Winter Birding

My friend Karin and I bundled against the cold January temperature to bird along Marginal Way in York, Maine, a popular birding area and guaranteed spot to see Harlequin ducks and other wintering birds. Marginal Way is a public, one-mile paved narrow path that hugs the rocky shoreline. On the landward side the trail is lined with fruit-bearing shrubs, some non-native, but all provide barrier to the high-end summer homes that over look the trail and the vast ocean beyond.
In winter, harlequin ducks feed among the crashing waves, as do rafts of common eiders and other sea ducks. The harlequin is a small sea duck that winters on the coast of Maine and breeds in fast flowing mountain streams in Newfoundland and New Brunswick. Its plumage is exquisite -- white patches and bands contrast with a blue gray body and chestnut sides. Click here to see a photo.

In contrast, the common eider is a big, bulky sea duck. The male eider stands out in the crowd of eiders with its black and white body, green nape (neck), and sloping head with a pale green bill. The females are reddish brown with black barring. Click here for a photo of an eider pair from Massachusetts Audubon.

As the incoming tide covered beaches and sand bars, a flock of 25 purple sandpipers landed on the rocks at the edge of the surf. They hopped up to the top of the rock and rested in the sun, as waves crashed below their perch. The purple sandpiper is a plump, more slate-gray than purple, shorebird with a slightly curving bill and yellow legs and feet (click here for photo). They breed in the arctic and are one of the few sandpipers that winters this far north.

Black scoters, with jet-black plumage and bright orange knob on the bill, swam among the eiders and harlequins. A pair of red-breasted mergansers floated by, their bills tucked into their backs. Four beautiful long-tailed ducks, in their winter whites, swam farther off-shore. White-winged and surf scoters remained even farther off-shore, visible only with a spotting scope. All the sea ducks were in their breeding plumage, already pairing up and chasing away unwanted male competition. We saw a lone common loon, still in its rather dull winter plumage.

As we drove south along the shore, we watched a small flock of buffleheads play in the water. Males chasing females, all diving and splashing. Not far away two male and one female common goldeneye were calmly swimming and diving. We ended our birding at the Nubble Lighthouse at Cape Neddick. Great cormorants roost off the north end of the island. Fewer people visit in winter, but in summer this place is bustling with tourists.


We scanned the water at Nubble Light, taking in the last views of wintering sea ducks under a clear winter's day. I continue my tradition of visiting the coast in winter and avoiding it in summer. The reverse of most people, and that is the idea.

Winter Winds

It is hard to convey in a still photo the movement, sound, and feel of a bracing winter wind. A northwest wind has blown all day. As the large, orange full moon set this morning just after 6:00 am, the wind was already whipped into a frenzy.

Heavy rain earlier this week, followed by cold temperatures, has frozen the snow; the wind swept away any remaining dusting. Wind gusts, 20 miles per hour or more, rush through the tall white pines with a roar. Skinny pole-sized red maples clang their tops together. Bird calls are carried swiftly away. Twice today the mixed flock of birds at the feeders flushed in unison, perhaps by a gust of wind. Later a Cooper's hawk caused another quick departure; it missed catching a bird as it flew or was blown too quickly past the harried songbirds.

Tonight we are heading toward the zero degree Fahrenheit range with bitter (not bracing!) wind chills, similar to two weeks ago as chronicled here. Atop Mt. Washington at the moment it is - 21 F and 60 mph winds (-64 F with wind chill), where they proudly proclaim the spot as "home to the world's worst weather." In 1934, the fastest wind ever recorded on Earth was reported from there -- a gust of 231 mph. But wait, a new report has reportedly toppled that record. This may be as traumatic as the Old Man of the Mountain falling off the mountain. Apparently a new record wind gust was recorded in 1996 on Barrow Island, Alaska during Typhoon Olivia. The new record is 253 mph. Of course a careful review of the instruments used and their calibrations is underway!

Well, now the winds swirling around outside my window seem more like a gentle, warm breeze. Still, I think I'll stay inside where it is calm.

Fading Cabbages

Rotting cabbage is not a pleasant smell. Actually it stinks, especially a field full of them during a January thaw. Even the deer and the crows avoid the decaying crop.

