February Sandy Hook: Fun in the Sun and the Sands

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Base of Sandy Hook Light

NJWILDBEAUTY readers know that I treasure winter along our magnificent Jersey coasts.  You may overlook the fact that we have three:  The Atlantic, The Delaware River; and Delaware Bay.  This is heaven for this Midwesterner, who never even saw saltwater until the summer between seventh and eighth grade.  This is troublous for one who is all too aware of sea-level rise in the twenty-first century.

Sandy Hook River-side Views with Tasha Fall 2017

Tasha O’Neill Looking Back at the Mainland from the Barrier Island that is Sandy Hook in HOT September!

Two friends willingly planned a Sandy Hook jaunt for yesterday, not really realizing that it was Valentine’s Day.  My companions that day were my former Packet editor, Ilene Dube, who insisted that I blog for her paper ages ago…, and my fine-art-photographer friend Tasha O’Neill.  I owe my first blog, NJWILD for the Packet, and its successor, NJWILDBEAUTY to Ilene – who insisted I do this, when I did not know what a blog was!

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Manhattan from Sandy Hook on a Windy Spring Day – North End of Barrier Island

We’d planned to visit Monmouth University first for three art exhibitions, especially James Fiorentino’s of Conserve Wildlife NJ.  But the sun burst out as we headed due east, and Sandy Hook won post position.Spermaceti Cove Sandy Hook Jan 2017

Spermaceti Cove and Boardwalk, High Tide, January 2017

Ilene had not known such New Jersey treasures as Little Silver and Colt’s Neck, let alone the equestrian paradise of Monmouth County.  Our drive through Rumson’s array of true mansions brought up amazing comparisons — Newport, Bar Harbor…  And then we were crossing the glinting Navesink River, the Atlantic Ocean stretching into infinity before us.  This Michigander can never believe that scene!

Verrazano and Light House Sandy Hook Spring 2017

Verrazano and Tip of Manhattan from Sandy Hook’s Northernmost Trail

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Birding Essentials: Kathleen and Jim Amon: January 2017

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Red-throated Loon in Winter Plumage on Pond for Amons and Me: Jan. 2017

(Internet Image)

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Essential Tools for Birding Anywhere, especially Sandy Hook, especially Winter: 

David Allen Sibley

There are no fees for ‘The Hook’ in winter, and never for birders (because you’ll be hiking, not swimming, not parking at crowded beach sites of summer).  I see us tumbling like children in our eagerness to get close enough to the waves.  The ocean was a pale and delicate hue, baby-boy-blanket-blue.

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Working Harbor in Winter, Across Navesink from Sandy Hook Preserve

No matter where we turned, everything was pristine and exquisite.  The few sounds included mutterings of gulls and whispering waves.

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Where the Rabbit Loped, January 2017

Later, on the wast side, we would be treated to the nature sound I cherish – murmurings among a flock of brant.  These small goose-like birds, ==whose shape in the water echoes small air-craft carriers–, have only just arrived at ‘the Hook.’  They swam in determined flotillas, more tourists than residents, –zipping first here, then there, as if renewing old ties.

Brant Goose Drinking Barnegat

Brant Sipping at Low Tide, by Brenda Jones

In peaceful water, toy-like buffleheads, quintessential diving ducks, bobbed up anddown, arrived and departed, vanished and materialized with characteristic merriment.

Male Bufflehead by Ray Yeager

Ray Yeager – Key Fine Art Photographer of Winter Ducks:  Male Bufflehead

Ilene was fascinated to see all the osprey nests — some on human-built platforms; some on the chimneys of venerable yellow-brick military dwellings.  Some platforms, especially at the hawk watch platform (north), had been emptied by recent storms.

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Birding Spermaceti Cove in Winter — Seals on Skull Island off to our Left

Even though it was February, a heat haze of the most exquisite soft-slate-blue obscured not only the Verrazano Bridge, but also Manhattan’s Wall Street megaliths.  Only nature was in view from the platform that day.

Sandy Hook Vista North Spring 2017

View from Hawk Watch Platform on Windy Spring Day

Grasses at Spermaceti Cove looked as though they’d been repeatedly beaten into submission by a glacier, not simply by recent high tides.  Glistening mud of the inlet’s banks was spattered with deep raccoon ‘hand’-prints, where these nocturnal mammals had washed recent foods before eating.

Fall and Winter Sandy Hook Salt Pond Region Jan 2017

Sandy Hook Marsh Grasses, January 2017

I am a realist. We are nowhere near the vernal equinox.  But, yes, days are lengthening, amazingly at both ends.

