Make Way for Ducklings, Possibly

Mallards, as we all know, are pretty common birds, found throughout the Northern Hemisphere, they are the duck that springs to mind when most people think of a duck. Yet it was an uncommon sight that greeted me the other day when I crested the hill behind my house heading for the bog. There was my dog, running full tilt up the trail with a female mallard flying low and just inches in front of him. Hollering for him to stop didn’t do any good, and I kept just willing her to gain altitude when it dawned on me, she is doing this on purpose. Leading him on a merry chase far from, goodness, what must be her nest nearby. Now the surprise in this is that it must be at least a quarter mile to the water, maybe more and in my mind it seemed odd she should choose to nest this far in the woods. But perhaps that is not so surprising, at least not out of the question.

Thankfully the dog came back empty handed, and I saw her circle us from above. Now, to look for the nest.
And there it was, no more than 5 feet off the main trail, behind a pitch pine, and thankfully somewhat guarded by Catbriar, but still, too close to this oft used trail for comfort. I would question the advice she got from her realtor on this issue, “seldom used country lane” perhaps she was told. But used enough, and by dogs. Of course I jest, the female and the male scout the nearby territory to find something suitable, and it is all on her shoulders to choose. Perhaps at the right time of day this seemed a lovely spot. Well, the next morning when I walked by, the eggs were gone. And I thought whoa, preyed upon already? But there were no broken shells, no sign of disturbance. Hmm, had she moved them, I think I have heard they can do this, but how I don’t know, rolling them along? Carrying them in their beak? I don’t know. Then to keep this mystery going, today, they were back! No action-cam set up to catch this. Were they new eggs, or did she move them back? I really can’t say with any certainty, just that this will be fascinating to watch.

Mallards do take a few days to lay their clutch then the female would begin incubating them for much of the day. The pond that I saw them sporting about on is, as I said, probably a quarter mile or so from here, and when you see a pair on a spot for a few weeks and defending it, you assume that is their territory and that the nest must be nearby. But although it is their territory, it is not where the nest will be. And for this season, she just has strayed perhaps a little further than usual. This morning I saw her circling nearby, but being chased by a crow. Who also is defending the right to keep his family’s nest a secret. The woods are full of such intrigue at this time of year. So, as I said, we will see if this is a nest that in the end works for her, or if she will have to start again in spot less traversed by one and all.

The nest is beautiful, a good foot across and rimmed with her plucked downy feathers. When she leaves the nest she will cover the eggs with the down to keep them warm, which wasn’t what happened the other day, they weren’t just covered, they simply weren’t there. It would be something if she made it all the way to ducklings at this spot. I saw a young coyote not terribly far from here the other day, so it would seem an easy place for predators to find too, but I wish her well.
And it will make that first morning walk full of intrigue for me, and also a call for a leash for my dog.

Just another side duck note, for the last 4 days or so I have seen a Blue Winged Teal pair hanging about on the slough and pond and would that not be lovely if they decided to nest here too.
Perhaps they are just passing through and enjoying finding things pretty much to themselves for the moment. Unlikely I would spot their nest for it is usually hidden at the waters edge, a hollow lined with down also, but if they continue to stick around one could hope. Far more rare than our Mallard, at least in my area but able to find happiness in the smallest of water areas. They don’t dive under for food but just skim off the top and they don’t need a huge space to get running along the water to gain altitude but lift up almost immediately. So again, we shall see. Its why walking the same area each day has its own intrigue, its own plot line to follow. I will keep you posted.

Although let me say here, with my return home from TN and a return to a busier time at work, and a move that hovers overhead like a gray cloud, I have not found as much time for to write this as I would like. Spring Azures are out
and I didn’t mention them, and the Queen Bumblebees are flying low over the leaves looking for a suitable nest sight to start their broods. Life is finally waking up here in the Northeast and it would be nice to have time to talk about it. But we shall do what we can, when we can. For anyone south of this latitude, you are well ahead of us anyway and this is all old news! May you be enjoying whatever mysteries present themselves at your door as I shall enjoy mine.

Rewinding Spring

I am back from Tennessee, one cute little grandson added to the family tree, and just like last year, it comes as a bit of a shock to go from the full tilt spring into summer that one finds in TN in April to the, “I am possibly thinking of budding” spring you find on Cape Cod in April.

In TN everything was in bloom, the dogwoods which are everywhere there, went from bare branches to flowers,
the maples shot out helicopter seeds to cover the back yard and unfurled their leaves over the three weeks. Bird song reached near deafening proportions. There must be at least 4 or 5 pairs of cardinals trying to out sing each other in my daughter’s yard and they got at it as early as dawn would allow and never let up all day.
I hit a spate of insomnia and found the bird song continues through the night with mockingbirds taking up where the cardinals left off.

