Octobe 21, 1993 - Wings on the WindFocus on Nature
Wings on
I
By Paul Stoutenburgh
It looks like we are in for a few days
of stormy weather. I was going to say
raw days but I'll keep that adjective for
later this winter. Instead it is a cool,
grey day with a strong wind out of the
east. All the boats moored in the once -
protected lee of the shore now have the
tables turned on them and are tugging
frantically at their moorings.
To most it's a dreary day, a good day
for staying at home and reading books.
Perhaps a fire in the fireplace to add a
bit of cheer will help. Yet the seagulls
that patrol the beaches probably enjoy
this kind of day for it's now that new
spoils of the sea will be cast up for their
review. Also, on calm days they must
work harder to keep aloft. Today it
seems as if they drift back and forth ef-
fortlessly in what appears to be a long
continuous glide.
One of the gulls has been rewarded
with some sort of crustacean that needs
opening, and so up into the wind it flies,
letting it go in hopes of breaking it open
on the ground below. H this strategy
works, he'll soon be jabbing and digging
with his bill— breakfast is served.
This weather seems to have no effect
on the cormorants that feed out in front.
Their underwater world is not one of
wind and flight but rather one of quiet
and swimming. The cormorant's bill is
designed differently than the gull's. Un-
like the big heavy pointed ram of the
gull, the cormorant's bill is long, slender
and laced with grooves that can hold
fast to any slippery critter that it might
fasten upon.
Like wolves, cormorants often hunt in
packs and use this technique when feed-
ing. Just the other day I saw five or six
working together out in front. It looked
as if they had teamed up to catch the
fast swimming snappers that are in the
bay now. I remember seeing this team-
work being used by hundreds of cormor-
ants down south one time. The fish were
panicked by the wave of cormorants
moving against them in a wild frenzy of
diving, thrashing and feeding. Gulls and
terns added to what appeared to be ut-
ter confusion, but in reality each bird
was doing its part to effect a no-lose feed
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he Wind
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After the cormorant swims below, it
must come out of its watery haunts and
dry out. They do not have the oily insu-
lated feathers of the ducks and geese,
and when their feathers become wet and
the bird becomes uncomfortable, it has
to dry out. We often see them sitting on
fish nets, buoys and pilings, black sil-
houettes with winds spread heading into
the wind to dry— nature's way of hang-
ing out its laundry.
Change of scene; time lapse into the
following day. We're sitting by the pic-
ture window in the cabin overlooking the
still storm -swept bay when out of the
corner of my eye I see a deer running
along the water's edge. Now, deer are
basically secretive during the day and
are usually nestled down in a grassy or
wooded spot that is little traveled; that
is, until a roving dog disturbs them and
then it's off and running.
Few people realize that many pet
dogs revert back to their species' past
when they come upon the scent of a
deer. Then the chase is on. Deer can ac-
tually outrun most dogs, at least over
short distances, but in confined areas
like most of the woodlands here on the
East End (with the exception the pine
barrens) the deer are sooner or later
pushed out of their sparse cover, and
that was just what had happened here.
I could see the deer panting, as if it had
been chased for some time.
It wasn't long before the dog turned
up in hot pursuit. Now both were going
full tilt along the water's edge. The deer
must have realized that it had to do
something quickly, for the beach ended
only a short stretch ahead where the
creek flows into the bay. Its only choice
was to escape into the bay, and so off it
went, leaping and splashing in water
that was only knee-deep near shore.
When the dog got to where the deer de-
parted into the water, he stopped and
barked. I'd guess he felt this was not
fair, for the deer has longer legs and is
an expert swimmer.
We watched the drama unfold as the
deer got into deeper and deeper water.
Soon it was swimming with only its
small head showing. But what made it
easy to follow were the big oversized
ears that stood out clearly as it pushed
for the opposite shore a half mile away.
The dog, looking puzzled, sat at the
water's edge and watched as we went
to get our binoculars and scope. Then
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almost half a mile to safety after being chased to the beach by a dog. —Paul Stoutenburgh
the waiting game started. All we could
see was a small dot on the water where
those big ears slowly moved across the
bay. What seemed like hours was really
about 30 minutes when the deer finally
reached the cove on the opposite side.
It came out of the water slowly, stood
there for a few minutes looking and snif-
fing the air —was it safe? Every once in
a while it would look back across the bay
to see that no danger came from there.
Darkness closed in as we last saw the
deer moving into the tall grass. The
drama was over. The dog lost interest
and walked slowly up the beach toward
home.
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THE SOUTHAMPTON PRESS I OCTOBER 21, 1993