One of several setbacks of the 2009 farm season was the loss of the fall cabbage crop at Brookfield Farm, the CSA that leases some of our land at Winterberry Farm. The crop went in about on time, but growing conditions never encouraged the cabbage heads to enlarge and firm up. A soft, small cabbage head in November is not worthy of harvest.



Fall cabbages are normally hardy and good for winter storage. But once they lose their luster, the isothiocynates emerge and break down into smelly sulfur compounds. This also occurs if you overcook cabbage. This goes for all the members of the cruciferous family (or if you prefer the brassicas) -- such as broccoli, brussels sprouts, cauliflower, kale.

Often the foods that have a bit of smell, are often the ones that are best for you. Apparently these isothiocynates are good for us, helping ward off various forms of cancer and cleansing toxins from the body. The key to enjoying the brassicas is to eat them raw or cooked for a short time. I like some sliced raw red cabbage in a green salad. Green and red cabbage sauteed briefly with some salt and pepper and a fresh green chili with a squirt of lemon juice is nice. My mom made us some green cabbage cole slaw this week. She grated half a cabbage, added a smidgen of grated onion, and enough mayonnaise for flavor and some cream to spruce it up. Her cabbage was from the store!

Just so I don't leave you with the thought of rotting cabbages, here is a more pleasant image. After several days of warm weather and rain the ground is bare but frozen here in western Massachusetts. As I skipped quickly past the cabbage field I caught sight of many birds feeding on seeds, fruits, and insects -- dozens of juncos, a handful of white-throated sparrows, eight cedar waxwings, a few robins, and one lone golden-crowned kinglet. A prettier bird you will not see in the middle of winter than a little kinglet.

A Century of Changes

I am visiting my parents for a few days at Winterberry Farm, their home of 53 years and the place where I grew up. I have written about it often during the past year, including here, here, and here, and many times in between. The saltbox was built circa 1764, going on 245 years old. The last half century has likely been the greatest period of change for the house and associated outbuildings. My parents kept many of the historic features, but by sweat and tears they continue to restore, enhance, and improve their home.

The earliest photo that we have of the house is circa 1900. The Jewetts lived here then.

Notice the wood shingles on the roof, the two chimneys, the catalpa sapling in the center, and what we think is a chestnut tree behind the shed.

Here is the house in October 1957, the year my parents bought the place. My older brother and sister are checking out the yard. My other brother and I were not yet on the scene! Note the size of the catalpa - my how it grew in 50+ years. The roofs are now metal, the wood shingles are gone. The two chimneys remain. My father says that the chestnut tree was now just a fallen log and stump, likely it had succumbed to chestnut blight.

In 1969, we raised the house to pour a full basement. Once the house was lowered again, we started restoring the central chimney and four fireplaces. I remember scraping salvaged bricks after school. The photo above shows the house in 1978, after all these changes.

In the 1990s and into the 2000s Dad continued to work on the house, replacing the siding and windows on most of the house.

Then in 2002 it was on to the barn and the sheds.....continuing up to the present. It is looking lovely. The inside work continues as well, really never ending in an old house. But this house will stand another 245 years or more. I think the Jewetts would be impressed.

A Face for the Day

With the political establishment in disarray and world affairs muddling on, here is a face to brighten any mood.


This is Angel, our friend Beth's new 8-week old Rottweiler puppy. She arrived weighing 10 pounds. Congratulations Beth!

Snow Day II

More snow today -- another four inches.
The woods and wetland behind our house are very snowy.
Superb for snowshoeing.

Snowing

Our view this morning,

after eight inches of fresh snow and counting

Goldfinches mob the Nyjer seed feeder, chickadees and titmice dart in and out to snatch black oil sunflower seeds, and a tree sparrow (the first of the season) set up camp on the lower rung of the sunflower seed tube feeder. Juncos help themselves to sunflower seeds tossed to the ground by other birds, sharing the space with three mourning doves.

The tree sparrow is distinctive with its rufous crown and eye-line and small dark spot on its breast. For every seed that the sparrow cracks and eats, it spills another ten on the ground. It is either a slob or quite picky about which seeds are good to eat. Meanwhile, the goldfinches are eating machines, efficiently consuming every nyjer seed.

The fresh snow will provide great animal tracking. We will be out tomorrow at first light to see who wandered through our yard in the night.