March 17, 1977 - A Naturalist Looks and Listens...March 17, 1977
focus on nature
by Paul Stoutenburgh
A NATURALIST LOOKS AND LISTENS
FOR SPRING...
There's still a little ice in the pond down
the hill but it looks soft and dirty which
spells its doom within the week. If it were
not so shaded it would have gone long ago
but being hidden from the sun was all it
needed to linger on.
Spring started way back in mid winter
when we saw the skunk cabbage starting to
burn its way through the frozen ground. By
now, it's blossoming and on warmer days if
you look real close you'll see small insects
doing their endless job of pollinating. The
skunk cabbage would never win a place on
your table, but it surely has a place in the
wet woodland of Moore's Woods in Green -
port. Later, when the leaves become
broadened by the warmth of spring, the
skunk cabbage will be joined by many jack -
in- the - pulpits nearby.
March so far has been very good to us with
its 50 degree weather. The worms in my
lawn are starting to show up and as I dig
about in the garden, their presence is seen in
every spadeful. This warmth signals the
northern migration of many types of birds.
One in particular that has special equipment
to deal with earthworm gathering is the
woodcock. His specially long bill and big
eyes for operating at night, equip him well to
hunt the wet spots for his favorite meal of
night crawlers. On a good night, this robin -
size bird can eat twice his weight in worms.
Once in a while, one of the birds stays all
winter at a wet spot providing it doesn't
freeze. For as soon as that happens the food
locker is closed and starvation takes over. A
fate that took many birds this year.
Anyone who lives op our creeks and bays
also witnessed the "signal of spring"
amongst our waterfowl. The red - breasted
mergansers, oldsquaws, and buffleheads, to
name just a few, are really showing their
courtship rituals now. Lots of jealous male
lovers are defending their pride and joy.
Battles that are really shams, go on all day
long. And when they're not trying to drive
away a jealous suitor, they're throwing their
head way back and paddling around like
some miniature circus float. For those who
have binoculars, it's a hilarious sight.
The swans are pairing off now too and will
soon be looking for that special site to set up
their massive nests. One of these six foot
grass nests with its perfect white swan
asetting is truly a picture of peace and
tranquility. But not so should you come too
close, for these birds are fierce defenders of
their territory. Take heed and enjoy them
from a distance for if one doesn't head you
off, the other will.
Of course,while all this is going on,the male
redwing blackbirds have arrived.First
in groups of ten and twenty. Seemingly each
supporting the other in this still cold en-
vironment but as the temperature rises,
they split to find their nesting sites. Each
morning I look out and one sits on a willow
down by the pond. Lo to the redwing that
enters his territory. His rasping call lets
everyone know this. Other birds can come
in, for they are no threat to him but should a
red epauletted intruder pass too closely, a
chase is on. Later this month or early April,
the female will move in and the match will
be complete. The low nest of reeds or grass
will be built and 3 or 4 spotted eggs will be
laid. And so it goes.
Probably the sign of spring least seen by
most is the appearance of the salamanders
in March when they, like the earthworms,
start to move about as the frost comes out of
the ground. The salamanders have laid
dormant throughout the winter,under some
log or buried deep in the mud of a pond. Now
the temperature has warmed them. Not
warmed in the sense you and I think of as
warm, but enoueh to start their survival
(continued on next page)
senses so they know it's time to mate in the
cold water of the woodland ponds. But who
would ever witness this strange courtship?
Surely not a sane person, for he would
usually have to go alone, after a rain in
March and stomp through the mud and wet
of a dreary night, to find these elusive
creatures. But should he persevere, he'd
find the salamanders like the great spotted
laying its eggs in strings or clusters to the
undergrowth of the pond. After theMeggs are
laid, the, salamander prods back to his
hiding place only to be seen again on another
wet dark night. It's a fascinating story and
only one of thousands that are enacted each
day and night in this mysterious world of the
outdoors.
Closer to home the signs of spring are all
about. Our outside porch light has already
attracted the first moth of the pesty
inchworm.That devilish fellow is already
looking for his mate. Each year the
flightless female emerges from the ground
on warm nights and works her way tediously
to the top of our trees. Here she lays her
eggs that have been fertilized by the male on
her trip up. A scent lures the male to her but
it takes a sharp eye to find her camouflaged
body against the bark. The product
Tanglefoot, applied in a ring around the tree
will stop her. So frustrated by the sticky
substance, she lays her eggs right there. The
time capsule of laying cannot be shut off.
Later, the starlings, chickadees and
woodpeckers will enjoy a feast of female
and eggs just below the barrier of
Tanglefoot.
Another spring change we have noticed
here is that the chickens are laying so much
better. Each almost wants to outdo the
other. Our trickle of eggs through the winter
has grown by leaps and bounds. Our cup
runneth over. For those who don't know the
pleasure of chickens, you can still tell the
increase in egg production by the fact that
egg prices have gone way down in the
market place. That old adage — supply and
demand — surely holds true here.
A sign of spring that is not too pleasant but
one I see almost every day riding to work is
the dead opossum, raccoon or muskrat
along the road. They, too, have been brought
out by the warm weather and are looking for
a mate. Most have been driven away by the
adults and are seeking greener pastures and
in their wanderings must cross man's busy
highways.
With all these signs of spring whetting our
appetites, my wife ana I naa to go out to try
to find the first osprey. Last year we found it
atop Roy Latham's windmill. Usually
March 21 is the day but occasionally there
are sightings earlier if the weather is mild.
Our day was raw, rainy and cold. Not too
appealing for man or bird. As we drove
along the roads to Orient, stopping here and
there, we talked about the fate of these great
fish hawks. The signs last year were good.
There were bigger clutches of eggs and the
hatching rate was up. Perhaps man had
corrected his misuse of the envioronment
and the pendulum was slowly swinging
towards a better world.
As we rounded the sharp turn by Pete's
Neck our hearts stopped. Could it be? We
saw a large bird sitting close to an old nest.
We had to make sure. We bundled up with
rain gear and boots and trekked out along
the marsh. As we got closer the big bird flew
from its perch and out over the bay.
Binoculars were up. No. It was not an osprey
but a rough - legged hawk. A straggler from
our past winter. It was a disappointment for
sure but it did add that bit of excitement that
awaits all those who will get out and look for
the first signs of spring.
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THE SKUNK CABBAGE would never win a place on your table, but it surely has a place
in the spring woodlands of Moore's Woods. sketch by Dennis Puleston