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Christmas on the Navesink River from Bahrs

Yes, every once in awhile, a balminess arrives.  When three friends can celebrate together, even to feasting at Bahrs, the 100-year-old Highlands seafood restaurant high above the Navesink.  Where we could down Delaware Bay oysters and other rare treats, before taking in all three art exhibits in three different buildings at Monmouth University, without wearing coats.  Then drive home in golden light, through the Battlefield of Monmouth, without which we would not have a country.

Gastronomic Haven by the Sea Bahrs Jan. 2017

 

Birders at Bahrs Jan. 2017

When Birders Lunch at Bahrs

I cannot help wondering what our colonial heroes would think of the country they fought and many died to save, in so many New Jersey battles.  But our is a noble history.  Their pledging and/or giving their lives, their fortunes, but never their sacred honor, cannot be for naught.

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Patriots’ Flag at Site of Battle of Chestnut Neck, in Pine Barrens

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From start to finish, Mother Nature herself had given Ilene, Tasha and me treasured Valentines.  The red and white, however, decorated Sandy Hook’s Storied Light, rather than hearts.  Lighthouses and 13-Star Flags, however, always warm MY heart.  I hope they warm YOURS!

Try beaches in winter!

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Sandy Hook’s Heroic Lifesaving Station

And preserve every inch of open and historic space in magnificent New Jersey!

 

Tasha Carolyn Bahrs Sandy Hook April

Tasha and I on her COLD April Birthday — at Bahrs, Sandy Hook Behind Us…

 

 

WINTER BIRDING AT THE BEACH ~ Sandy Hook, January 6

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Sandy Hook, Sandy Hook Bay, Spermaceti Cove on our  January Birding Day

Epiphany, indeed!   Actually, multiple epiphanies on the purported day of the Three Kings’ visit to the manger…

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Two Seasons, near Salt Pond, Sandy Hook, January 6, 2017

O.K., it snowed all night.  Who cares?

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Where The Rabbit Ran… near Salt Pond, Sandy Hook, January 6, 2017

There is nothing more thrilling than finding first tracks in fresh snow or upon tide-compressed sand.

And, yes, it’s cold and windy — so much the BETTER!

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The King of the Foxes — Where the Fox Sips, Spermaceti Cove, Sandy Hook, January

I’m beginning to think that winter is the BEST time for adventures!

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Kathleen and Jim Amon, Studying Buffleheads, Mergansers, Brant and a Lone Red-Breasted Loon in Winter Plumage

Come with Kathleen and Jim Amon, of Lambertville, (and me).  These friends are key birders, both fine artists — Jim with a one-man exhibition into early February at D&R Greenway of his magnificent butterfly studies.  Jim is my former colleague (Director of Stewardship at D&R Greenway Land Trust).  He also supports the Sourlands Conservancy, and writes marvelous nature articles under the heading, “Seeing the Sourlands.” Both are also impassioned about food, which you know key to my nature quests.

Yes, stroll with us along the northernmost barrier beach of New Jersey early on a January Friday morning.

As you can see from my intent friends above, –wild winds, recent snow, a nearby bay, and a few salt ponds over which increasing gusts were gusting, mean nothing.

Gear is essential.  Fashion is not.  Windproofed everything is worth its weight in gold.

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Essential ‘Gear’ for Birding in All Seasons – David Alan Sibley’s Masterworks

O, yes, and having memorized most of the texts of these books, and possessing decent optics.  As NJWILDBEAUTY readers know, an amazing friend recently gave me her second set of Swarovski binoculars.  Kathleen Amon had just purchased the identical ‘species’.  Here she is using them for the first time, astounded by subtleties revealed.  These ‘glasses’ are beyond price.  No gift of my life, (including rare jewels from my ex-husband) surpasses them in importance.

At my bird-feeder at home, my amazing Swarovskis, I swear, let me absorb the personality and character of feeding goldfinches from the look in their eyes!

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Female American Goldfinch (NJ STATE BIRD) on Seed Sack by Fine Art Photographer, Friend: Brenda Jones

Other essentials, — which I am sure all my NJWILDBEAUTY readers possess, include curiosity, passion, enthusiasm, persistence, courage, and a certain level of fitness – which as you know Peroneus Longus  (that pesky left-leg tendon) does not always provide.

