FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY

Every year at about this time, the Atlantic Eiders show up with their chicks. It seems to happen suddenly, though that’s not the case. For at least a month, the drakes chase the hens in relentless pursuit. I’ve posted photographs of them engaged in mating displays, stretching their necks while calling a low ah-hoo! Then things calm down. Hundreds of them float in the cove fishing and sleeping and apparently pretty bored with each other. Then one day, at the very end of May, they appear with chicks in tow. The family groups of hens and a couple of drakes escort a crowd of a hundred or more chicks long the rocky shore line to feed. Because they are so vulnerable to predators while on land, the chicks take to the water very quickly. They are balls of down no bigger than the palm of your hand. Once they are in the water, they dive under when predatory birds try to catch them. Sea gulls and Bald eagles like a snack of Eider chick whenever they can get one. It’s a depressing spring event to witness. The numbers of little puff balls quickly dwindles. Like stealth bombers, the eagles cruise across the surface scalping the chicks off the water. With each pass, the mothers frantically huddle the chicks into a circle. Stretching their necks upward and flapping their wings, they squawk miserably. I can always tell when there is a hunting eagle on the water from wherever I am in the yard because of the distress calls of the hens. Gruesome as this is, I have to remind myself that everybody has to eat. An eagle is just being an eagle; it’s not cruel or vicious. May is just a rough month.

May is also the month when there are nine birthdays among my family and friends. This year, I did not recognize any of them. It’s not that I forgot them, either. I remembered some of them, though not on time. I just didn’t think it was that important. Boy, was I wrong. As it turns out, several of my friends were hurt. One of them may not forgive me for it, which would be a shame. We’ve been friends for almost thirty years, but it looks like this may be the end of it. I do feel like a first class jerk for hurting anybody’s feelings. There wasn’t any malice in it; I was just a slob. I have no excuses. I guess accepting this about me is what it takes to be my friend. It’s not something I’m proud of, but that’s the fact of it. Like an eagle, I’ve got my great qualities, but some of me can be pretty hard to take. To expect me to be a different person is probably like expecting an eagle to hunt for a corndog. I guess if the people I love won’t forgive me, then May will have been the roughest month of all.

Maine, the way life should be

This is a male Rose Breasted Grosbeak. I took these shots from my car while traveling through Windsor, Maine. I was right near Hussey's General Store. They claim to be the largest general store in the country. Hussey's is famous for being a hardware store where you can buy a wedding dress and a shot gun on the same day, in addition to bait, butts and beer for the party. A guy would need the bait because after he'd landed the big one, then he might want to go fishin'.

This Could Be Me

So far, I've managed to keep myself out of my own blog, at least, visually. While crawling around on the web looking for information about To Kill A Mockingbird, I found this trailer from 1962. The last scene (minute 1:40) could very well BE me. I think it's my very favorite scene of the whole movie.

MOCKING BIRD

 A Mockingbird landed on my deck yesterday. Then it flew to the top of a tree. I saw it return five times over the course of the day. Each time it threw its head in the air and sang and sang. I wished I had a recorder because it was fantastic vocalization. It sounded like a Chickadee, a Catbird, an Oriole a Cardinal and a Robin all rolled in to one. Once, I saw a male Northern Cardinal land on the same tree and they got a little snippy with each other over this high perch. The Mockingbird won. I used to see Mockingbirds every summer when I lived in North Bath. They frequented an apartment complex that sat in a wide open field. That's the kind of habitat they prefer, semi urban open areas. But, I had never seen one here in Phippsburg. I had missed them. My heart had always skipped a beat when I had seen them. It's not that they are overly attractive birds. There are many birds here that are much more elegant and classically pretty. But, when I was a kid I had a deep crush on Gregory Peck. I can still hear his voice as Atticus Finch in To Kill A Mockingbird. When the Mockingbird opens its bill to speak, I hear Gregory Peck. Once you've heard a Mockingbird sing, you'll never forget its voice. I'll never forget Gregory Peck, either.

Bird On A Wire

I am convinced that this is the same Sharp Shinned hawk that I posted a couple of days ago. It was in almost the same place on Rt 209, but on the opposite side of the road. The road runs along the edge of Center Pond and the utility lines travel part of the way then cross the road. The hawk likes to hang out on the wires, hunting. There are lots of small birds, snakes and rodents. The wires make a perfect place to sit and wait. I look for the bird every time I drive by there and most often am rewarded. Sometimes, it sits high in the oak trees that line the ledge above the road, but seems to prefer the wires once the trees leaf out. As long as I stay in my car, it knows I'm there watching, but doesn't seem too bothered by me. That's right: I didn't even get out of my car for these shots. And, only the hawk, God and I will ever know if I was in my bathrobe or not.

Tree Swallow

I love Tree Swallows. They are so social and chatty. These are nesting in a box on Haskell Point in Phippsburg on Rt 209. They are notorious for nesting in Blue Bird houses. In this part of the world, there are far more Tree Swallows in Blue Bird houses than Blue Birds. I did see an Eastern Blue Bird on the Heron Cove Road last Friday, though. It was thrilling!














































This is a Sharp Shinned hawk. It was sitting on a utility wire not too far from the Tree Swallows. 'Sharpies' are notorious for picking off small birds in mid air. They are swift, deadly fliers and zoom like fighter jets after prey birds. Sharpies are easily confused with Cooper's hawks, but I'm pretty sure this is a Sharpie.

Enough with the birds!

The Osprey are fishing here in Totman Cove. I've seen as many as 10 at once so far this year. When the tide is low they are really busy. They are catching almost exclusively these sand dabs or baby flounder. They look like pink pancakes. Again, all of these shots I took in my bathrobe. If you see anything out there that you think I should photograph, call me and I'll come with my camera wearing my bathrobe. Promise.
























This is a Song Sparrow. They can really belt out a tune sitting high atop a tree. They are one of the very first 'song' birds to come back in the spring.