Category Archives: In the neighborhood

Useless bird photography tips

Tip #1: If you find yourself lacking in either good equipment, skill or interesting and flamboyant birds to photograph, it always helps to take pics of birds in places one isn’t used to seeing them. This will make up for your lack of skill, somewhat. Maybe. Probably not.

Example #1: Robins belong on grassy lawns or in muddy nests, not sandy beaches. The odd habitat distracts the viewer from the less than stellar exposure and the soft focus from your long lens that is sooo darn slow.

Example #2: Eastern towhees should be skulking on the ground in leaf-strewn forests or scratching around beneath blooming beach plum bushes or in poison ivy tangles. They are almost never seen perched in trees. This from-below view is interesting for its novelty and may keep the viewer from noticing the poor composition and soft focus of your photo.

Coming soon: Tips for taking pics of any bird that sits still long enough!

Position available

Wildflower Enthusiast:
There is a temporary need for a part-time wildflower instructor willing to traipse around in the woods and point out and identify pretty flowers. Availability primarily on weekends and late afternoons during the Spring season. May also be needed for summer day trips to the NJ Pine Barrens.

Must be able to discern weeds from wildflowers and recognize garden escapees. Infinite patience with the beginner is desirable. Resistance to poison ivy helpful. Must not be deterred by wet feet, muddy knees or mosquitos. Love of rock-eating black labs might prove useful, as would a good sense of humor.

There is no salary; good company is the only thing on offer. Possibility of barter is negotiable. To trade: above-average knowledge of birdsong, organic homemade rabbit fertilizer (by the ton), best local pizza, free-range mixed baby koi/goldfish, familiarity with essential inferior poetry.

To apply, simply state the name of the flower pictured herewith. Serious inquiries only, please.

Bayside

Today was the type of Spring day I wait for… perfectly warm, a Friday, payday… and a chance to sneak off work early and hit the beach for a couple hours…


Because it’s nesting season for beach birds, Luka could only run on the bay side of Sandy Hook, but run he did! He swam some, too, and came across a couple mating horseshoe crabs floating in the flooded marsh. I guess this is the first full moon of the spring and the tide was very high, and well, the horseshoe crabs were doing their thing. Nice to see. I don’t know what it is about dogs and horseshoe crabs, but Luka barked and growled and was afraid like every other dog I’ve ever had.


He was in his element there, in the marsh, tasting the prickly pear cactus and chewing sticks after I tossed them into the water for him. He really wants to be a bird dog, I think, and he certainly looks the part, finally, when he’s in the water.


I had to hold him by the collar for a pic of us two… he was sopping wet at this point and had just run off with two complete strangers… such a friendly dog; I think he’d wander along with anyone so long as it looked like they were about to do something fun.


Speaking of fun… a girl after my own heart… searching a tidal pool for hermit crabs. Look at those wellies! She was careful to warn me not to be fooled by snails.


One of my favorite sunset views… the osprey platform in the far distance is occupied, as is usual, but the residents went off fishing soon after I arrived. Some brant are still around, but the calls of oystercatchers have replaced those of oldsquaw echoing across the bay. I found towhees in the holly forest, but no willets overhead, yet. It’s not properly Spring without the call of the willet.

I fell in love today…

Anything else like this wouldn’t ordinarily garner a second glance from me… yellow… not my type. Not my type at all.

But there was something to this yellow that caused me to turn my head and then captured me. A clear pure yellow on dainty pointed petals that completely stole my heart.

The shape to the leaves called to mind something familiar, some other love that I might’ve already met. Tumbling down a little hillside of dappled sun as it was, I was smitten, but can’t come up with a name. Anyone know this handsome little flower?

Meet the new neighbors

I’m using the word ‘neighbor’ very broadly, of course, but these two eaglets set a state record, so I’m allowed to be proud! Their nest is very easily viewed and is conveniently located at one of the nicest county parks in my area.