‘Perry’ was a brat last week at Island Beach.  But we worked him into cooperation any number of times.  At Sandy Hook, –taped anew by my legendary chiropractor, Brandon Osborne of Hopewell– Peroneus behaved like a perfect gentleman.  So he moved into Jim Amon’s league…

O, yes, the ankle tape this week is the color of tomato soup before you add milk.  It sports white writing all over everywhere, shouting “ROCK TAPE”, over and over and over.

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Jim and Kathleen Amon, intent upon buffleheads, Spermaceti Cove, at Sandy Hook, January 6, 2017

Never mind rocks.   Give me sand and snow!

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Brooding Wetland, Spermaceti Cove, Sandy Hook in January

The purpose of our jaunt, which we’d determined to take come rain or snow or sleet or hail, — well, almost… — was to acquaint Jim and Kathleen with all the bird ops at Sandy Hook.

To show them where the green heron lurks in summer:

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Green Heron, Brenda Jones

Where the great egret feeds on the incoming tide…

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Great Egret by Brenda Jones

Where the ospreys soar, court, mate, build nests, raise hefty young, and perform impressive exchanges, as both parents tend first eggs, then chicks.

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Osprey by Brenda Jones

Well, you get the idea.

Every time I introduce anyone to Sandy Hook, there is great attraction to, and concern for, the yellow houses left from “the Hook’s” military past.  Time has had its way with them.

Sandy, the Storm, was doubly merciless — waves crashing in from the Atlantic and others rising with menace from all-too-near Sandy Hook Bay.

These houses, upon whose chimneys ospreys delight to nest and successfully raise young, are finally being restored!

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Restoration of the Yellow Houses

Everyone muses, in the presence of the battered yellow house, upon stories these dwellings could tell.

Three of these haunting structures had become impeccable, after all these ruinous decades. The northernmost restoration now sports a FOR RENT sign in its front window.  The one beyond that had its door open, a workman in a hard hat entering with urgency.  Across from their porches, one faces Sandy Hook Bay, bird-rich, to be sure.  Also frequently crossed by the ferry to Manhattan…

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New Ad for Yellow Houses, up near North Beach and Hawk Watch Platform

Oh, yes, and what birds did we find?

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Common Merganser Female by Fine Art Photographer/Friend, Ray Yeager

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Hooded Merganser, Ray Yeager

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Male Bufflehead, Ray Yeager

Brant Goose Drinking Barnegat

Brant, by Brenda Jones

What did we see that we did not expect?  I had jokingly mentioned, as we faced salt ponds awash in the dapper and compelling ducks of winter, “With any luck, we’ll have a red-throated loon in winter plumage…   Of course, that means he won’t have a red throat.”

This is just one of the many complexities of the birder’s life.  If you cannot stand contradictions (such as the black-bellied plover in winter plumage who has white belly), don’t bird.

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Red-throated Loon in Winter Plumage from Internet: Cornell Ornithology Lab

What had we expected to find, but didn’t have enough time on the ocean side?

Long-tailed ducks out beyond the third waves…

Ray Yeager is a master at finding and immortalizing long-tails, so this image will have to do for all of us.

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Lon-tailed duck, male, by Ray Yeager

What do I remember from my November visit, [that did not happen in January]– every brant on the salt ponds catapulted into the air by horrific military noise from two officious helicopters.

‘The Hook’ has been military since the War of 1812, even though “no shot has been fired in anger”, as they say, along those splendid sands.

I’m supposed to feel secure and protected in the presence of the military, but the opposite is my truth.  Such intrusions cannot be good for the birds..

.

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All the Brant of Sandy Hook’s Salt Pond, Fleeing Cacophonous Helicopters, November 2016

Sandy Hook is so special, even the poison ivy is beautiful.  This November scene reminds us

(1) Winter Birding is full of riches, worth all the risks and potential discomforts.

(2) Rejoice that these preserves exist.  Do everything in your power to see that they persist, for the wild creatures above all, and for human epiphanies!

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Poison Ivy Still Life, November 2016

“Extreme Environmentalist” Confronts Sarah Palin – Poem by Carolyn Foote Edelmann, June 2010, after Gulf Oil Disaster

Because I will be birding pristine Island Beach this Sunday, –with five other intense bird-lovers, two of whom are the well known fine art nature photographers, Ray Yeager (of Ray Yeager Photography.com) and Angela Previte, (of Simple Life at the Shore Nature Blog), I am expecting to be in the company of gannets.  There is no more elegant, no more spectaculara shore bird in my world, especially when gannets are feeding.  We may also be gifted with long-tailed ducks, out beyond the third waves.  Island Beach remains  as impeccable as gannets, –still serene, shrubby, wind-blown and un-BUILT since creation, thanks to PRESERVATIONISTS.  We six have the sense that we must relish this magnitude, this nature at her peak, while we still can…

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Northern Gannet Plunging, From Internet

Most of the time, dear NJWILDBEAUTY readers, I have managed to keep politics out of NJWILDBEAUTY.  Even though, as we all know, politicians threaten most if not all of the wild beauty of our (most populous, never forget it!) state; and, increasingly, of the Planet itself.

