Happenings on an Island

9/9/13    Last night was cold with northwest winds. And it's apparent today - many of our sparrows (Savannah Sparrows are the study species I'm working with) are not around and there is a huge number of migrant song birds on the island. It's amazing to watch how active they are. Not a second is wasted where they are not flitting about looking for insects. They move through the trees in waves. All sticking in their small groups, but all foraging in their own way and part of the tree. 

      It's incredible pulling these little birds out of the mist nets. Feeling how small they are in hand just increases my amazement at their long-distance feats. 

9/16/13    I got to go on a whale watch to help Russell, the island caretaker, with the passengers and whale and bird finding. Several small (tiny really), things made me smile on the trip. While out in the middle of the Bay of Fundy, between Grand Manan and Nova Scotia, I saw a single warbler fly by the boat, look at it as though it might land, and then carry on its journey. I also watched two hummingbirds flying past, zooming around each other. The moment I really enjoyed was when, 6 miles from the nearest land, the boat was stopped and a young humpback whale was showing off beside the boat. As this was happening, I noticed a small, dark moth fluttering by from the open ocean. Here was one of the largest animals on the planet, amazing in its sheer size. And here in the same place, was a tiny insect flying miles above open water.

9/18/13    I just returned from walking to the dock. The sun had long been down, but the light on the west horizon has only just faded. And the light coming up in the east from the full moon is stupendous. Walking outside feels like it's daytime. I stood for a while in the lawn to just wonder at the lighting and the place I'm in. Moon light reflecting across the ocean in a wide swath to the east. The last of the sunlight disappearing making the sky magical colors against the dark ocean to the east. A crisp dark line of sky and water passing behind the moon-lit, open southern tip of the island. A dark tree line to the north. 

This place is magical. And the droves of migrants passing through this time of year make it exciting too. A small list of some recent sightings, and some captures in the mist nets: 10+ warbler species, Chimney Swift, Whimbrel, Northern Harrier, Yellowlegs, many Peregrines and Merlins, Bobolinks, Kinglets, Vireos, Hummingbirds galore, Flycatchers, Baltimore Oriole, Sora, Yellow-Headed Blackbird, Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher, endless Flickers, Plovers and Sandpipers, Black-backed Woodpecker, Rose-Breasted Grosbeak... Every day holds a new bird, watching a new behavior, finding something cool in the nets.

Fall on an island - what an amazing place and time. 

An Important Issue and A Great Movie

Promised Land is a movie worth watching. The issue of fracking is one I have thought about and discussed with people, but after seeing this movie, I feel a strong need to really do my research and understand this issue. I like this movie so much because it really made me think hard about fracking (and because I liked the story line).

Matt Damon's character says that if people are against fracking for natural gas, then they are "for coal and oil". And then he mentions the alternative of "cutting consumption", a "conversation" he says nobody wants to have. The conversation of reducing consumption is exactly the one everyone needs to be having.

Definitely a movie worth watching and a part of larger energy issue worth thinking about. 

 

Warbler Heaven

With spring’s arrival, I have been on the lookout for migrating birds. Yesterday while biking, I heard 10s of Black-Throated Green Warblers on a several mile section of road. Hearing them got me excited about the warblers being here, so today I set out to do some exploring. After walking along the road with little success, I noticed what looked like an opening in the woods behind my apartment. I headed off with my binoculars, bird book, and my boots on. After going through a narrow band of poplar and balsam fir, things opened up into a large alder swamp with patches of spruce, fir, and tamarack all through it. Then I noticed the sounds. Excitedly, I moved a little ways into the swamp. Around me were tons of warblers, all singing, feeding, and exploring. It was like nothing I have ever seen before. Within an hour of just staying in one area, I had seen seven different warbler species, chickadees, sparrows, and heard kinglets. After several more hours of exploring and watching these amazing birds, I came up with a quite impressive list of birds:

Warblers: Tennessee, Northern Parula, Magnolia, Black-Throated Blue, Yellow-Rumped, Black-Throated Green, Blackburnian, Black-and-White, Blackpoll, American Redstart, Common Yellowthroat