This nest is one of 3 or 4 in my county; another is within a mile or two of home, but the exact location of that nest is a well-guarded secret. I don’t have bald eagle on my yard list, yet, but someday soon I’m sure I will.

Photo from the Asbury Park Press. Full story available here.

Overheard at the bird observatory

An egg story to rival Delia’s:

“Hello? Is this the Audubon?”

You can assume this means trouble at 10 am on a Sunday morning.

“We had a bunch of dead trees cut down in our yard…”

Uh oh. Why don’t people know enough to do this in the Fall?

“and my husband was cleaning up the stump grindings and found this egg…”

Oh dear.

“buried about four inches down in the dirt.”

Huh?

“It’s huge! And I know it’s an owl egg because my neighbor is one of those people that’s into all that nature stuff and she looked it up on the Internet and she says that owls burrow down, you know, to make their nests and…”

The bird observatory is located in NJ. The person was calling from NJ.

“and the egg must weigh at least a pound and I think it’s still alive so I put it in a basket..”

Wasn’t Easter a couple weeks ago already?

“and filled the basket up with dirt and buried the egg again and it’s been out on my deck for the last couple days..”

In the sun, I hope.

“and I’m not sure what I should do because I think it’s alive and it’s so heavy and could I bring it to you and you’ll tell me what it is and maybe take care of it or whatever?”

Sure… bring it on over. We’ll sit on it and hatch it for you.

————————————————————————————————–

How do you think I handled this particular phone call? With patience? Did I cackle in this woman’s ear or take the rare opportunity to educate?

No. I asked her if she was certain it wasn’t just a really big rock.

Or a dinosaur egg, maybe.

Woodland stirrings…

I made it back this week to the woods and the little brook to see the beginnings of Spring emerging…
There were just a few Spring Beauties blooming, hidden among the more vigorous periwinkle. The miracle here is in the beginning… the budding that is happening everywhere in the woods. The willows are impatient, as are the swamp maples with their reddish haze; both reaching from their winter nakedness to the early sunlight for encouragement.

Flecks of gold from an early trout lily nestled in the fallen leaves of winter. Here is beauty perfected… ephemeral yet timeless in its allure. No sooner will they bloom and they’ll begin to fade, a part of the process and wonder of the season.

Squill was the flower of the moment this day and the early bees were paying attention to its carpet of offerings, however slight their nectar. My father always claimed Spring as his favorite season and as much as I love the Fall, I’m seeing now how we need Spring, or our hearts need the Spring and the chance to participate with time and sunshine; to be a part of that partnership.

The photographer’s assistant was most interested in partnering with the forest faeries to cast shade where it wasn’t wanted, or to set his rear on the prettiest patches of Squill to compete with their handsomeness, or to sample the edibility of fresh Skunk Cabbage leaves… (“Ick”, says Luka.)

Spring. Have you tasted it yet?

😉

The warriors return

They left in the autumn of the year, a great army of legend. Flags flashed rusty red and steel grey, barred and banded. Old veterans did heed the call once again, their ranks, as with all armies, swollen with so many young. By battalions they paraded across the countryside and coastline, leaving summer behind to seek their fortunes elsewhere.

Their passage was witnessed by countless numbers at Cape May or Hawk Mountain. The thrill of the parade tempered only by thoughts of how many might never return. Then they were gone. Yes… some stayed behind; a rear guard to watch the homefront. Others, Northern Warriors, on their own epic passage, filled the void left by the other’s passing. Even with these, the world seemed barren, without magic or myth.

Through the long winter how often our thoughts have drifted to how the warriors are fairing. Have they found solace in lands more plentiful? Were their enemies too strong? How many will return well or battle-scarred or not at all?

Now the first breaths of spring stir the air. Though the land still sleeps, the promise is heard in whispers… changes so subtle as to go unnoticed. The distant regiments hear those whispers. It is time once again to reclaim their birthright, their territory, their home.

Those who would witness their return climb to the mountaintops (or find a local spot close to home!) and wonder at the adventures they have known. Look to the skies and cheer the battalions on their return. Look to the skies… the hawks are returning!