Last year I wrote about the hundreds of grackles and starlings and cowbirds that have made a patch of bamboo in their neighbors yard their roosting place. It was just as fascinating this time watching them gather in large numbers in nearby tree tops and then plummet down into the bamboo to claim their spot for the night. Making a racket the whole time. And the process was reversed in the morning. Dawns early light, more racket, everyone getting their marching orders for where they were flying off to that day and off they would go.

Back home, just as after Australia it seemed the dozen or so birds at the birdfeeder at any time paled next to the 1,000’s of parrots that congregated there, now my singing cardinals seem quiet by comparison. Sweet to watch the male feeding the female, so while in TN nests were well under way, here we are perhaps still in the courting phase.
The dawn chorus is growing though, my wrens and song sparrows join in, and the “peter peter” of titmice gets ever increasing but still, nothing to rattle you out of bed as those TN tunesters were doing.

I hear osprey are back on the bogs,
though I have yet to see them, the mute swan I drive by is on her nest and crows have been flying by with sticks in their mouths since I left in late March. The temps which in TN were often in the 80’s are back in the 50’s here so once again one adjusts to the ricochet of climate. And I hear, when the temperature of the water in the Bay equals the temperature of water in the streams nearby, the herring and alewives will be on their way. Spring will be playing it forward here on the Cape.

Wherever you are, I hope there is some sense of newness in the air, bright colors of spring, songs of the birds and an Easter that frames it all with new life. May we all find some reason to rejoice!

A Long Hiatus

It’s been some time since a blog inclination has crossed my mind. I left for TN about 10 days ago and found that my daughter could give birth to a grandson faster than I could drive from Baltimore to TN. He timed his arrival on the one day when they would have to rely on friends rather than Nona to watch Elena and so they did.

Now ten days later, I am trying to remember what it is I said that I would write about when next I got a moment. I vaguely remember wanting to tell you one more thing about Australia; the way so many animals of one kind or another presented themselves, not with one here or there, but with hundreds and more. Parrots and bats in the Cairns and Sydney area but in the south, profusion showed up in insect form. Along the Great Ocean Road of Victoria where the main event is the sweeping ocean views,
the wild surf, and the towering cliffs eroded away from land, the famous 12 Apostles, I was stunned to find that almost anywhere we stopped the air was filled with dragonflies and butterflies. It was arresting. Not just a few, but literally thousands of each, flying against the ocean wind, hovering over the cliffs. Was this a usual phenomena or was it brought on by all the rain?

The butterflies were mostly cabbage white butterflies, which has to make you wonder, where were the cabbage and cauliflower plants growing in such profusion to feed the larvae to pupate into these hundreds and hundreds of butterflies?

Admittedly, I am no entomologist, and even Google isn’t helping much here. It does say the cabbage white was introduced from Europe to Melbourne in 1929 and has since become a pest. A lovely flit all about you pest, but if I were a gardener I suppose I would be shuddering rather than marveling. Surely, they must feed on something else that grows wild. Two wasp species have been introduced and are said to be controlling their numbers, but if this is what a controlled population looks like I can’t imagine when they were full blown!

The dragonflies, which again, without an insect guide handy when I had one literally in my hand, shall go unnamed. Mostly a dull brown, but they may have been the bonus of all that rain that flooded through Victoria, fresh water marshes springing up everywhere perhaps. They I believe are a welcome sight for they feed on the locust larvae so, for this, gardeners may be happy.

Well, some blog eh? One in which I have to admit to little knowledge, but just to share that the effect was memorable. An already breathtaking scene, than overlaid with flitting insects all around. Again spoiling me for seeing, as I have here in TN a cabbage white here or there. Perhaps I should get into the mindset of a cabbage farmer and be thankful they aren’t filling the air.

Meanwhile Back in the Northern Hemisphere

I find one disconcerting thing about travel is the way it yanks you in and out of seasons. In Australia it was a steamy hot jungle in the north, then a perfectly 70 degree wonder in the south and now back at home with one day on the calendar into spring, it is snowing. Or was snowing. And may snow again.

Snow aside, spring is here in the extremely modest way it begins on the Cape. Somewhere skunk cabbage is blooming
and last week, I heard the wood frogs croaking away in the chilly waters around the bog. Peepers are reported to be peeping and my Phoebe is back flicking its tail and looking ready to get on with the business of nest building.,
A crow flew overhead with a stick in its beak, and although it seems early, when I check Stokes guide on Bird Behavior it seems they are right on cue. The last week of March through May nests will be made, some that may only be decoys and one in the most sequestered of locations for the real thing.

We had some sunny days last week when I first returned and both in the woods and across my porch skittered the first chipmunks of the season.
I always tend to think these are males, first out and looking for action. I won’t see chipmunks on a regular basis for at least another month. The females give birth in their underground tunnels and are tucked away busy with childcare for some time, so again, regular hourly raids on the sunflower seeds are still a ways off.

