Vol. 4, no. 44, Tuesday, November 2, 1999
Quick jumps: | This week's reports | Prior weekly Nature reports | Prior black fly reports | Home page |
You are invited to report on any aspect of Nature in Maine
Please e-mail Frank
Wihbey, Editor: menature@maine.maine.edu
Report format = Day, date, [time]. Location (Maine Atlas Map number) Report text. Initials of correspondent.
Tuesday, October 22. Macwahoc (Map 44) Walking through a wooded area, observed a large hare who merely lumbered off when I stopped to get a better look. Soon after, I flushed a ruffed grouse and then a woodcock, the woodcock being the first I have seen in a long while. As I came out of the wood line into the field, I noticed a bald eagle perched high in a tree top. After several minutes, he left his perch to circle the entire 40 acre field on, what I assume, was a hunting expedition. He did not seem to mind my presence. I watched him for at least 20 minutes. I gave up first and left. Also, fresh bear scat was observed just inside the tree line. S.M.C.
Saturday, October 30. Phippsburg (Map 6) Small Point. Here
are a few tidbits from wanderings along the shoreline on recent days :
A killing frost descended on the Small Point/West Point shores at the early hours of Oct.
28th. A morning low tide lured me to the chilly, abandoned beaches. Enroute, I
passed the exposed mudflats where two clammers were already at work, despite the cold.
(The tide dictates their work hours). I learned later how tough work that
must be with the added burden of cold weather factored in. On the beach, I watched the
gulls seeking breakfast as the sun rose. One had found a Surf Clam and managed to break
its hard shell for a tasty treat. Crab parts were strewn elsewhere, a more common feeding
pattern. An Urchin was cracked open and emptied of its modest contents, mostly
gonads.
A stranded Starfish was avoided on this morning, but left swirli
ng patterns in its struggle to travel on hundreds of tube feet, more suited for clinging
to rocks. Sanddollars were also left to their resources und er disks of sand that belied
their presence. The latter echinoderms occasionally showed signs of movement on their
short spines. The gulls paid no attention to their limited gastronomic resources. Not to
be outdone by the gulls, I spied squirt marks and a give-away clam hole. I took off my
Thinsulate gloves and began to dig.. In short order, I found several massive bivalves, but
my hands were numbed by the cold. I washed the sand from my hands in equally chilling
water.
Beach hunts at this time of the year create special challenges. Even
the slanting sunlight and numbing waters of tidepools make rocky forays more hazardous.
But the jellylike Anemones and colorful Sea Stars were there to find even at this season,
if you dare to venture on the slippery shores. I left the beaches and once more passed the
mudflats noticing that the clammers were still at work. After three hours, the tide was
closing in but they were still bent over their rakes. How numb were their fingers? How
aching were their backs? I looked to see the gulls that accompanied their activity
probing with beaks, scavenging the culls, and walking on pink, webbed toes, seemingly
unbothered by the cold. Side by side, they plied their respective trades. R.K.
Saturday, October 30. Caratunk (Map 30) It snowed here last Sunday night and left the ground white. It's gone now! B.Y.
Saturday, October 30. Grindstone Township (Map 43) While
crossing a clear cut, trying to follow the course of an old trail that had been
obliterated by skidders, I was again reminded how irresponsible forest practices can
render once-familiar landscapes unrecognizable. It's old-school "harvesting"
techniques as these that give responsible working foresters an undeserved bad
reputation. I know the area well. I guessed that for every tree hauled away there
must have been at least ten destroyed needlessly with root systems in the air, naked earth
exposed underneath. A beautiful cedar swamp I used to enjoy walking through, that was so
dense that little sunlight ever fell on its moss covered roots and stones, lay exposed to
full sunlight, paling in its dehydration.
About halfway across the cut I heard a bird call that I'd heard before
but not so often it was instantly recognizable. I was surprised to see two Gray Jays fly
hesitantly by me and each land in separate snags not far apart. The same one called again
several times before they both took flight again and disappeared into the standing forest.
I do not often see Gray Jays in this immediate area. Maybe once a year, if I'm
lucky. I do see them a little more often in nearby Baxter State Park, usually in
Russell Pond or on exposed ledges on some of the mountain trails. D.W.
Sunday, October 31. Orono (Map 23) On this unseasonably warm 64-degree day, 3 Leopard Frogs and a newt were in a small, slow-flowing stream. J.K.M.