The Sandy Hook Migration Watch started March 15th! Red-shoulders are moving – I’ve even seen a few! There’ll be Broad-wings! Come! Bring cookies for the counter!

(Or me.)

😉

Posted: Invisible birds afoot

The perfect cure for cabin fever yesterday morning was the chance to be out in the sunshine while doing some manual labor to help protect nesting habitat for endangered Piping Plovers and Least Terns at Sandy Hook. A small group of volunteers showed up early in the cold to install symbolic fencing around critical nesting areas in the dunes at Gunnison and North Beach.

Sandy Hook hosts one third of New Jersey’s nesting population of Piping Plovers, but nest success has been quite variable in the last few years; the main challenges having been nest predation by red foxes, flooding and human disturbance.

It’s human disturbance that the fencing seeks to control. We installed flagged string line and signage every 50 feet along the dunes – hundreds of feet of string tied with little orange flags. My job was to count out the 50 ft. distance between signs, while those with more nimble fingers tied the string and the flags. We were a pretty small group, but got lots done thanks to the use of an auger to dig the holes for the posts; in years past every hole was done with a post-hole digger. What a recipe for sore shoulders! I think Sandy Hook has 8 protected nesting areas for plovers and terns; we completed only 3 of the 8, but other groups and the park rangers are responsible for the others.

The fencing is an attempt to keep people out of the high dunes where the plovers build their nests – people with coolers on their way to the water, people with dogs, people flying kites – any of those things could cause a nest to be abandoned or crushed underfoot.

Later in the season, around Memorial Day when the chicks are hatching, volunteers will *guard* the intertidal zone which will also then be closed to the public. The plovers and their newly hatched chicks use the intertidal zone to feed and if there’s too much activity by beachgoers the plovers can be stepped on or starve. I’ve volunteered this year to be a warden on weekends and to monitor the edge of the closed area from a beach chair – to keep people out of the intertidal zone during that critical time – and to try and educate beachgoers about why the area is closed off and why the plovers and terns are worth their losing access to the beach. You might not think it, but people get pretty pissed off about losing access to the beach. A friend of mine who’s been a warden for a number of years has often been given a hard time by people and even had her tires slashed. Can you imagine being that angry at someone who’s just trying to do a good thing for birds?

I didn’t spot any plovers yesterday, but they are back. Ospreys are due in this week. Spring at the shore and its birds are coming! I’m not sure when it’ll hit me, but one day soon I’ll have to sneak away from the office to greet it at Sandy Hook. Have a look here at last year’s spring fever post – also there is a link to one of my favorite pics of piping plover chicks – aren’t they adorable? Who wouldn’t want to spend weekends getting a tan to protect them?

And please, take a minute to read Julie Zickefoose’s essay
Offseasons which she mentioned in the comments on last year’s post. It’s a beautifully-written and touching essay and part of what made me decide to actually do something this year for these birds that I treasure so much, rather than just sitting back and complaining that not enough is being done, as I did last year. Thanks for the kick in the butt… I mean… the inspiration, Julie!

I’m including this last pic mostly for Susan, but also to mention that the nude beach at Gunnison is one of the larger areas where plovers choose to nest. Not sure that I’d want to be assigned to be a warden there, but at the very least I’d have plenty of reasons (old wrinkled ones) to get some long overdue reading done this summer!

😉

The story behind the pic

I met this handsome Lab last weekend at Sandy Hook. He/she looked much like any other Lab out for a walk on a sunny day: friendly, goofy, a bit bored with the lack of any cookies or tennis balls to chase…

but then the Lab was suddenly transformed into the great hunter and regal protector after finally (!) spotting…

the sly fox hiding in the ramparts…

😉

These two stared at each other for a bit, the Lab whining some and wanting to give chase. I learned an important lesson; if there are no cookies to grab the dog’s eye, a small furry creature like a fox (or a squirrel) will do to get *that* look on the face of a Lab.