The Easton chicks have decided to fly and I visited the coast to see what I could find.
The Vermont North By Hand Open Studio Tour is coming up. The tour will be on October 10 & 11 from 10 to 5 each day. My tiny office isn’t much to see, so Sue Martin – the stained glass maker – has offered to let me set up at her farm. The Martin Farm is on Route 5, right on the Bradford – Fairlee town line. The VTNBH map isn’t yet correct, but here’s a map to Sue’s: Martin Farm Bradford, VT. Please stop in to check out Sue’s stained glass and my set up.
Last weekend, I headed down to the coast. I caught up with a friend and our first stop was the egret roost in Seabrook.
The roost hosts mostly great egrets along with a large group of snowy egrets. When I visited, there were a couple glossy ibis and cormorants mixed in as well. I asked Grok to count the birds in a photo, it came up with 173 great egrets and 53 snowy egrets. And that was after a sizable number had already left. Birders posting on the NH Birds list often count over 300.
The roost isn’t a great way to photograph the birds; they arrive after the sun starts setting and get on their way before it rises. And they’re back far enough in the swamp to be hidden by the trees.
As the light brightened, there were lots of egrets flying.
They headed off in all directions.
After the flock had headed out for the day, we headed for Plum Island. Where we found lots of egrets. As the tide went out, the egrets, cormorants and lots of wading birds were feeding on the fish still in the shallow water.
After breakfast, they all came ashore to preen.
We walked down the beach to see what we might find. There was a large flock of gulls and a couple dozen semipalmated sandpipers.
We watched the sandpipers feed for a time before heading back up the Island to see who else might be around.
There were lots of egrets working the salt marsh – mostly too far away to be photographed. This guy didn’t get the memo to stay away.
A trio of Hudsonian whimbrels landed out in the tall grass – almost too far for photos.
Another great egret that didn’t get the memo to stay out of camera range.
We headed north to check out the Maine Coast. We got some nice walks in, but found nothing to photograph.
The next morning, I visited the egret roost again before wandering up the coast. In Rye, I found Hank Heron and a small flock of egrets and a larger flock of lesser yellowlegs foraging in a shallow tidal pool.
Hank, the great blue heron, was overseeing the action. All the birds were rapidly catching the small fish that made a poor career choice to stay in the pool when the tide went out.
Hank showing off his boardinghouse reach. The other birds in the pool were respectful of Hank, and didn’t get very close to his pointy end. They’d walk well out of his reach or behind him when they wanted to go by.
There was a pair of snowy egrets that couldn’t get along. They’d squabble when they got too close to one another. This one is still fluffed up after displaying while chasing his nemesis away. Hank was watching the fish.
It looks like Hank has gathered his flock together for a sermon. What would a heron sermon be about? Zen and the Art of Catching Fish?
If Hank had been talking about everybody getting along, the egrets didn’t get the message. This pool just wasn’t big enough for the both of them.
This egret is still all puffed up after the kerfuffle. I’m not sure I’d want to mess with him.
Hank and one of the egrets seemed to have cleaned out the larder at this end of the pool and are headed to the other end to see what’s down there for snacks.
I spent over an hour on my belly in the marsh watching this group. And getting soggy. After a change of clothes, I continued on north then west to head home.
Last Tuesday checked in on the Eastons. The chicks were about 11 weeks old – time for them to be trying to fly. I’d been watching for them to try on my last few visits. They didn’t cooperate.
Mom was on the pond. I didn’t find Dad, it is likely he headed to a nearby pond for some R&R. The chicks were hounding Mom to be fed. This chick is trying to remind her that she has chicks and they’re hungry.
Mom! Mom! I’m right here Mom! Mom! Mom! I’m hungry! Mom!
I’m hungry! Mom! Mom! The chicks are big enough to keep up with her now, she can’t just swim away to get a break. I’m convinced this is why the loon parents leave before the chicks – just to get some time for themselves.
Mom eventually flew several hundred yards down the pond to get away. She preened briefly before stretching.
The chicks appeared to consider actually foraging for themselves. But, the wind came up and they decided it was time to try to fly.
On the first attempt, neither chick got anywhere near airborne. But, chicks always look so proud of themselves after a good attempt. This one had a good stretch.
He took a break from trying to fly to practice his yodel. It was clearly a yodel, if a little squeaky. Biologists think the loon’s yodel gets deeper as the bird gets larger and older. That would be a good way to signal to a challenger that they’re big and tough and not to be messed with. This guy has a ways to go.
The other chick gave flying a try as well. Then came over to discuss it with his sibling.
The wind died down for a bit. The chicks foraged lazily and this one gave a good stretch.
Cruising by me while he waited for the wind to pick up again.
The wind is back up! He’s giving it another try! It was a great effort, but this was about as high as he got.
He was determined to get airborne. He swam back downwind, turned and made another try. He’s got his belly out of the water and was flying between footsteps, but couldn’t stay up.
He kept at it.
It didn’t look like this was to be the morning. He settled back down and skidded to a stop. I’m sure by the time I get back to visit, both chicks will have mastered it and will be flying as they wish.
On my way to the boat launch, I startled the quartet of otters. This pair stopped to let me know they disapproved before swimming away.
Yesterday, I went looking for Hank and the green herons in Bradford.
There looked to be only a very light fog in the valley as I packed up the car. By the time I found Hank, it had gotten thick. Hank went about finding breakfast and ignoring me. The top of the trees behind Hank were lit and were above the fog. If Hank would just wait a few minutes, there might be a great photo along here. Hank isn’t into waiting for the light. He took off downstream.
Or maybe he was just looking for a more dramatic perch….
He was relaxing and taking in the early sun. He probably wanted to warm up – I know I did. After a time, he flew a bit back upstream to get serious about finding breakfast.
There’s a stretch of river bank that borders shallow water and is relatively brush free. Hank stared at the upstream end of that stretch, I beached the boat at the sound end and hoped he’d work his way to me. Looks like he’s spotted a meal!
Well, no. He’d nabbed a stick. He tried tasting the stick with it pointing out, pointing to the left and even pointing to the right. But, it just wasn’t very tasty. Back it went.
I’d hoped he’d work his way to me, I hadn’t expected him to walk right up to me. My 800mm lens proved to be too long. I backed up to try again.
Hank grabbed another stick….
This one was catch and release as well. Let’s face it, you can’t find sticks like Mom used to make in just any old river.
Another try…. what will he come up with this time?
This time, he came up with a tiny snack – some sort of water bug I think.
And another stick!
And one more…. The area where he was foraging has had a population of young pickerel (or relatives) hunting in there every time I’ve paddled through. I wonder if Hank was mistaking the sticks for them.
This time he put a little more effort into his strike – and came up with a small fish.
Something startled him and he jumped clear of the water.
Whatever it was, it didn’t scare him off. He promptly went back to foraging. I had to head home.
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