Bald Eagle In A Desert Of Ice

Last night, the temperature outside dropped to zero with a brisk little breeze clipping around. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the stars twinkled. As much as I get worn down by days of clouds and gray skies, at least, when there are clouds, it's not so cold. Without clouds, we suffer from radiative cooling. You might think that this is because the clouds hold the heat of the earth in like a jacket, but that's not true. It feels warmer when there is cloud cover, because the clouds themselves give off heat, which 'radiates' back to the earth. We do feel their warmth, just like the heat given off from a wood stove warms us. Deep space gives off heat, too, but much less than the earth. We are a pretty cozy little planet, in spite of what it seems like in the dead of winter. On a cloudless night, if you look up into space, you can feel the heat leaving your face. If you hold a piece of paper between your face and the sky, you can feel the heat from the paper radiating back to you. The flimsy paper radiates more heat than the deep, dark cosmos.  I went driving around looking for birds and beasts to photograph yesterday, but everybody seemed to be in hiding. I could imagine them all tucked away into burrows and snug places, shoulders hunched to the cold. Perhaps they have little sleeping bags or at least blankets pulled tightly around them. To not see nary a bird nor beast on a whole afternoon's outing was quite discouraging and left me feeling even colder. I drove through the grounds of the local summer resort. Sebasco Harbor Resort boasts a golf course, spa, pleasure boat moorings and a swimming pool. The place is closed. All that remains is a desert of ice. The pipes have all been drained of water, heat off, pool empty. There's nothing more discouraging than an empty swimming pool. An empty pool always looks like defeat. But, overseeing all of the frozen assets was this gorgeous Bald eagle. Though it didn't look warm and fuzzy, it did give me a bit of feathered comfort.

Popham beach, Pond Island Lighthouse

Golden-eyes, "I've Got Eyes For You, Babe!"

 Sometimes, the names of birds baffle me; the name may have no relationship to what I see about the bird. Sometimes this is because, as in the case of the Red-throated loons I've posted about in the past or the Red-shouldered hawk, it's because the bird isn't displayed in breeding plumage or it's just too young to have developed it. Either way, that makes it often hard for me to remember what a bird is when I see it. I have to look them up more frequently than I would like. I have six field guides within reach at all times and I use several online sources. The guide I use the most often, my daily bible, is The Sibley Guide To The Birds, by David Allen Sibley. Even with all of that at hand, it's hard to tell some things apart. In the photo below of the merganser with the Golden-eye, I can tell that it's a Red-breasted Merganser, but I can't say for sure if it's a breeding female or a non-breeding male. I'm going with breeding female because of the time of year. Sometimes with birding, you just have to go with your gut and make a commitment. Even though it seems early for them to be frolicking around all lovey-dovey, they are. The male merganser in the bottom photo is stretching his wings and making himself look important to the chicks and to the other males. The Common Golden-eye males below are not giving that poor hen a moments peace and she is clearly outnumbered. They are so aggressive about hens that this one is even looking over this female merganser pretty seriously! I think it's obvious with the males and the females why they are called 'Golden-eyes.' I never have a problem remembering that. There are two kinds of Golden-eyes, Common and Barrows. The reference to 'Common' is another point that is confusing to me. Why common? There's often nothing common about birds named as common. The Common Merganser has an all white breast and is a flashy, showy bird. So why not call it 'White-breasted' instead of 'Common?' And Common Golden-eye? You have to really be bitten by the birding bug, which I have been, to make the distinctions between a Common and a Barrows. I won't bore you with those details until the day I photograph a Barrows. And then, look out! Golden-eyes of either persuasion are small, diving ducks. I don't see them in our cove very often in the summer, but there are lots of them in small groups like this during the winter. They are one of the last ducks to migrate south in the fall and will spend time in open water as far north as they can find it. This makes them birds that a real 'Main-ah' can appreciate. Another 'Main-ah' appreciation factor is that they eat mollusks and crustaceans while here for the winter (insects are preferred fare while breeding), as do the other diving ducks I've posted about. Unlike those birds, they nest in tree cavities, either where branches have broken off or where large woodpeckers have drilled holes. Other birds will lay eggs in with Golden-eye broods ("brood parasitism"). So, a hen may hatch Golden-eye chicks that are not her own. They have been known to hatch chicks of European Starlings and even Tree Swallows! If a Common Golden-eye and a Red-breasted merganser mated (they don't), and they raised a Tree Swallow, what would it be called? Perhaps an "Uncommon Red-eyed Mergswall?" Now, that  I could remember! Golden-eyes are heavily hunted and their breeding and wintering grounds are being degraded by development, but they are not endangered. 
 

