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HomeMy WebLinkAboutMay 18, 2000 - Mother Nature has mood swings,6A • The Suffolk Times • May 18, 2000 Swin S tooMotherNaturehasmoodswings, too by a cold front that took us all by surprise. Did our world look bright and sunny? Far from it. Now a gloomy day with a strong, cool, east wind wiped out all past memories of those hot and humid days we just enjoyed. Few insects would be flitting from budding blossoms with the temperature in the 40s. If this were so, how would those tiny warblers I spoke of previous- ly sustain themselves if their food sup- ply had vanished with the cold? Perhaps nature has provided some sort of safety net for just such an occasion. Perhaps our little migrating jewels would have to dig deep inside the blos- soms to seek out their now- dormant, life -giv- ing food supply or per- haps nature has pro- vided each migrant with an extra supply of fat that they have added during the abundant days that will carry them over to when, once again, warm weather will return and their feast- ing will continue. Others, like the painted turtles in my pond, seem to take the cold snaps in their stride. Rather than sunning themselves on a log when it is warm, they just drop off into the water when the temperature drops and sleep away the time on the bottom until warmth once again triggers the return to their sunbathing. Let me break into this narrative to relate an incident that just occurred as I was writing out on our patio. Two small birds were in "hot pursuit" of each other and came out of the woods head- ing directly toward the house. It all happened so quickly I don't think they or I knew what was going to happen. Evidently the pursuer was gaining on the other one and in desperation the little lead bird flew into the picture window, thinking it was an escape route. I heard a thud, a few feathers flew and a tiny bird dropped at my feet. It was on ovenbird. It gets its name from the fact that it builds a nest in the shape of an oven on the ground. We hear this bird in our woods calling, Teacher, teacher, teacher." When first seen, you would think it was a young thrush, sort of olive brown above with a speckled breast and big black eyes with a faint eye ring. But, no, when you examine it closely, you notice the char- acteristic rusty- orange cap that distin- guishes this ground feeder as an oven- bird. Thank goodness it hit the window on an angle and was only temporarily stunned. It lay and gasped for air. Then it tried to gain its footing but failed and fell on its side. Finally after five or 10 minutes it was able to stand up and, with some new -found energy, flew off. Was the " hot pursuit" that started this almost- tragic trip in response to courtship antics or was this perhaps the pursuit of an outsider who had moved into another bird's territory? I don't know, but what I do know is there's an ovenbird out there with an awful bad headache. - . - - - - - 6A e7he Suffolk Time§ • May 18 2000 Mother Naturey. has mood swings, too With good planning by Barbara, our recent vacation ended in the midst of perfect weather back home. It seemed the tropical weather from the Carib- bean and up to San Francisco had somehow followed us all the way. Last week with its record - breaking tempera- tures in the 80s and 90s kept us in our vacation shorts and light shirts. FOCUS These high tem- peratures, with 014 the early rains NATURE had fallen b pawlpreviously, made Y it seem like some Stoutenburgh giant paintbrush had drenched our East End in green. The wild sour cherry trees that line the edge of our woods were at their peak of blossoming and as we ate a late breakfast out on the patio, we were caught in the midst of a shawer of white petals as each zephyr of air passed through. This budding and blos- soming of trees signals the time for the great migrations of small birds to begin. Previously, we had the more rugged birds arriving: the robins, the red - winged blackbirds, the grackles and others that moved in earlier because they were able to eke out a living until their world warmed up and provided easier pickings. Now that the stage was set with bud- ding and blossoming trees, tiny polli= nating insects would abound as if by magic. This would open up a window of opportunity for those new arrivals that rely on this new and abundant food supply. Many of these insect -eat- ing birds would only stay a short time, for they travel with the season as, it moves northward. They will keep on this northerly trek, traveling with the ever - budding spring until they arrive at their ancestral nesting grounds. There they will start a new generation that will follow instinctively the same migra tion routes as their parents. Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh These cheery little rodents are generally missing from our north shore. Feral cats and other predators make it impossible for them to survive here. Our closest chipmunk territory is the pine barrens and the bluffs of Riverhead, where they seem to be holding their own. How fortunate most of the pine barrens has been saved. parade begins and if you're lucky and in the right spot, you'll see these jewels pass through the treetops, some on the ground, some midway up, all eking out their life - giving food of insects that Last Sunday Barbara and I took the opportunity to find a spot where the transient warblers can usually be found. It's becoming more and more difficult to find a stand of woods where these migrating gems might be seen. Remember, they are only here for a short time, sometimes a few days, sometimes a week or two. It all depends on how fast the season moves as they travel along with it. The birds we were seeking come in such a variety of colors and sizes, it's often hard to tell them apart. They are small birds no larger than a good - sized chickadee. Most can be found flitting in the treetops seeking out their energy source of insects. We found our spot last Sunday morning, at Hunters' Garden, midway between the south side and Riverhead. It's at the end of a well-kept dirt road through the heart of the pine barrens. The dogwoods were in blossom as we drove into this unique spot; chewinks (rufous - sided towhees) and catbirds greeted us as they scratched in the dry leaf duff. They were part of the flight that had moved in ear- lier. Then our glasses picked up orioles, the colorful orange -and- black birds that build those unique hanging nests, usually at the end of a limb. Then we spotted the red of a scarlet tanager with its black wings. It tantalized us as it moved in and out of the greenery. A black -and -white warbler ran up and down the bark of a tree, picking oul hidden bits of energy that were stowed there for these travelers as they moved through. A thrush flew to a low limb. We waited for it to move so we could identify it. A veery we found it to be. We met other people there and it 4 rhav hart all come to their church" in the woods that morning. Six carloads of people, all with binocu- lars, all scanning the treetops. They picked out a Kentucky warbler. We found a Connecticut warbler and a worm- eating warbler. Others would be seen. It was a heyday of migration. Walking through the woods, we could hear the little. chirps of the chip- munks. They would look out of an old stump or hole in the ground as we passed by and then disappear. a phoeb one of the flycatchers — snipped insects on the wing above a little trick- ling brook where white violets bloomed. A black butterfly, I should say many black butterflies settled on the warm ground that the sun was pro- viding. Our day in the woods was com- plete. Writing an article each week some- times presents quite a challenge. By that I mean the situation I write about often changes between the time I start writing and the time I finish. So it was this past week. We had record- breaking ummer tem eratures that I wrote about followed by a cold front that took us all by surprise. Did our world look bright and sunny? Far from it. Now a gloomy day with a strong, cool, east wind wiped out all past memories of those hot and humid days we just enjoyed. Few insects would be flitting from budding blossoms with the temperature in the 40s. If this were so, how would those tiny warblers I spoke of previous- ly sustain themselves if their food sup- ply had vanished with the cold? Perhaps nature has provided some sort of safety net for just such an occasion. Perhaps our little migrating jewels would have to dig deep inside the blos- soms to seek out their now - dormant, life -giv- ing food supply or per- haps nature has pro- vided each migrant with an extra supply of fat that they have added during the abundant days that will carry them over to when, once again, warm weather will return and their feast - ine will continue. painted turtles in my pond, seem to take the cold snaps in their stride. Rather than sunning themselves on a log when it is warm, they just drop off into the water when the temperature drops and sleep away the time on the bottom until warmth once again triggers the return to their sunbathing. Let me break into this narrative to relate an incident that just occurred as I was writing out on our patio. Two small birds were in "hot pursuit" of each other and came out of the woods head- ing directly toward the house. It all happened so quickly I don't think they or I knew what was going to happen. Evidently the pursuer was gaining on the other one and in desperation the little lead bird flew into the picture window, thinking it was an escape route. I heard a thud, a few feathers flew and a tiny bird dropped at my feet. It was on ovenbird. It gets its name from the fact that it builds a nest in the shape of an oven on the ground. We hear this bird in our woods calling, Teacher, teacher, teacher." When first seen, you would think it was a young thrush, sort of olive brown above with a speckled breast and big black eyes with a faint eye ring. But, no, when you examine it closely, you notice the char- acteristic rusty- orange cap that distin- guishes this ground feeder as an oven- Thank goodness it hit the window on an angle and was only temporarily stunned. It lay and gasped for air. Then it tried to gain its footing but failed and fell on its side. Finally after five or 10 minutes it was able to stand up and, with some new -found energy, flew off. Was the "hot pursuit" that started this almost tragic trip in response to courtship