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Gannet on Rocks in Healthy Habitat

Even though I dared once refer to this state’s so-called governor as ‘our Caligula’, in these ‘pages’; and termed then-newly-nominated presidential candidate ‘the new Hitler.’

I have not revised my opinion, by the way.

Although I try to concentrate on nature instead of politics in these ‘pages.’

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Oiled Gannet on Beach from Internet

Now enormous confrontation looms, in which politics will do all in its power to to destroy nature.  One of their cohorts, now, –Sarah Palin–, is mentioned as Cabinet material.

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Oiled Gannet Face, From Internet

Long ago, my poem, (in the form of a letter to Ms. Palin) –before appearing in NJWILD, which Ilene Dube asked me to launch for Princeton Packet Publications–, had won internet publication by a clean water group asking for poems about the seemingly insuperable, and now mostly overlooked, Gulf Oil disaster.  You may recall whom Sarah Palin blamed…

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BP OIL DISASTER, from Internet, which everyone continues to refer to as a “SPILL”, including internet title to this image

No one who cares about birds has forgotten the BP explosion, which was originally reported as emitting 200 barrels of oil per day.  Do note that, –even in the caption for this photo on the Internet–, the ceaseless explosions and outpourings are simply termed ‘a spill.’

I did write, in NJWILD, “If you believe that gallon estimate, you’ll believe anything.”

We all know that far more than birds was ruined in those terrible months — especially the way of life of people of Louisiana who had fished and shrimped and boated for generations.

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Oiled Human Protestor in Gulf during BP Disaster

You may have forgotten that Sarah and her ilk blamed the disaster (which means “torn from the stars!”), on “extreme environmentalists.”  I proudly accepted then, –and even more insistently now–, rejoice in that title.  The result was the poem below.

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The Livelihood of Gulf Fishermen because of BP Disaster

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ICON of BP DISASTER – Oiled Pelicans

Today, I mailed the poem to my my professor daughter to read it to her Literature class at a California college.  I dared challenge this formidable young woman and ardent feminist to suggest that her students have their pictures taken HUGGING A TREE, to promulgate on Facebook.  To show the shuddering world that not everyone in America agrees with its most outrageous current spokesman.  To demonstrate that the guardians of the future know what really matters.

Everyone reading this can do so, letting our allies know that some of us do have planetary consciousness.

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We Need to Become a Nation, a World, of TREE-HUGGERS

WHAT REALLY MATTERS:

Liberty

Nature

The Planet

 

PLEASE SHARE THIS WITH EVERYONE YOU KNOW —

Remember, Margaret Mead insists, “A small group of people can change the world.  Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

And Edwin Burke:  “All that it takes for evil to happen is for good men (PEOPLE) to do nothing.”

WHAT WILL YOU DO?

the poem of June 2010:

DEAR SARAH PALIN,

 

I understand it’s all my fault

–this Gulf oil disaster, I mean–

not only all that fire

bodies catapulted into air

then drowned

soon likely shark bait

but also this volcano of oil

spewing interminably

into our blue mantle

 

Sarah, you say

I did this

all of this and more

now some six weeks ago

with no end in sight

 

and no businessman

politician not even a general

let alone you, Sarah Palin,

knows how to stop

this tornado of oil

 

it’s also my fault, the oiled birds

— Northern gannets —

pristine as Josephine

in her Empire gown

frail white silk

adorned with gold

though not quite bees

dark eyes snapping

as each becomes increasingly encased

in ‘my’ oil

more abruptly than all those mastodons

in La Brea’s tar pits

 

now slender cormorants

who, everyone is sure, are drowning

as they swim along

neck barely afloat

no one realizing

the genius of cormorants

who can fly/swim 30 miles an hour

underwater

when they are not oiled

 

about the mpg of my car

my old car

for the ownership of which

I am quite guilty

for the replacement of which

I have no means

 

cormorants

must wave both wings

after every dive

to dry them

so that they may

dive and dive again

–no wave strong enough

to shake off ceaseless poison weight

of oil

 

it’s my fault, the reddish egrets

you know his own epitaph

–written by photographer Ted Cross

for his own recent death–

describing his multi-faceted self

on the Other Side

“still searching for the perfect photograph

of the reddish egret”

