You Can't Judge A Day By Its Weather

I woke up early, hoping that the warm weather combined with the icy impoundments would yield stunning images of fog and mist playing amongst the reeds and trees.  Alas, the conditions didn't cooperate.  Since I was here, it was worth seeing what had changed.

I was glad that I had wore my L.L.Bean duck shoes.  Much of the path is now muddy gravel.  There aren't too many washouts, but enough to keep Alan and his volunteers busy for a couple days.  Today, I appreciated the irony that the part of the path which used to be the good footing of packed snow, is now the treacherous footing of packed ice with a coat of water.  There was an unusual quiet in the air, until I realized I was no longer hearing the crunching of snow and ice underfoot.

The good news is that though the Concord River has risen, it still has not overflowed into the impoundments.  The bad news is that in most places it only has 1-2 feet to rise before it will. All of the outflows are now inflows as the higher level of the river is forcing water back into the refuge.

There are signs of the flooding everywhere along the river.  All the trees are immersed.  One of the benches that previously was buried in snow, was partially submerged.  Down by the boat ramp, you could watch as large pieces of ice would periodically go racing by.





Down by the beaver lodge, they were busily huddled on their roof.  They sounded the alarm when I first arrived, but then got used to my company.  Most their time was spent grooming and lounging on the top of their lodge.  This went on until very late in the morning.  I wondered if they didn't feel comfortable inside their lodge due to the flooding, so much like human flood victims, they were clinging to the roof of their house.  Or just maybe, cold, windy, wet weather is a beaver's idea of a great day.







The wildlife that was visible was a mixture of old friends and new friends.  A coyote was seen wandering around the upper impoundment.  Several crows were seen scavenging the remains of a muskrat lodge.  (I can only assume the coyote visited it first.)  Red-winged Blackbirds were calling.  Several gulls were flying about looking for openings in the water.  Unfortunately, as I was departing two mute swans arrived.  I hope that they know that Massachusetts has strict anti-bullying laws and their behavior is not welcome here.

One Of Those Days

At lunchtime, I drove up to NH to buy a kayak from a person on Craigslist.  Unfortunately, someone stole it out the back of his pickup truck during the morning.  Seeking some solace, I wandered over to Great Meadows.

It was cold and a little windy, but the sunshine helped keep you warm.  I ran into another photographer and we had a wonderful talk walking around the lower impoundment.  That's because few animals were out and about.  The river is still open, most of the other open water had started to freeze over again after the last couple cold days.

The photography continued in the theme of the day.  I stopped to watch some Black-capped Chickadees.  I've got some good shots of them earlier this winter, so I patient waited hoping they would work toward sunny branches closer to me.  You guessed it, the kept moving back before flying away.  This is the best shot I got, I just wish the bird was in focus.

Near the outflow from the lower impoundment there is an interesting gnarled tree.  I tried my attempt at capture an image of it, in the afternoon light.   Right now, I couldn't find the right angle - the background is just too busy to get the necessary separation.  I scanned all the holes in the trees, snags and stumps - but as you would guess whether new or old, nothing was hanging around.

Returning back, I stopped by the beaver lodge.  They were a bit active.  However, it's challenging to capture a good shot, due to the various branches.   With all the pruning US F&WS did last fall, it's too bad they didn't do here.   Of course the beavers are of much help either.  After all why did I have to watch one swim across the river with a freshly chewed branch.  There are a few that I wish he would chew right near his home.  (If he did, I would be willing to provide him & his spouse a lovely framed family photo they could hang in the lodge.)







At darkness started to fall, I heard a coyote howling.  It was a little too loud & a little too close for comfort, but it did sound like it was across the river.  I wasn't going to stick around to learn either how well he swam, how far down stream he had to walk to cross over to my side.  (I know down by Route 225, the Concord is still frozen across.)  I took some comfort that my tripod could always be used as a weapon...Just need to remember to take the camera off.

The river started to become a hub of avian activity as ducks and geese started to arrive to spend the night in the open water.  Of course, even with flash it would be too dark to photograph them now.  What little light was left was reflecting off the white snow; but you had to step carefully to not twist your ankle in one of the many frozen holes.

Even the sunset conspired to join my so-so day.  The colors were nice.  Some high thin clouds were starting to form.  If they had only started to form about 90 minutes earlier, the photos would be to die for.  But that's why you have to come often - you never know if this is going to be the day of the killer shot, or the day where it's hardly worth your while to upload the card from your camera.  Today was smack dab, in the middle.

Nice At Dusk Too

I tend to come to Great Meadows in the morning.  I guess, I like the quiet and watching the day awake.   Enticed by the photographic birds at our home feeder, frolicking in the afternoon light, I headed to GMNWR to see what was going on.  Amy was pleased to give me a pass to go shoot, since she wouldn't have to cook dinner.  Little did she know I planning on chasing beaver.

Since this was a last minute idea, I arrived a bit late.  I quickly hustled out towards the beaver lodge.  About half way there, I realized I left my camera bag in the car, but I did have the camera!  Tough decision - head back, but probably miss all the light before the sun starts to set, or make do with what I had.  So with only my 70-300mm lens, I pressed on.  What I was really going to miss was my flash.

The day had warmed up nicely.  Several people were walking or skiing, but I liked this person sitting on the observation deck, in quiet contemplation.  Unfortunately, I still had to press on.  The water level in the river has started to rise.  There were some Mergansers swimming in the river, visible through the trees.  I stopped for a moment, near a clearing hopping they would float by.  It was not to be.  Stepping in what I thought was deep snow, I started to feel water come in over the top of my boot.  I had to get moving, before I got too cold & had to head back to the car.


Slowly approaching the beaver lodge, he saw me, before I saw him.  With a quick tail slap, he sounded the alarm and two beavers disappeared under water.  Knowing that they were there, gave me the patience to get into position and quietly wait.  After about 15 minutes the beaver, started to come out.  He would occasionally see me an either move on, or slap his tail.

For about 45 minutes, I watched the beaver swim to and fro.  When he disappeared, several bluebirds came by to entertain me.  During this whole time there was a Mourning Dove chorus serenading me form the far bank of the river.





Photographing the beaver was challenging photographically.  The beaver would remain near the lodge briefly, which would allow you to get clear shots...but the scene was dark.  This is where I would miss the flash left in the car.  When the beaver swam across the river, to sit and eat on the ice, the light was beautiful; unfortunately, the undergrowth was tangled.  You could only try to find a hole in the branches to shoot through to the other side.  Later in the year, there would be dry ground you could stand on, but now it was soft ice & deep frigid water.









When the "good light" disappeared, it was time to begin the trek back to the car.  Most everyone has already left, the refuge was getting quiet and peaceful.  Approaching the boat ramp, I recognized the call of an old friend that we haven't see for a while.  Yes, the Red-winged Blackbirds have started to arrive.  I bet they are wondering what is the story with all this snow and ice.  They were too far away to see, but the call was unmistakable.







The reflection of the setting sun in the ice on the impoundment persuaded me that I should also be visiting Great Meadows at dusk...at least until the cattails grow up and block the view.