Loading...
May 05, 1988 - A Quiet Pond Springs to Life�I�ay;S „_ 98 he Wfolk Timefil agax-*$A A Quiet Pond Springs to Life By Paul Stoutenburgh Down in back by the pasture we have a small pond. It might not seem like much to some people but our family has enjoyed it over the years. To me it is one of the chief drawing cards on our place for it is here that the birds congre- gate to bathe, drink and feed. It was originally an irrigation pond where the farmer drew water to irrigate his crops. Today it is ringed by our pasture and our cows often go there to drink. They've Focus on Mature broken down the steep sides so that now there is a gradual incline into the water making it ideal for birds and turtles. I've put an old redwood chair down there, half - hidden by a big multiflora rose, and it's here 1 can sit and watch the world of the pond go by. And what a world it is. Just last week Barbara and I sat there with camera and binoculars, fascinated by the activity. Painted turtles that recently worked their way out of the cold winter's mud were basking in the sun on a log. Being cold - blooded creatures, they have to get out of their cold world and warm up whenever possible. If there's no log in the pond then the bank will do, but the log is safer. You have to be extremely quiet when you approach if you want to see them. A snapped stick underfoot or a quick move and they'll slide off the log into the safety of the water. Soon they'll mate and the female will head upland to a sunny, sandy spot to lay her leathery- shelled eggs. They'll be incubated by the warmth of the sun and if no raccoon or fox discovers them, they'll hatch when the weather is warm enough and the turtles will return to the pond before winter sets in. Birds Enjoy the Pond Once we were settled by the pond edge, the birds started to come back. Grackles and red -wings came to drink, poke around the bank and bathe. In and out they would go in a steady proces- sion, each eager to take advantage of the water's edge. Then a pair of noisy - winged mourn- ing doves flew in, their big bodies and long tails silhouetted against the sky make them easy to recognize. By now they have built their flimsy stick nests and are probably incubating or feeding young. They are so ambitious, they will probably bring off two or three broods before the nesting season is over. Their coo - coo - cooing is often mistaken to be the voice of an owl but few owls call during the daytime. In the multiflora rose there was con- tinual chattering of house finches and house sparrows as they played games in the protected shield of shrubbery. Male finches are at their prime in color and their raspberry-red heads and shoulders make them handsome suitors. Of course, the drab- colored female seems to take the back seat and hops and feeds as if the male weren't around. The house sparrow has already taken up residence with its feather -lined nests in many of my bird houses. Along with the finches and sparrows, we spot two or three Myrtle or yellow - rumped war- blers. Their long, pointed bills are busily snipping up insects invisible for Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh MOURNING DOVE.-These early nesters have already paired off. We hear their mournful coo - coo -coo which sometimes people believe is an owl calling. us. Their busy -ness tells us they must be getting something to eat. Then we noticed a real discovery -- a small, trim - looking bird with a cream eye streak feeding where our bees like to drink. Its tail continually bobbed up and down as it jabbed here and there for what later we found to be some sort of small worm. It was a northern water thrush, one of the birds that announce the be- ginning of the migration of warblers. This little fellow nests north of us all the way to the Arctic and spends its winters in the tropics. Roy Wilcox, the famous naturalist of our South Shore, banded a northern wa- ter thrush at his station at Tiana Beach in Westhampton on Sept. 27, 1958, and it was recovered at Caracus, Venezuela, two months later on Nov. 29. As we sat there and watched, we wondered where this harbinger of spring had come from. Nest - Building Time As I watched a robin come and fill her bill with mud for the lining of her nest, a pair of chickadees flew in above me. I'm always glad to see these busy little fellows but wondered what they were doing at the pond. Chickadees do not migrate any great distance and therefore the ones you see at your feeder probably are nesting nearby. I didn't move as they came closer and closer and they never noticed me. Then one of them dropped down by some moss growing on the side of the pond and started picking away at it. What was she up to? Some of the moss was discarded while other bits and pieces were kept in her tiny bill. Soon, with a bulging mouthful that seemed too large for her to carry, she flitted away with the other one in pursuit across the pas- ture. There was nothing out there except a hedgerow and open fields. Could it be she was heading for one of my bird boxes that I had just put up this year? Sure enough, we later found the two of them busy building their nest for the coming events. It'll be fun to watch them as they incubate and raise their young. A lone titmouse jitted about in the underbrush that lines the pond, but I saw nothing unusual about its activi- ties. Like the chickadee, they build their nests in bird houses or cavities in a tree. I'll have to check the woods in back of the house. Three or four marauding bluejays flew in to take over the pond. They drank and called and moved about as if they were the bosses of the whole area. Then, as quick as they had come, they were off calling to each other as if they owned the world out there also. Willows were leaning over the pond with their greenish- yellow foliage that seemed to drip from every limb and twig. The swamp maple added its red glow to the far side of the pond. By now the afternoon sun- made the area glow with a spring radiance that would be hard to duplicate. It was good to be alive, enjoying the splendor and warmth of this extra - special day at the pond. Yet it wasn't really anything extra - special at all; it was just our being there and noticing it.that made it so. As the sun lowered itself in the west we headed home across the pasture. A pair of black ducks wheeled and dropped in to take our place. The pond was in good hands. Thursday means The Suffolk Times W I-Aff 9}} d (y410 ` "Let us pamper your pet. ” Main Road, Mattituck Tuesday - Saturday 9:30 -4 :30 298 -4933 Flea and tick season is here. We are here for all a, your grooming needs. Large or small. Pedi- gree or variety. MANHANSET AVE. at STIRLING