The Hunters

Today was one of those cold dreary days. The type that tell you know that even though the calendar says March, winter says it's not dead yet. It was cold and grey. It looked like snow, felt like snow, and occasionally the odd snow flake flew by; but that was just a reminder of the season.

The refuge was quiet. The stillness only broken by the distant drumming of woodpeckers and the occasional roar of a departing jet. Today was a day that belonged to the hunters.

On my way across the Dike Trail, in the distance I spied a coyote. He was diligently checking the muskrat lodges and scanning the reeds looking for his next meal as he strode across the frozen impoundment. Maybe his fur was puffed up to help keep him warm against the cold, but then again maybe he has been eating well this winter.

Further across the Dike I caught up with a band on intrepid birders, hunting for birds to count. It seems that birds had more sense than humans this dreary day than humans. One species of bird seemed oblivious to the cold, the ubiquitous Down Woodpecker.

Having completed our lap of the lower impoundment we returned via the railroad bed to the warming shack (the restrooms). We were thankful that the heat is left on the ensure the pipes don't freeze. Even at their lower than normal temperature, the bit of trapped warmth, provided a pleasant respite.

Warmed and standing outside the building, we were entertained as our last hunter stepped on stage. A large Cooper's Hawk flew alongside the building and settled on a branch over the trail to the parking lot. It didn't seem to mind us much, but was constantly scanning looking for its next meal.


After watching it close up from the rear, I wondered if it would sit still long enough to allow me to circle around to the parking lot side and take some photos from the front. It did, all the while scanning the surroundings. I had just got into position to take a few photos from the front, when a noise caught its attention from up the railroad bed; in a flash it was gone.

Shortly there after, so were we.

Had Enough?

With the two to three times a week snow storms ranging from feet of light fluffy snow to several inches of frozen rain / sleet / wet snow mix the question that New Englanders are asking each other is, "Have you had enough winter yet?".

Personally, I'm rolling with the punches. When it's nice I've gone in search of the visiting Snowy Owls. When it snows, I stay in and clean up the backlog of photos from the summer waiting to be processed. (You can't underestimate what an afternoon spent with photos of Piping Plovers, Loons, or Tree Swallows in beautiful sunlight will do to improve your disposition.)

Unfortunately, that means that I have been ignoring Great Meadows. While it can be interesting in the winter, I must admit visiting is a bit more work in the winter, than it is on a warm summer's morning.

At first glance you might think that the refuge is closed for the season, since many of the sights are buried in snow.





But the morning after the overnight snow has a certain beauty while the trees are still frosted with snow. (Just don't be standing under neath one as the snow starts to melt.)






Great Meadows version of moguls in support of our winter olympians


With so much snow it's packed everywhere

But as you start to walk around you will see evidence of wildlife everywhere.

The stealthy tracks of the coyote. (Do you notice they rarely walk in a straight line?)


Like old time Yankees, the woodpeckers aren't bothered by a little snow and cold

You'll find lots of "feeder birds" - Chickadees, Tufted Titmouse, Nuthatches and your occasional Goldfinches in their drag brown winter wear. But occassionally you'll run into something special like this Golden-crowned Kinglet that will bring a smile to your wind-chapped lips. It's bright yellow/orange cap brings a bit of color to the otherwise desaturated winter landscape.




So we persist and carry-on. We know that February is almost over. Winter may have a few more punches. While they may hurt, the pain won't last. Soon the migratory birds will be returning. While they are enjoying their warm environs and contemplate the long journey to their summer homes, you have to know that the snowbirds are wondering if this is what they are returning to.

Note: You can always click on any of the images to see this post's album of large size images.

November means Waterfowl

Wow, it's been over a month since my last post. Sorry for the long gap. First there was the government shutdown, then a long trip to visit our daughter in Atlanta, sandwich around that all those typical autumn activities, combined with the daily activities of life and Poof before you know it a month has gone.

For photographers November is not a kind month. The beautiful flowers and greenery of summer, have morphed into the radiant colors of autumn, but now those leaves lie at our feet dull and brown. One of my friends calls this sticks & twigs season.

At Great Meadows all is not lost. The impoundments are flooded. The cat tails are dying back and dropping over, letting us see areas that have been hidden much of the summer. Many birds have migrated giving the waterfowl an opportunity to entertain us.

Each morning we are entertained by the Canada Geese who depart to forage, but return later in the morning to cruise the impoundments. The mornings are cold & brisk, with both the people and birds trying to stay warm. I enjoy watching the geese fly. Given their large size they don't look air worthy, but once aloft do demonstrate a certain gracefulness. When they return landing crosses that gracefulness with the abruptness of an uncontrolled crash.

Another star species of the month are the ducks. The mallards dominate. If we lived anywhere else where they weren't so plentiful we would wax poetically about how beautiful they are. Instead they take a back seat behind the Wood Ducks, Teals and other less common visitors who have stopped by.

A female Northern Shoveler was swimming in circles in the Upper Impoundment, near the river side. It was feeding. Its oldly shped beak is well suited to the task. You must admit it looks a little like a bird designed by a committee.

At this time of year even the swans are welcomed back. Though it with mixed emotions that we greet the darker juveniles.