Ramblings
2008-06-06
Missing Clammers
No matter the temperature nor the impending storm, I have seen clammers working the clam beds. Sometimes across the marsh at Conomo Point, other times by Cross Island or Hog Island. Bent at the waist, turning over forkfuls of sand in search of the elusive soft-shell clam. I imagine that they know the river and its shifting sands like no others. Anchoring their small outboards off-shore, they wade in to the exposed flats and work until just before their skiff gets beached by the receding tide. Then, zoom away to haul out their boats and deliver that day's harvest. Just another typical workday at Seal Bank, Dilly Flat, Eska's Nub, Hardy's Creek. A few weeks ago, all the local clam beds were closed due to the seasonal 'bloom' of the Red Tide algae. I wonder if they miss being on the flats as much as I miss seeing them there.2008-05-30
Courting and Sparking
Every living thing around here is busy celebrating this year's new beginning. Sitting under the maple tree, the buzz of multiple honeybee wings is stunningly loud. From dawn to dusk, there is always at least one bird chatting and chirping and calling to their friends. At night the coyotes are yipping and howling across the marsh flats, proudly proclaiming their existence. But the best, the very best, is watching any bird in flight. To say they swoop and swirl is a gross understatement. No matter the make or model, their flying skills are magnificent. Swallows turn on a dime, sparrows fly straight into bird houses with nary a pause. Egrets, sea gulls, cormorants, and sandpipers appear to fly backwards as they navigate among the marsh grasses. Blackbirds, bobolinks, warblers: all are able to land on impossibly small sticks as well as navigate at speed through close branches, and all while the spring winds blow. In the midst of it all, at the center of it all, is the simple desire to survive, to procreate, to hold off extinction for one more season.2008-05-15
Exceptional High Tides
The highest tides have occurred deep in the night and during a new moon, so impossible to see the marsh covered with such a depth of water. The wading birds are in their prime, feasting on the creatures left behind in the salt pannes. I know these higher tides and on-shore winds create havoc with many eroding shore-fronts, but tucked as we are behind the barrier of Crane Beach we have no such concerns. In the distance I can see the waves breaking at the mouth of the estuary. The marsh fills with the sound of the sand being pulled and pushed by the sea, like the low rumble of a mile-long freight train crossing the Saskatchewan plains, amplified. Once you hear it, you will know this sound cannot be taken for the undulating whistle of wind through tall pines. One of Mother Nature's best lullabies.2008-04-20
Aahhh, Spring
Awoke to the music of a Goldfinch singing. Sunny and warm before the sea breeze came up. Morning tea on the deck with red-winged blackbirds, bluebirds, swallows, sparrows, egrets, sandpipers, ducks, seagulls, osprey, glossy ibis, mockingbirds, flicker, robins, dogs, clammers, and kayakers.2008-04-16
Citizen Scientist
Last weekend I went to the second annual Great Marsh Symposium, an event energized by a coalition of national and local organizations dedicated to preserving wild spaces and wildlife, with particular emphasis on the Great Marsh Area of Environmental Concern (ACEC) on the Massachusetts/New Hampshire coast. A day of fun and informative presentations ranging from the life of a Shellfish Constable to that of a nineteenth century salt marsh farmer, capped off by the latest climate change news from a member of the Union of Concerned Scientists. Thought provoking, all.
From my viewpoint, one of the most inspirational speakers gave a talk entitled "In Search of the Salt Marsh Tiger Beetle". Chris Leahy of Mass Audubon spoke a little of that, but more of what that search represents. How is it that we know, truly understand, so very little of what is around us every day. Although I could be speaking metaphorically, in this instance I am referring to the other life forms sharing the planet with us. Did you know that some birds dwell in colonies, so that your backyard could have an entirely different composition from your neighbor's? Where do ladybugs sleep? How is that the other day I watched a Great Black-Backed Gull (30", about 4 pounds) nip at and prod a Harbor Seal (at least 5', over 150 pounds) off of his resting place on the marsh? I have Bluebirds and Tree Sparrows and Tree Swallows all interested in my marsh-front bird houses - a problem or a positive?
I don't know any answers; maybe others do. But what I can do is observe, and share my observations - as a Citizen Scientist. And maybe my simple website will inspire others to observe their own backyards and one day discover their own tiger beetle, and save our planet.
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