Hank teased me along the river this week. And when I went to visit the Eastons, the otters were romping around the pond.
The Vermont North By Hand Tour is coming up fast. Artists around the Upper Valley will be exhibiting. Some in their studios. Those of us without a proper studio have to make other plans. I’ll be set up at Sue Martin’s Farm on Route 5 on the Bradford – Fairlee town line. The tour map online still isn’t updated, but trust me, that’s where I’ll be. Sue will be showing off her stained glass and Carole Kitchel Bellew will be set up with her ceramic art. The map of the other artists is here. The tour is a great way to spend the day. Hope to see you there.
Wednesday evening I wasn’t feeling very energetic. It seemed like a nice evening to sit on the deck and finish my book. But one of the downsides of being a photographer is that you have to get going and, well, photograph things. The weather was perfect and I couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to not go visit Hank, et al.
As I was putting the boat in the river, a lady paddled upstream. She said Hank was ‘just around the corner.’ He’d moved on by the time I made it around the corner. The river was pretty quiet. A couple northern flickers were chatting. And a green heron flew downstream, squawking as he went. I took the boat into the marsh to the section of shore that I’ve had such great luck finding the herons. There were a couple painted turtles basking. And starlings everywhere in the reeds. But no herons.
I sat and waited a bit. Still no herons. There was a cloud on the horizon and the sun was heading behind it. There was still time to work on that book. I headed home.
As I got back to the river, Hank flew in and landed in the shadows just upstream. There was a patch of sun along the shore between us and another upstream where the shore juts out a bit. I figured the odds were low of Hank cooperating and moving into the sun. But I waited. The sun came back out – barely above the hill. Hank did the inscrutable heron thing and stood stock still staring into the water.
The sun was almost gone before Hank moved. But he did. He headed upstream and stood on the edge of the patch of sun. I started shooting. I got off several shots. When I got home and checked the timestamps on the photos, Hank was in the sun 42 seconds between my first shot and when the sun disappeared. So, I got one photo. But entirely worth it! One of the nicest shots I’ve made all year. And a contender for the heron exhibit I’m working on.
Hank worked his way back downstream towards me, stalking something. And facing me. Suddenly he turned and struck right behind where he was standing. This would have been an amazing photo if we could see his face. Herons giveth and herons taketh away. I headed home, eager to see if the sunlight shot had worked.
Thursday was another nice evening. As I tossed the boat on the car, I noticed bees working on the last of the asters along the drive.
The bees are western honey bees (I think!).
There were several dozen bees and more insects working the flowers.
One more bee on one more aster. I headed down to the river.
No sign of Hank or his cronies as I went downstream. I poked around the marsh looking in all the nooks and crannies. And came up empty. Not a heron to be found.
The colors across the river were well turned. I headed home without anything to show for the effort.
Friday morning I headed up to visit the Eastons. It was an invigorating 38° when I put the boat in the water. It is getting time for the adults to move on.
I paddled down the pond without seeing any loons. I turned around and came back up the pond. Without seeing any loons.
The colors along the shore were nice and the mist added some nice atmosphere. I began to fear that I was to strike out again. Then the romp of four otters appeared. They were busy feeding. The Eastons seem to have crayfish as a larger part of their diet than the other loon families I follow. I’ve wondered for years if there was a larger than normal population of crayfish or if the Eastons just preferred them to fish. The otters never had to dive long before resurfacing. And every meal I could identify was a crayfish. Sounds like a clue that crayfish may be easy pickings on the pond.
Almost all of my encounters with otters over the years were brief. The otters would pop out of the water, stretch their necks up, PFFFFTTTTT at me and disappear. This morning, they didn’t seem to care that I was out and about. They went about ottering with me trying to keep up. Here, two climb out on some rocks while waiting for the other two to catch up. When the others caught up, the romp headed down the shore and went ashore. Otters don’t poop in the water. They climb out and use one of several ‘latrines’ the romp has established around the pond. These guys climbed out and went up in the brush – I suspect they needed the bathroom. Every once in a while, one would appear in this clear spot on the bank. I think he’s checking to see if I’m still hanging out.
After a few minutes, they headed back out for more breakfast. They travel quickly. And they stay very close together.
And they change direction often and for no apparent reason.
And they’re prone to diving together.
Oops, this guy took a wrong turn underwater and is looking to see where his buddies went. When they surface, they seem to exchange information. Perhaps sharing their favorite fishing hole? One last look at the otters.
While I was watching the otters, Mom appeared with one of the chicks in hot pursuit.
The chick is capable of taking care of himself at this point. This one was still practicing his calls this morning (I didn’t hear him practice yodeling, so it may be she.)
But Mom was willing to come up with breakfast. The chick wasn’t going to pass that up. Crayfish yet again.
Mom delivering another crayfish.
And again with a crayfish. And yet another crayfish. Enjoy this while you can, kid.
As soon as the chick swallowed his meal, he went after Mom to convince her he wanted more.
The chicks aren’t at all gentle. I’m surprised the parents don’t correct them when they get particularly aggressive.
Mom took a few minutes to preen – with the chick poking and prodding her as she did. She finished with a nice stretch. That’s the chick under her left wing.
Mom went back to feeding. It was time for me to head in. There was no sign of Dad on the pond. He hasn’t been there the last few visits. I suspect he headed out a little early for some rest. And I never found the second chick. That chick seemed to be a bit ahead in development. Again I’d bet he’s taken off to explore the world.
I hope everyone is well above water level. The nor’easter can’t decide if it is going to do much in Vermont or not. The wind picks up and dies down and we’ve had a few sprinkles. So far, not much to talk about. Hopefully it stays that way for everyone.