antics or was this perhaps the pursuit of an outsider who had moved into another bird's territory? I don't know, but what I do know is there's an ovenbird out there with an awful bad headache: - - - - - - - - - - - __ _ -- - - - 6A e7he Suffolk Time§ • May 18 2000 Mother Naturey. has mood swings, too With good planning by Barbara, our recent vacation ended in the midst of perfect weather back home. It seemed the tropical weather from the Carib- bean and up to San Francisco had somehow followed us all the way. Last week with its record - breaking tempera- tures in the 80s and 90s kept us in our vacation shorts and light shirts. FOCUS These high tem- peratures, with 014 the early rains NATURE had fallen b pawlpreviously, made Y it seem like some Stoutenburgh giant paintbrush had drenched our East End in green. The wild sour cherry trees that line the edge of our woods were at their peak of blossoming and as we ate a late breakfast out on the patio, we were caught in the midst of a shawer of white petals as each zephyr of air passed through. This budding and blos- soming of trees signals the time for the great migrations of small birds to begin. Previously, we had the more rugged birds arriving: the robins, the red - winged blackbirds, the grackles and others that moved in earlier because they were able to eke out a living until their world warmed up and provided easier pickings. Now that the stage was set with bud- ding and blossoming trees, tiny polli= nating insects would abound as if by magic. This would open up a window of opportunity for those new arrivals that rely on this new and abundant food supply. Many of these insect -eat- ing birds would only stay a short time, for they travel with the season as, it moves northward. They will keep on this northerly trek, traveling with the ever - budding spring until they arrive at their ancestral nesting grounds. There they will start a new generation that will follow instinctively the same migra tion routes as their parents. Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh These cheery little rodents are generally missing from our north shore. Feral cats and other predators make it impossible for them to survive here. Our closest chipmunk territory is the pine barrens and the bluffs of Riverhead, where they seem to be holding their own. How fortunate most of the pine barrens has been saved. parade begins and if you're lucky and in the right spot, you'll see these jewels pass through the treetops, some on the ground, some midway up, all eking out their life - giving food of insects that Last Sunday Barbara and I took the opportunity to find a spot where the transient warblers can usually be found. It's becoming more and more difficult to find a stand of woods where these migrating gems might be seen. Remember, they are only here for a short time, sometimes a few days, sometimes a week or two. It all depends on how fast the season moves as they travel along with it. The birds we were seeking come in such a variety of colors and sizes, it's often hard to tell them apart. They are small birds no larger than a good - sized chickadee. Most can be found flitting in the treetops seeking out their energy source of insects. We found our spot last Sunday morning, at Hunters' Garden, midway between the south side and Riverhead. It's at the end of a well-kept dirt road through the heart of the pine barrens. The dogwoods were in blossom as we drove into this unique spot; chewinks (rufous - sided towhees) and catbirds greeted us as they scratched in the dry leaf duff. They were part of the flight that had moved in ear- lier. Then our glasses picked up orioles, the colorful orange -and- black birds that build those unique hanging nests, usually at the end of a limb. Then we spotted the red of a scarlet tanager with its black wings. It tantalized us as it moved in and out of the greenery. A black -and -white warbler ran up and down the bark of a tree, picking oul hidden bits of energy that were stowed there for these travelers as they moved through. A thrush flew to a low limb. We waited for it to move so we could identify it. A veery we found it to be. We met other people there and it 4 rhav hart all come to their church" in the woods that morning. Six carloads of people, all with binocu- lars, all scanning the treetops. They picked out a Kentucky warbler. We found a Connecticut warbler and a worm- eating warbler. Others would be seen. It was a heyday of migration. Walking through the woods, we could hear the little. chirps of the chip- munks. They would look out of an old stump or hole in the ground as we passed by and then disappear. a phoeb one of the flycatchers — snipped insects on the wing above a little trick- ling brook where white violets bloomed. A black butterfly, I should say many black butterflies settled on the warm ground that the sun was pro- viding. Our day in the woods was com- plete. Writing an article each week some- times presents quite a challenge. By that I mean the situation I write about often changes between the time I start writing and the time I finish. So it was this past week. We had record- breaking ummer tem eratures that I wrote about followed by a cold front that took us all