Other songbirds: Golden Crowned Kinglet, Tree Sparrow, White Throated Sparrow, Black-Capped Chickadee

It was so amazing watching these birds. Despite all being there together, the warblers all seemed to have a certain method and location for finding their food – some climbed around close to the trunk of the larger trees, some stayed at the ends of the

conifer branches, others worked exclusively in the alders. The Northern Parulas really caught my attention as they picked at the flowering and budding ends of the alders, seeming to find many insects there. Two different warblers seemed curious about my presence – a Black-Throated Green and an American Redstart. Both came close enough that I could see all of their beautiful markings clearly without binoculars. I watched this Black-Throated Blue for an hour as he caught insects in the alders along this pond.

This was an afternoon to remember, and a place I know I will continue to explore through the summer in the hopes of seeing these birds more.

We Walk the Plank with Our Eyes Wide Open, And I Asked When Is a Revolution?

Music is powerful, with the ability to change emotions, popularize ideas and messages, and energize. There are tons of songs that have a strong effect on me and on many different levels - some make me want to run and be active while some make me feel quiet and contemplative. I really appreciate hearing songs that provoke me to really think about the environment and our place in it. Here are a few of my favorites:

Eyes Wide Open - Gotye
Spring Wind - Jack Johnson
Down to Earth - Peter Gabriel

There are also plenty of classic songs with similar messages ("Big Yellow Taxi" - Joni Mitchell, "Where Do the Children Play" - Cat Stevens). These songs are both from the 1970s, and aren't the first environmental songs, yet the message hasn't gotten across to people yet.

Here are several more songs that make me think, be it about the environment, consumerism, social issues, peace and war, or activism:

"Sell It To You" - Bronze Radio Return
"Sound of Silence" - Simon and Garfunkel
"The Poisonjester's Mask" - Solas
"I Asked When" - Brett Dennen

Gray Jays

Gray Jays are amazing birds – smart, friendly, and curious. I have had the privilege of working on a long-term study of them over the past month and the coming few weeks. The study has been possible because of Dan Strickland who has been color banding the birds and finding their nests for 40 years here in Algoqnuin Provincial Park. There are about 25 territories that are monitored each year along the only road through the park, though this number used to be much higher.

These birds are especially amazing because they nest during this time of year, while the weather here is still consistently below freezing, and large snowfalls are not uncommon. Anytime from late February through early April, Gray Jay pairs will begin building their nest against the trunks of balsam fir or spruce trees. Their relatively large nests are lined well with cotton (provided by us researchers when trying to find their nests), feathers, lichen, grass, and other soft materials to insulate them well. They are well protected from snow and rain by the above branches. Sometime in March or April, the females gain half again their normal weight and lay a clutch of 3-5 eggs. After all the eggs are laid (one per day), she will start incubating. She will sit on the nest for twenty days, with occasional very short breaks for food. She will remain on the nest through snowstorms and very cold nights. When clutches finally hatch, it will still be months before most birds begin nesting, and even before many migratory birds have returned to the northern forests.

The secret to these birds success lays in their food storage abilities. Gray Jays compulsively cache food, and remember the locations of their caches, so they have food available year round. It is believed they nest during the late winter/ early spring to enable them the most time to cache food for the coming winter. By finishing nesting in April or May, they are able to spend the entire summer and fall collecting and storing food.

This technique, however, seems to rely on the presence of conifers, especially that of black spruce. In his years of observation, Dan Strickland has witnessed a trend of increasingly hardwood-dominated forests in the park, and a correlated decline in Gray Jay territories where conifers have declined the most. This type of forest change has been observed and predicted as a result of our changing climate. Another pattern has been that of warmer, and more fluctuating, fall and winter temperatures. This change is hypothesized to cause more of the Gray Jay’s food to rot, meaning they have less to support nesting. That such a hearty species as the Gray Jay has been so significantly affected in the past 30 years is very alarming. Many species likely have similar direct ties to the composition of the forests in which they live and the temperature patterns, and global changes to our climate that alter these affect them directly.