 

Ted did not have in mind

this soiled oiled specimen

trying, unsuccessfully

to lift newly leaden

legs wings and feet

out of Gulf mud muck and oil

 

it’s all my fault

and not because I use the wrong lightbulbs

in a couple of fixtures

nor because I do turn on the heat.

inside, in winter, sometimes

although I’ve been doing without air

conditioning so far this troubled year

 

it’s my fault

because I am an “extreme environmentalist”

because I think there should never be any more

drilling for oil in our country

because I deplore petrotyrrany

the privatization of profits

socialization of poverty

because I think we should start with the auto companies

 

well, what do you expect, Sarah?

I grew up in Detroit

 

I’ve never seen a wolf in the wild

as you do and deplore.

These beings you condemn to bloody deaths

I would embrace

 

nor have I encountered

a single polar bear

let alone a starving female trying to find food

for her new brood

attempting to swim with them

toward vanishing ice floes

but that’s o.k. with you

Sarah

it makes the hunting

easier

 

it’s my fault, Sarah

for I am quite literally

a tree-hugger

 

I believe that greed should end

America return to her original nobility

where people pledged lives

fortunes

sacred honor

remember sacred honor?

— ah, well, probably not, Sarah

 

I believe we are our Planet’s

keepers

 

Sarah – who are you?

Carolyn Foote Edelmann

June 2010

“This is not an environmental disaster, and I will say that again and again.”
– Congressman Don Young (R-Alaska) speaking about the Gulf of Mexico oil spill.

 

 

 

TRUE FRIENDS – Poem re Henry David Thoreau; Bird List from the Marsh

Sleepy Snowy Owl by Ray Yeager

Sleepy Snowy Owl by Ray Yeager

It’s lovely to think, had I lived in Concord, I might have strolled with Henry round his pond, met the creatures who enlivened his Walden days and nights.

This is a new poem, triggered by my umpteenth reading of Walden.  What a treat it is to plaster and build fires and fish and stride with Henry, far from the hurly burly and gossip he decries, while all the world seems to be swarming into and through malls…

REMEMBER PARTRIDGES?

Henry, in his Walden haven,

called partridges

“my hens and chickens”

praising serene eyes

— open yet filled

“with wisdom clarified by experience”

trusting

in his outstretched human hand

insisting partridge eyes

were “not born when the bird was”

but are “coeval with sky”

Henry hearkens

to partridge “mewings”

the “whinnerrings”

of raccoons

consorts with otter

“big as a small boy”

heading for a summer spring

–cooler than his pond

Henry is ringed and ringed

by the maternal woodcock

pretending broken wing

then leg

if we could follow his instructions:

“You only need sit still

long enough.”

CAROLYN FOOTE EDELMANN

December 6, 2014

It’s interesting, in this time of gifts and cards, to attempt to define true friendship.

Right now, true friendship is conveyed by people I slightly know and barely ever see.  Ray Yeager, who sends his newest snowy owl, frisking fox, from Holgate, from Island Beach.

FRisky Fox of Island Beach, early December 2014, by Ray Yeager

Frisky Fox of Island Beach, early December 2014, by Ray Yeager

And Warren Liebensperger, “Godfather of the Marsh,” who called last night with the current bird list from the (Hamilton Trenton Bordentown) Abbott Marshlands:

mute swans

Canada geese

wood ducks

green-winged teal

American black ducks

mallards

northern pintails

northern shovelers

gadwall

American wigeon (this used to be spelled with a ‘d’ and always looks wrong to me)

hooded mergansers

marsh hawk

sharp-shinned

Cooper’s hawk

bald eagle

a lot of coots!

Most of these birds were to the right as you walk into the Abbott Marshlands off Sewell Avenue. According to Warren, there was “nothing in Spring Lake.”  The lake never looked right all summer and fall, choked with insect-riddled yellowing leaves.  I wonder if its ph has changed or what that makes it inhospitable to winter waterfowl.

Warren then, clearly disappointed by the emptiness of the lake, gave me his (near-Marsh) yard bird list:

flickers

robins

marsh wrens, which “they like to call winter wren”

kinglets, mostly golden-crowned

chickadees

cowbirds

white-breasted nuthatch

downy woodpecker

hairy woodpecker

American crows

of course, the juncoes are here

THANK YOU, PROFOUNDLY, RAY AND WARREN, for our friendship, and yours, with the wild creatures.