by surprise. Did our world look bright and sunny? Far from it. Now a gloomy day with a strong, cool, east wind wiped out all past memories of those hot and humid days we just enjoyed. Few insects would be flitting from budding blossoms with the temperature in the 40s. If this were so, how would those tiny warblers I spoke of previous- ly sustain themselves if their food sup- ply had vanished with the cold? Perhaps nature has provided some sort of safety net for just such an occasion. Perhaps our little migrating jewels would have to dig deep inside the blos- soms to seek out their now - dormant, life -giv- ing food supply or per- haps nature has pro- vided each migrant with an extra supply of fat that they have added during the abundant days that will carry them over to when, once again, warm weather will return and their feast - ine will continue. painted turtles in my pond, seem to take the cold snaps in their stride. Rather than sunning themselves on a log when it is warm, they just drop off into the water when the temperature drops and sleep away the time on the bottom until warmth once again triggers the return to their sunbathing. Let me break into this narrative to relate an incident that just occurred as I was writing out on our patio. Two small birds were in "hot pursuit" of each other and came out of the woods head- ing directly toward the house. It all happened so quickly I don't think they or I knew what was going to happen. Evidently the pursuer was gaining on the other one and in desperation the little lead bird flew into the picture window, thinking it was an escape route. I heard a thud, a few feathers flew and a tiny bird dropped at my feet. It was on ovenbird. It gets its name from the fact that it builds a nest in the shape of an oven on the ground. We hear this bird in our woods calling, Teacher, teacher, teacher." When first seen, you would think it was a young thrush, sort of olive brown above with a speckled breast and big black eyes with a faint eye ring. But, no, when you examine it closely, you notice the char- acteristic rusty- orange cap that distin- guishes this ground feeder as an oven- Thank goodness it hit the window on an angle and was only temporarily stunned. It lay and gasped for air. Then it tried to gain its footing but failed and fell on its side. Finally after five or 10 minutes it was able to stand up and, with some new -found energy, flew off. Was the "hot pursuit" that started this almost tragic trip in response to courtship antics or was this perhaps the pursuit of an outsider who had moved into another bird's territory? I don't know, but what I do know is there's an ovenbird out there with an awful bad headache: - - - - - - - - - - - __ _ -- - - - 6A e7he Suffolk Time§ • May 18 2000 Mother Naturey. has mood swings, too With good planning by Barbara, our recent vacation ended in the midst of perfect weather back home. It seemed the tropical weather from the Carib- bean and up to San Francisco had somehow followed us all the way. Last week with its record - breaking tempera- tures in the 80s and 90s kept us in our vacation shorts and light shirts. FOCUS These high tem- peratures, with 014 the early rains NATURE had fallen b pawlpreviously, made Y it seem like some Stoutenburgh giant paintbrush had drenched our East End in green. The wild sour cherry trees that line the edge of our woods were at their peak of blossoming and as we ate a late breakfast out on the patio, we were caught in the midst of a shawer of white petals as each zephyr of air passed through. This budding and blos- soming of trees signals the time for the great migrations of small birds to begin. Previously, we had the more rugged birds arriving: the robins, the red - winged blackbirds, the grackles and others that moved in earlier because they were able to eke out a living until their world warmed up and provided easier pickings. Now that the stage was set with bud- ding and blossoming trees, tiny polli= nating insects would abound as if by magic. This would open up a window of opportunity for those new arrivals that rely on this new and abundant food supply. Many of these insect -eat- ing birds would only stay a short time, for they travel with the season as, it moves northward. They will keep on this northerly trek, traveling with the ever - budding spring until they arrive at their ancestral nesting grounds. There they will start a new generation that will follow instinctively the same migra tion routes as their parents. Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh These cheery little rodents are generally missing from our north shore. Feral cats and other predators make it impossible for them to survive here. Our closest chipmunk territory is the pine barrens and the bluffs of Riverhead, where they seem to be holding their own. How fortunate most of the pine barrens has been saved. parade begins and if you're lucky and in the right spot, you'll see these jewels pass through the treetops, some on the ground, some midway up, all eking out their life - giving food of insects that Last Sunday Barbara and I took the opportunity to find a spot where the transient warblers can usually be found. It's becoming more and more difficult to find a stand of woods where these migrating gems might be seen. Remember, they are only here for a short time, sometimes a few days, sometimes a week or two. It all depends on how fast the season moves as they travel along with it. The birds we were seeking come in such a variety of colors and sizes, it's often hard to tell them apart. They are small birds no larger than a good - sized chickadee. Most can be found flitting in the treetops seeking out their energy source of insects. We found our spot last Sunday morning, at Hunters' Garden, midway between the south side and Riverhead. It's at the end of a well-kept dirt road through the heart of the pine barrens. The dogwoods were in blossom as we drove into this unique spot; chewinks (rufous - sided towhees) and catbirds greeted us as they scratched in the dry leaf duff. They were part of the flight that had moved in ear- lier. Then our glasses picked up orioles, the colorful orange -and- black birds that build those unique hanging nests, usually at the end of a limb. Then we spotted the red of a scarlet tanager with its black wings. It tantalized us as it moved in and out of the greenery. A black -and -white warbler ran up and down the bark of a tree, picking oul hidden bits of energy that were stowed there for these travelers as they moved through. A thrush flew to a low limb. We waited for it to move so we could identify it. A veery we found it to be. We met other people there and it 4 rhav hart all come to their church" in the woods that morning. Six carloads of people, all with binocu- lars, all scanning the treetops. They picked out a Kentucky warbler. We found a Connecticut warbler and a worm- eating warbler. Others would be seen. It was a heyday of migration. Walking through the woods, we could hear the little. chirps of the chip- munks. They would look out of an old stump or hole in the ground as we passed by and then disappear. a phoeb one of the flycatchers — snipped insects on the wing above a little trick- ling brook where white violets bloomed. A black butterfly, I should say many black butterflies settled on the warm ground that the sun was pro- viding. Our day in the woods was com- plete. Writing an article each week some- times presents quite a challenge. By that I mean the situation I write about often changes between the time I start writing and the time I finish. So it was this past week. We had record- breaking ummer tem eratures that I wrote about followed by a cold front that took us all by surprise. Did our world look bright and sunny? Far from it. Now a gloomy day with a strong, cool, east wind wiped out all past memories of those hot and humid days we just enjoyed. Few insects would be flitting from budding blossoms with the temperature in the 40s. If this were so, how would those tiny warblers I spoke of previous- ly sustain themselves if their food sup- ply had vanished with the cold? Perhaps nature has provided some sort of safety net for just such an occasion. Perhaps our little migrating jewels would have to dig deep inside the blos- soms to seek out their now - dormant, life -giv- ing food supply or per- haps nature has pro- vided each migrant with an extra supply of fat that they have added during the abundant days that will carry them over to when, once again, warm weather will return and their feast - ine will continue. painted turtles in my pond, seem to take the cold snaps in their stride. Rather than sunning themselves on a log when it is warm, they just drop off into the water when the temperature drops and sleep away the time on the bottom until warmth once again triggers the return to their sunbathing. Let me break into this narrative to relate an incident that just occurred as I was writing out on our patio. Two small birds were in "hot pursuit" of each other and came out of the woods head- ing directly toward the house. It all happened so quickly I don't think they or I knew what was going to happen. Evidently the pursuer was gaining on the other one and in desperation the little lead bird flew into the picture window, thinking it was an escape route. I heard a thud, a few feathers flew and a tiny bird dropped at my feet. It was on ovenbird. It gets its name from the fact that it builds a nest in the shape of an oven on the ground. We hear this bird in our woods calling, Teacher, teacher, teacher." When first seen, you would think it was a young thrush, sort of olive brown above with a speckled breast and big black eyes with a faint eye ring. But, no, when you examine it closely, you notice the char- acteristic rusty- orange cap that distin- guishes this ground feeder as an oven- Thank goodness it hit the window on an angle and was only temporarily stunned. It lay and gasped for air. Then it tried to gain its footing but failed and fell on its side. Finally after five or 10 minutes it was able to stand up and, with some new -found energy, flew off. Was the "hot pursuit" that started this almost tragic trip in response to courtship antics or was this perhaps the pursuit of an outsider who had moved into another bird's territory? I don't know, but what I do know is there's an ovenbird out there with an awful bad headache: - - - - - - - - - - - __ _ -- - - -