HARBOR MARINA, GREENPORT. N.Y. Spanish Continental Cuisine NOW OPEN Join us for Mother's Day Dinner For reservations. call 4?? -1777 r r May 5, 0188fTfib 6uffofk T1irht*§}t t§e14eA A Quiet Pond Springs to Life By Paul Stoutenburgh Down in back by the pasture we have a small pond. It might not seem like much to some people but our family has enjoyed it over the years. To me it is one of the chief drawing cards on our place for it is here that the birds congre- gate to bathe, drink and feed. It was originally an irrigation pond where the farmer drew water to irrigate his crops. Today it is ringed by our pasture and our cows often go there to drink. They've Focus on Nature broken down the steep sides so that now there is a gradual incline into the water making it ideal for birds and turtles. I've put an old redwood chair down there, half- hidden by a big multiflora rose, and it's here I can sit and watch the world of the pond go by. And what a world it is. Just last week Barbara and I sat there with camera and binoculars, fascinated by the activity. Painted turtles that recently worked their way out of the cold winter's mud were basking in the sun on a log. Being cold - blooded creatures, they have to get out of their cold world and warm up whenever possible. If there's no log in the pond then the bank will do, but the log is safer. You have to be extremely quiet when you approach if you want to see them. A snapped stick underfoot or a quick move and they'll slide off the log into the safety of the water. Soon they'll mate and the female will head upland to a sunny, sandy spot to lay her leathery- shelled eggs. They'll be incubated by the warmth of the sun and if no raccoon or fox discovers them, they'll hatch when the weather is warm enough and the turtles will return to the pond before winter sets in. Birds Enjoy the Pond Once we were settled by the pond edge, the birds started to come back. Grackles and red -wings came to drink, poke around the bank and bathe. In and out they would go in a steady proces- sion, each eager to take advantage of the water's edge. Then a pair of noisy - winged mourn- ing doves flew in, their big bodies and long tails silhouetted against the sky make them easy to recognize. By now they have built their flimsy stick nests and are probably incubating or feeding young. They are so ambitious, they will probably bring off two or three broods before the nesting season is over. Their coo - coo - cooing is often mistaken to be the voice of an owl but few owls call during the daytime. In the multiflora rose there was con- tinual chattering of house finches and house sparrows as they played games in the protected shield of shrubbery. Male finches are at their prime in color and their raspberry-red heads and shoulders make them handsome suitors. Of course, the drab- colored female seems to take the back seat and hops and feeds as if the male weren't around. The house sparrow has already taken up residence with its feather -lined nests in many of my bird houses. Along with the finches and sparrows, we spot two or three Myrtle or yellow - rumped war- blers. Their long, pointed bills are busily snipping up insects invisible for Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh MOURNING DOVE- -These early nesters have already paired off. We hear their mournful coo - coo -coo which sometimes people believe is an owl calling. us. Their busy -ness tells us they must be getting something to eat. Then we noticed a real discovery -- a small, trim - looking bird with a cream eye streak feeding where our bees like to drink. Its tail continually bobbed up and down as it jabbed here and there for what later we found to be some sort of small worm. It was a northern water thrush, one of the birds that announce the be- ginning of the migration of warblers. This little fellow nests north of us all the way to the Arctic and spends its winters in the tropics. Roy Wilcox, the famous naturalist of our South Shore, banded a northern wa- ter thrush at his station at Tiana Beach in Westhampton on Sept. 27, 1958, and it was recovered at Caracus, Venezuela, two months later on Nov. 29. As we sat there and watched, we wondered where this harbinger of spring had come from. Nest - Building Time As I watched a robin come and fill her bill with mud for the lining of her nest, a pair of chickadees flew in above me. I'm always glad to see these busy little fellows but wondered what they were doing at the pond. Chickadees do not migrate any great distance and therefore the ones you see at your feeder probably are nesting nearby. I didn't move as they came closer and closer and they never noticed me. Then one of them dropped down by some moss growing on the side of the pond and started picking away at it. What was she up to? Some of the moss was discarded while other bits and pieces were kept in her tiny bill. Soon, with a bulging mouthful that seemed too large for her to carry, she flitted away with the other one in pursuit across the pas- ture. There was nothing out there except a hedgerow and open fields. Could it be she was heading for one of my bird boxes that I had just put up this year? Sure enough, we later found the two of them busy building their nest for the coming events. It'll be fun to watch them as they incubate and raise their young. A lone titmouse jitted about in the underbrush that lines the pond, but I saw nothing unusual about its activi- ties. Like the chickadee, they build their nests in bird houses or cavities in a tree. I'll have to check the woods in back of the house. Three or four marauding bluejays flew in to take over the pond. They drank and called and moved about as if they were the bosses of the whole area. Then, as quick as they had come, they were off calling to each other as if they owned the world out there also. Willows were leaning over the pond with their greenish- yellow foliage that seemed to drip from every limb and twig. The swamp maple added its red glow to the far side of the pond. By now the afternoon sun made the area glow with a spring radiance that would be hard to duplicate. It was good to be alive, enjoying the splendor and warmth of this extra - special day at the pond. Yet it wasn't really anything extra - special at all; it was just our being there and noticing it that made it so. As the sun lowered itself in the west we headed home across the pasture. A pair of black ducks wheeled and dropped in to take our place. The pond was in good hands. Thursday means The Suffolk Times MANHANSET AVE. at STIRLING HARBOR MARINA, GREENPORT, N.Y. Spanish Continental Cuisine NOW OPEN Join us for Mother's Day Dinner For reservations. call 477 -1777