White-winged Scoters, The Crab Wars

These are White-winged Scoters and an American Herring Gull eating crabs. There are three kinds of Scoter, Black, Surf and the ones shown here. All of them visit the Maine coast in the winter, but breed further inland. White-winged scoters are easy to pick out by the white comma on their eyes. I wonder how their spelling is. At about twenty-four inches long, White-winged scoters are the largest of the scoters which are all a type of diving duck. They dive to the bottom, propelled by their bright pink feet where they take mostly mollusks. As you can see, they like crabs too. They will also eat small fish, aquatic insects and some aquatic plants. Totman Cove, here in Phippsburg, is a feeding ground for lots of sea birds. The bottom is sand rather than mud, but the shore is all  rock with lots of seaweed. This provides two types of food. The White-winged scoters prefer sandy bottoms. I don't. I like to be able to rinse out my bathing suit if it fills with sand, but they like it. As my mother liked to say, "There's no accounting for taste." Lately, there has been lots of sea bird action here, so I have done some 'pier time.' That's when I actually get out of my bathrobe, put on a jacket and sit on the end of the 118 foot pier until my hands are too numb to press the shutter or my memory card is full. Sometimes my battery runs out which happens faster than usual because of the cold. Yesterday, it was all three plus it just got too dark. That's winter wildlife photography for you! In addition to the scoters, there were Atlantic Eiders, Red-breasted Mergansers, American Black Ducks, Common Loons and Common Golden-eyes. I have yet to see a Barrow's Golden-eye in here or a Pacific Loon, both of which would be real birding catches. I do watch for them every day, though. The Herring Gulls do not dive, but hang around the diving ducks to steal their catches. They rely on those guys to do the diving, then bomb them from above and steal their catch when they drop it. The crabs start to sink really fast so the gulls are equally fast at snagging them before they sink out of reach. Even though it's only January, there is courtship behavior happening between male and female birds. All this diving, fighting, splashing and stealing gets the attentions of the Bald eagles. Two of them appeared making it additionally difficult to photograph the birds. When the eagles show up, many of the birds take flight and the rest bunch together and move away from the shore line as fast as they can. Oh, the drama!

Birds In Winter

I took this photograph a few days ago, before it snowed. These bird photographs were all taken yesterday, in the blizzard. I made sure there was lots of bird food, nuts, suet and berries. I have a heated bird bath, too. Surprisingly, it uses very little electricity - about the equivalent of a four watt bulb. Birds struggle to get enough liquid water in the winter. I have seen birds eat snow when there wasn't water. When I see all the ice and snow, I wonder about the creatures that live out in it. I do what I can to help them. I had the luxury of taking these photographs from inside my house, secure in my bathrobe. It was the least I could do. No, really, I mean it. It was the very least.

                                American Goldfinches  in winter plumage, males                                                           

Male and Female Northern Cardinals

Blue Jay and Mourning Dove

American Tree Sparrow

Red-shouldered Hawk

"Red Rover, Red Rover,"
"Send Robin On Over!"

     I hated that game. Played on hot summer nights with neighborhood kids, I always felt like I was on the wrong side. Helpless, tossed, given up; I felt like a loser. I don't remember what the rules were, something about being called out of a group to physically break through a line of opposing kids. I distinctly recall the red-faced panicky feeling. I could never break through the line which was why I was always called. My head swam and my heart raced as I was flung from one side to the other, kids shouting, me nearly falling down when whipped across the line. I was not an athletic child. I was scrawny with tangled hair and huge, chipped beaverish front teeth. I didn't get breasts or my first period until I was  nearly forty. I was a geek before there were geeks!
     I liked science and could name the organisms floating in pond water under the microscope, a gift from my father. Knowing things was how I got a charge and often times, was how I was used by other kids. I was rarely invited to birthday parties or sleep overs but regularly asked to give the answers to tests or homework assignments. Knowing the answers to things was the one thing I could do that gave me an edge. But these days, when I see something like this hawk, I feel like a winner. Seeing it was exhilarating! I was driving home from the post office when out of the corner of my eye, I saw this beast on the utility line. I conducted a U turn on Route 209, camera on the passenger's seat, at the ready, and wound down the window. I knew right away that this was not a hawk I was familiar with.
    At first, when I looked at the photos, I couldn't believe that what it looked like could possibly be true. My palms started to sweat. I recognized right away what it was, but then did not trust my gut. I'm not the most experienced birder, plus I lack confidence in what I do know. I second guess myself. When it comes to hawks especially, I've fallen and I can't get up! In the world of birding it's important to pay attention to details and not jump the gun on identification; credibility is at stake. After all, when making bird identifications there's rarely DNA available. It's what the birder sees that counts. In my case, I'm a photographer as well, which gives me an edge, but not proof positive. When and where the photo was taken is as important as the subject itself.
    I poured through The Sibley Guide To Birds, The Audubon Society Field Guide To North American Birds, Roger Tory Peterson's Field Guide To Birds East Of The Rockies, then consulted the web sites Whatbird and Allaboutbirds. My head was spinning! "Red Rover, Red Rover........." I could hear them screaming and feel myself falling as I churned the pages. Still not confident, I sent the photos to CHIT, my top secret, crack, hawk identification team. When I e mailed the photos, I held my breath and committed that  I thought it was a juvenile, Red-shouldered hawk, highly unusual in Maine in winter. I gulped, pulling the neck of my shirt away from my throat. "Oh God, I'm going to look like a total idiot," I feared. I thought I was going to pass out! Give me a mean spirited kids game over birding any day! At least kids grow out of it.



Red-shouldered hawk with suicidal Chickadee      Juvenile, Red-shouldered hawk - I broke through the line!

All photographs used in this blog are the work of Robin R Robinson.

American robin

Frost

After one of our recent rain events, where everyone north of us got snow, there was beautiful frost on everything. I took these photographs wearing my bathrobe. I had to act fast to capture this beauty before the sun hit it and melted away the delicate frosting.This ephemeral effect only happens when there has been water then suddenly freezing temperatures. It disappears as soon as the rays of the morning sun strike. Now, it's buried under snow and gone.  

All the photographs in this blog have been captured by Robin Robinson.