Gray Jays are not about to go extinct because of these changes, but these birds will start disappearing from the southern limits of their range. Known by many names – Canadian Jay, Whiskey Jack, Camp Robber – these birds are well known in the northern woods. It’s important to recognize their potentially fragile place in our ecosystem, no matter how steadfast their presence may seem.

Low Impact and Comfortable

Recently I have really started to appreciate how easy it is to live a low impact lifestyle comfortably. I recently took a NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School) course doing winter camping and backcountry skiing in Idaho and I am now living in a cabin in Algonquin Park in Ontario that does not have running water. Prior to these two experiences, I didn’t expect winter camping or living anywhere without running water to be something I could do comfortably. I’ve happily found that I can be very comfortable in both situations.

Winter camping is a lot of work, but can be really fun and one’s impact is minimal. All of the water we drank and used to cook on the course was melted from snow. Because of the amount of work that went into making water, we all learned to use it sparingly (even keeping pasta water to drink, though only with the addition of cocoa or lemonade mix). We discussed some of the advantages of the backcountry lifestyle on the course, and what really struck me was the difference in water use from the front country. The statistic we learned was a person uses 40 gallons of water per day in the front country and 1.8 in the backcountry. This difference is astounding, but very believable.

The cabin in which I am now living in Algonquin Park has electricity, but lacks running water. I have come to really enjoy not having running water, because it keeps me thinking about water use all the time. Five-gallon jugs filled nearby serve our water needs, and make water use easy to control. In order to get a sense of my water use here, I watch how long it takes to use one five-gallon jug. Using this measure, I have been using about two gallons of water per day. This water is used for dishes, cooking, and drinking (not for my infrequent showers). I was most shocked by this level of water use when I recently used a real bathroom (instead of the outhouse in the woods behind the cabin). A water efficient toilet uses one gallon per flush. That’s half my current daily water use in one flush!

I don't think everyone should, or would enjoy, or has the means to start living in cabins without running water, but I think it is in everyone's power to think about all of the things they live with and consider a necessity, and ask themselves what things really are. 

A Night Sky

There are times when I become completely trapped in mind – most often this happens when I start missing some time gone by. This evening I had a strong case of this (compounded by finishing a good book) so took to my normal solution – a walk. I put on my iPod with some favorite slower songs, bundled up, and walked to a nearby bridge/dam. Standing above the rushing water, I looked out across a frozen lake at the moon inching towards the trees. I sang the songs I was listening to, I thought about times past, I continued to feel a little sad. After the cold started to seep in through my layers, I stepped back onto the road and looked up at the stars. I slowly circled in place and could see the full sky. And as I circled, I stopped thinking about anything else, and just felt awed by the stars. By my comparative smallness, by the earth’s comparative smallness. And I felt happy because I was part of this giant system. (written 3/14/13)

Winter

I am in love with the outdoors. The feeling of standing with snow below you, blue sky above, the sun in your face, and wind and birds in your ears is easiest to describe with the feeling of strong love. It’s overwhelming, inspiring, and completely uplifting.

The past several months, I have spent a lot of time outdoors observing and exploring the activities of the woods in the winter. A short walk through the woods can be completely silent, but the fresh snow tells so much. Deer bedded here last night, the turkeys found more leaves to scratch to, the fox was about again, a mink has been exploring the stream, a pack of coyotes travelled through, a mouse scurried from one log home to another, the squirrels are still running everywhere. And occasionally you get to catch a glimpse of another creature sharing the forest with you at that moment. A deer scared by your footsteps in the crunchy snow running along the top of the next ridge, a blue jay calling your arrival, an owl swooping away from his pre-dawn branch above the road, a chickadee puffed up to an absurd size to hide from the wind. It is a time of year when everything in the woods looks clean, but every activity is documented for all to see.

 

There are always signs that it is not always winter here. Chickadees seemingly confused on a warm day calling ‘see-me’, an old nest covered in the recent snow still sitting in its Hawthorne tree, the buds of next year’s leaves already present.

It’s a lot of work to walk in the woods this time of year, but it may be my favorite time to explore places I know, because everything changes, and there is a new story in the snow each day.