My little seasonal barometer is in for another ricochet experience for as of this weekend I shall be heading down to TN where spring is in full swing and my daughter is about to have our first grandson! If once again there is a pause in the blogs know that I am fully occupied with our own nestling of a sort. Time again for my granddaughter and I to lay out yarn all over the bushes and see who takes us up on our free building materials. Last year it was amazing how quickly it was snatched up. The blackbirds that roost in the neighbor’s bamboo are back, so nature reporting from down South may continue.

There were still a lot of unresolved Australian topics to cover. Having the incredible fortune to see a Cassowary in the rain forest,
being on hand to watch “mutton birds” (Shearwaters) return to their nests at dusk, and finding Koalas right where they were supposed to be, and occasionally doing something other than sleeping, are all future topics, if time permits.

Meanwhile, Spring is officially here throughout our hemisphere, but perhaps showing itself in many different ways depending on the latitude you find yourself in. Woodcocks will be doing their dance in my absence this year, but anyone who is curious to read more about them would simply need to look at the blogs written a year ago if you wanted an refresher on Woodcock dancing.
Not that I imagine that is on the top of your “to do” list, but if it is, you should find them easily enough. Now, back to cooking and laying up enough meals to keep a husband alive for three weeks. Till free time comes my way again. Happy Spring!

Parrots Above and Parrots Below

Under the category of things that took me by surprise in Australia, you can add the plethora of Parrots! I knew there would be all manner of Parrot fish out on the Reef, and so there were, in more color combinations than I could keep track of.

I also knew there were parrots in Australia. The Field Guide to the Birds has 6 pages of parrots, 2 of Lorikeets (a smaller member of the parrot family) and 2 more of cockatoos so that should have been a clue that parrots weren’t a rarity. I just never expected to see them by the 1,000’s and smack dab in the middle of the town.

As it would turn out, every major city we visited had parrots as thick as thieves. Again, on the very first night in Cairns, along with the bats that were winging their way to the town at sunset, flocks and flocks of parrots came squawking and wheeling their way into the trees that lined the main street.
That I wasn’t run over, as I stood transfixed under the trees straining to see which ones had red cheeks, which ones had blue tails, etc., was a minor miracle. Just like the bats, the stunning thing was the immense number of them. By nightfall, the trees that line the main area of downtown Cairns were completely covered with what I think were Little Lorikeets and Crimson Rosellas.



Remember that I was with my daughters here, and to go to town to have dinner each night with a pair of binoculars around my neck was considered unacceptable. So strained looks behind thick vegetation made correct identification a little tricky. But, no worries, it was spectacular no matter what exact kind they were. And the noise! Deafening. So much screeching and chasing of one another with flocks alighting on branches claimed by others only to be chased away and resettle somewhere else. The cacophony in the trees was echoed by the cacophony on the street with music flowing out of the bars. I just kept thinking, if you can fly, and have the rainforest right outside the city limits, why would you choose the heart of downtown to spend your evenings? Perhaps a city lined with fig and all manner of blossoming trees is the answer. Plus they squawked half the night themselves, so maybe peace and quiet isn’t what they were after. Either way, chock it up to another “WOW me” experience in Australia.

And it wasn’t only in Cairns, which is near the rainforest, but in Sydney, same thing, parrots squawking outside our less-than-classy hostel in a less-than-classy part of town. Also along the Coast road in Victoria at a hostel in Lorne, and later in a trailer park further along the coast, we had trees festooned with Sulfur Crested Cockatoos.
It was really so remarkable. I suppose it just goes to show how little I really researched about the birds before we went. Totally commonplace to those in the know, but, as for moi, I kept an expression of, as an Aussie would say, “a stunned mullet” for most of my trip! A happily stunned mullet! But you gentle reader have been forewarned. Should you go, expect parrots, by the bazillions!

Back Up from "Down Under"

Well, I DID NOT getting eaten by a crocodile, or a shark, or bit by any venomous snakes or stung by killer jellyfish! How silly of me to have ever worried about that, but oh, it was FABULOUS! Now there are so many tales to tell from there, but keeping in mind you all have lives to lead, I shall keep this to one tale at a time. Let’s start with bats.

Who knew, surely I didn’t, that places like Cairns, noted as the jumping off spot for the Great Barrier Reef and Sydney, famous for its Opera House, were also home to thousand and thousands of fruit bats! Driving from the airport to our hostel in Cairns the first thing I spotted, well to be truthful the very first thing I spotted was, yeah, a Willy Wagtail, but right after that, a huge bat went winging overhead.
A three-foot across, mega bat, a Spectacled Flying Fox, one of thousands that roost in the rainforest but disperse at dusk to the many fruit trees in Cairns.
It was just wild, to have them flump, flump, flump right into a tree over our head, hang upside down and start eating the nectar from huge blossoms. I loved it! They are important pollinators of the rainforest trees and great dispersers of seeds, for they can easily travel 60 miles a day. That’s far more than the flitting of a butterfly or beeline of a bee so they are invaluable in pollinating trees that are separated by distance.

