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March 15, 2001 - A wintry walk at Cedar BeachSuffolk Times • March 15, 2001 A wintry walk. at Cedar Beach THE WEATHER HAS BEEN PRETTY poor these last few days and we haven't gotten out of the house much. Oh, we might get out to go to the store but nothing compared to a real outdoor activity. So we decided.to stretch our legs and take a walk at Cedar Beach Focus Park in ON Southold.,This is by the complex NATURE that Cornell by Paul Cooperative Stoutenbuigh Extension and the county have worked out where they are doing wonderful things in getting the public involved in aquaculture and the world around us. Our path would take us along that lonely stretch of beach out to the mouth of the little creek that lies to the southwest. It's mostly.a walk on small stones and pebbles. People often wonder how these stones gather on some beaches and not others. The theory is that through periods of time the sand with its gravel continues to move along the beach, leaving the heavier stones and pebbles behind. Cedar Beach is a perfect example of this stony beach phenomenon. It was one of those perfect days when there wasn't a breath of air and the water was like a mirror. Ducks could easily be seen on the glassy sur- face of the bay. Every once in a while they'd disappear as they dove below, seeking out crustaceans and little fish that would see them through the cold Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh if you see a large, dark soaring bird It usually is one of two birds, an eagle or a vulture. Both are uncommon visitors but not impossible sightings. Here we see a vulture soaring. of winter. There were the buffleheads, the scoters, the red- breast- ed mergansers and an occasional pair of black ducks. All were magni- fied on the mirrored water before us. The only motion we could see was )w, drifting chunks of ice that had •oken away from up bay and were )w moving out to sea. On some of �ese miniature icebergs seagulls )uld be seen resting as the chunks of e quietly moved by. Outside of then hantom -like ice floes, the world was Halfway down the beach Barbara's es caught the flight of a small bird ling up in front of us. It landed over back of the dune. It was white in Lyht. a snow bunting, one of those lovely winter birds from the north tha can usually be found on windswept beaches and open fields. It had eviL dently left the flock to do some exploi ing on its own. We then walked over to the top of the dune where a small flock of these snowbirds flew up, twit- tering away as they bounced along in the air, a true sign of our winter beach We continued along to where the terns nest on the beach and were sorry to see how the area was riddled with tire tracks of vehicles. Isn't there a place in this world where they are not allowed? To me, the whole beach loses some of its charm when tire tracks are found. I remember pho- tographing a piping plover chick, an endangered species, in one of the tire tracks years ago. Loss of nesting sites is the main reason for this tiny plover's decline. .On our way back the sun was low on the horizon and it gave the marsh wintry glow. It was one of those red - ball sunsets that it you look at it when it reaches the horizon, it literally blinds you. As we walked the shore we came to some large cut stones that had been placed there probably 50 or 60 years ago when fishermen used the area to haul fishing seines off this beach. What stories those out -of- place, for- lorn stones could tell on this stark winter beach. We could also see about 10 feet off- shore the dark -brown edge of an ancient bog. A bog is the root system of a marshland and it showed how the area had eroded to the north. Once The only motion we could see was slow, drifting chunks of ice. the marsh was offshore, but it has been overrun through time by moving sand. Today if you fol- low this beach long enough it will swing northward along the shore of Paradise Point and run out to a sand strip that all boaters know and stay clear of. This is the endless process of erosion and lit- toral drift, a natural phenomenon that man tries in vain to control. We came back to our car in the big parking lot and found another couple taking advantage of this rare winter day. It was one of those changing times of winter when it can either be howling gales with frigid temperatures or periods of mild, calm weather. And that's just what is happening now as I write and look out at the lawn and pasture beyond. We didn't rake the leaves up in the fall. For some reason they just got left behind and became matted down with the periods of snow and rain through the winter. Then we had an abrupt change in tem- perature, with gusts of wind from 30 to 50 mph. What a contrast. One day almost springlike weather and then the Arctic cold of winter, blowing in from the northwest. It had exposed the flat- tened, water - soaked leaves to the rush- ing winds of the North, Each leaf tried to free itself from its captive wetness, and as the leaves dried and curled, the wind picked them up and blew them like scurrying soldiers across the lawn. Whole battal- ions would race at one time, then set- tle and wait for the next big push to freedom. Time and time again they'd rush across the lawn, only to wait for reinforcements. They all headed for our woods just a short distance away. It was the same story all day long: a gust of wind, then one or two leaves would start to move, and again the whole battalion would take off and race across the lawn to the woods, where they'd settle down. There was no end to new recruits all winding up in the woods, where they would some- day become part of the duff that nour- ishes the trees and shrubs and plants. It was an interesting day with the wind howling in the trees, the cows out in the pasture gaining shelter behind the pines and watching the whirling leaves cross the lawn. As we watched, a huge-black bird, with wings six feet across, veered and twisted as it worked its way into the strong northwest wind. It was a turkey vulture, a rare visitor to our island that somehow had cho- sen to pass by in front of me. I had a good look at it as it traveled a mere 30 feet above the back pasture. This is the same bird you see as you travel south, always soaring high above in great circles, hardly moving its wings. We have two vultures, the black vul- ture, which is much rarer to see here, and the turkey vulture that occasional- ly swings over our island. Vultures are scavengers in the sense that they don't attack and kill their prey, but wait for carrion to feast on. It could be a dead deer or rabbit or some roadkill. That's what they search or while soaring above. We're told they locate their food by sight and by smell. This one was having a hard time working its way against the wind. There's much to see on a wintry day. It might be snowbirds on a lonely beach or blowing leaves that scurry across the lawn or the sighting of a vul- ture working its way through the gales of winter. All make up winter's day.