Check out this picture and see what great faces they have. The name Spectacled comes from the fact that the light fur around their eyes looks like glasses. And they look right at you.
As fruit bats they have excellent eyes, no need to use sonar to find a mango after all, so they don’t have the small eyes and oversized ears of the insect eating bats that use echolocation. And the way they move through the trees using the claw on their wing like a hand makes them seem more like monkeys than bats.

In Sydney we toured the Botanical Gardens, and hanging in the trees by the hundreds were Gray Headed Flying Fox bats, another fruit eater with a wingspan approaching three feet.
Amazing! Each tree had hundreds, for what they say is a total of 22,000 in the park! And their numbers are down by 30% over the last 10 years, can you imagine when they were at full strength what this would have looked like! We saw them by day, then at sunset they unfurl, and head out over the city in a huge stream of bats that looks like a scene out of the Wizard of Oz.
They were streaming their way to Centennial Park where they will dine on Eucalypts and Banksia trees through the night.
Again, no one had prepared me for this and it was such an amazing sight. In a city no less.


Now, the Botanical Gardens are none to happy about them choosing their sight, for the trees take a bit of a beating, and there are plans underway to start playing jack hammer sounds through the night to discourage them from camping there. It worked in Melbourne but bats have been calling this place home since the late 1800’s so they may be harder to talk into a new neighborhood. Habitat destruction in other areas it what leads them to this one steady source of trees. Again, their contribution as pollinators is one not to be eliminated, so hopefully they will find a place to relocate and not have their numbers further reduced. They say they can pass some 60,000 seeds through their system in one night and I would believe that, standing under trees where the ground was completely covered with tightly packed seeds from their dining. Wow, and I thought our roosts of winter robins were something to get excited about! So, what a bonus.

I expected fabulous reef fish in Cairns and found them, and the Opera House in Sydney was the imposing icon I thought it would be, but cities that rivaled Gotham in their night bat flights was completely unexpected and delightful. Indeed the whole trip was a naturalists dream, but, as I promised, one topic at a time. Parrots, by the thousands, in the trees and in the water will wait for another day.

T-3 and counting

By all rights I shouldn't be blogging. We leave in days, and surely there are things I should be doing. But just to share the latest blips along the way. I have been warning the whole family to be oh so careful, "Don't injure anything at this stage of the game, we all need to be ambulatory for this!" Of course then, who should take a cartoon-like fall on the ice but moi.

Remember those "signs of spring" we were so joyfully writing about the other day? The bog had been spread with sand, and no more than two days later there came a wonderful southern breeze, a thaw, the sand filtered down onto the bog as planned and spring seemed a possibility. The glacial rivers that the trails have been of late began to melt and give way. Then, as quickly as it had melted, it refroze for the winds shifted back from the north and west. And, that snowstorm that pummeled the Midwest again, just sent us a lovely, "Ivory-Snow" flake inch or two. All the better to see tracks in right? And No Worries, for under the snow was sand. Or that was what I thought. Wrong, and nothing is slipperier than "Ivory Snow" snow on ice.


I remember thinking what an entertaining track I left. Confident striding footprints, then a clear outline of my not so graceful landing, followed by some staggering tracks which then headed off the trail and into the side brush lest I fall again. So, now a day of icing, and a wrapped bandage will hopefully be good enough. I will be the one-armed-wonder-sculler when snorkelling, hopefully not seen as a weakened species ripe for the picking by some nearby predator!

Not my luckiest day yesterday, for the computer monitor also decided its time had come. I must have worn it out reading all those reviews of hostels in Sydney, trying to chose from whether we would want one that promised broken showers and a smell that shall not be mentioned here, or one peopled primarily by avid drinkers and the aftermath that follows said drinkers. How to choose? Well, without a computer it will be up to my husband to do this at work, and thrift will win the day. Even for the delights of sharing a room with sick and boisterous people, one pays a high price in Sydney, so I can't even imagine how low he will go. Best not to think about it.

Think of Fairy penguins, think of the riotous names these Australian animals posses and the bragging rights if I were to see, say a Willy Wagtail,
or a Yellow Wattlebird,
who I hear sounds a lot like a vomiting Frat boy. Bandicoots, and Mulgara's,

if I see them, you shall hear about it. Not exactly household names these animals. At least not for we on the other side of the world. So, once again, may we come back able to tell our tales.

Till then, may the March of spring reach your door!