The Peeper through the Meadow Straying

Nothing says "Spring" to me quite as much as the sounds of peepers singing away in a pond or marsh. On the farm where I grew up in western Massachusetts, there was a big hayfield of maybe 15 acres just above the barn and farm house. There was a perennially boggy area along the upper edge of this field and every spring evening we'd be serenaded by the chorus of the hundreds of small frogs that inhabited it. The appearance of the peepers usually coincided with the end of sugaring season, and preceded the return of the Barn Swallows by a week or two. There's a saying that peepers will freeze back in three times before spring officially arrives. I've never actually tracked this to see how true it is, but it's certainly the case that New Englanders are usually in for one or more cold spells even after the frogs make their seasonal debut.

The sounds of peepers singing were one of the things that I missed most about spring during the dozen or more years I lived in Los Angeles, and the 25 years that I lived in Tennessee. Not that Tennessee doesn't have its share of peepers [dunno about Southern California], it's just that I was living in town, away from any wetlands.When I moved to Maine in April of last year I was absolutely delighted the first time I went out on our porch on a warm evening and the air was filled with the marvelous music of a multitude of tiny amphibians, singing their little hearts out in the marshy area down by the river. Yes!

I don't have to tell my fellow Mainers that spring has been late in coming this year. We've had a long string of chilly nights, but I finally heard peepers for the first time this year the night of April 18. A couple of nights later, when it was enough warmer to inspire a larger group of frogs to raise their voices in peep, I went down by the river, flashlight in hand, and recorded a few clips of their efforts on my iPhone. By running one of the resulting files through my audio editing program a few times I was able to boost the level sufficiently to make it fit for public consumption. Thus, I give you 38 seconds of  Eine Kleine Froschmusik:

  

Bliss.

Peepers are, however, much more readily heard than seen. Not only are they tiny, and do most of their singing after the sun has gone down, but they're shy little buggers that tend to shut up if one gets too close. I honestly don't think I've ever seen one in action, and I recall my father--who lived virtually all of his 89 years on the same farm and who loved hearing the peepers singing as much as anyone--saying that he'd never actually seen them either. Well now. 

Therefore, I have set myself the goal of not only seeing some peepers this year, but photographing them as well. To this end I've made a couple of forays into our woods late in the afternoon, early enough that there was still some daylight, but late enough that a few of the more assertive members of Amphibians Anonymous had begun warming up for the main concert later in the evening. So far I've not gotten even close to seeing any, much less taking their pictures. 

Yesterday afternoon I went for a walk on Kennebunk Plains, a managed area that's only a couple of miles from the house. I walked across the open area and down through the woods a bit to a small pond that we've been to numerous times. I got there shortly after 5:00 p.m., at which time there was already a pretty enthusiastic chorus performing. The pond is a man-made one, with a dam across the small brook that feeds the pond. Upstream from the dam a bit is a marshy area, and this is where the frogs were holding forth.

By walking gingerly on top of countless tufts of marsh grass, I managed to get fairly close to frog central but, of course, as soon as I got near a spot where some had been singing, they shut up. And didn't re-start for the 10-15 minutes that I stood there. When I finally decided to give up and head back to dry ground I had a big "Oh sh*t" moment--looking back in the direction from whence I had come, I had no idea what route I'd actually taken through the bog to get there! Ah well...nothing for it but to sally forth and try to pick my dry spots again...which I more or less managed to do. More or less.

Fortunately, the frogs weren't the only creatures of interest there--and I'm finally getting to some bird content here!--as there was also a pair of Mallards, a pair of Canada Geese that appear to be nesting on the pond, and a nice Belted Kingfisher whose efforts to secure dinner I'm afraid I interrupted just by showing up.

The big treat, though, was watching a Palm Warbler flitting around in some bushes on the shore of the pond. I took a bunch of pictures of him, but the conditions were lousy for trying to get him in focus. I think I've hit on a new law of nature: songbirds--especially warblers--maintain their position for exactly a fraction of a second less time than it takes to focus binoculars or camera on them. Really. Their timing is uncanny! Nevertheless, out of the 25 or so shots I took I managed to get a few that are worth sharing:

Lovely little guy! I should mention that earlier in the day a Palm or two had shown up in the trees outside the house, along with two or three Yellow-rumps. So the warbler drought that I whined about yesterday seems to be over, or has at least abated somewhat.

After I left the pond and returned to the flat, open area of the Plains, the first thing I saw was a handsome Northern Harrier gliding low over the ground. An Eastern Meadowlark--my first of year--was singing lustily atop one of the many small pines that are scattered across the landscape. I heard some ruckus behind me and turned to see a couple of crows harassing a large raptor who was flying over the woods. I couldn't get a good look at the hawk because of the strong back-lighting, but judging from the size and configuration, I'm reasonably sure it was a Northern Goshawk. A female American Kestrel was also working the fields. I saw her hover numerous times, but never witnessed her making any attempts to catch something.

Not a bad afternoon outing. As for seeing, and photographing, some peepers, my quest continues. Watch this space for breaking news.

Incidentally, if anyone's wondering about the title of this post, this link may help. Not one of my favorite tunes--I like the title better than the tune itself--and I'm not enamored of this performance, but so be it.

The Changing of the Sparrows and other Markers of the Season

The huge piles of winter snow have now vanished, and though our weather here in southern Maine is still pretty chilly, Spring has, in fact, sprung. More or less. This means, of course, that migration season is underway; the Maine birds e-mail list is buzzing with reports of first-of-year this and first-of-year that. I'm experiencing a bit of warbler envy as very few of the colorful, peripatetic little critters have yet shown up in my trees, though others around the state are reporting Palms and Pines and such. It's not a total warbler wasteland around here--I spotted a Palm in the brush along the driveway yesterday and as I write this I've been distracted by a male Yellow-rump that's been bopping around the trees outside my office window. I imagine that more will show up in due time. There have been numerous other seasonal returnees, and even a couple of new yard birds, to keep things interesting.

I'm especially happy to have White-throated Sparrows back with us. I noted the first one of the year on April 12, and he or she was soon joined by others. They were around for a few days before I heard any of them singing, but now the welcome sounds of "George Peabody, Peabody, Peabody" have been added to the mix of songs that accompany me as I go out to retrieve the papers of a morning.

 

Their cousins the Chipping Sparrows have returned as well; I noted the first one in the yard on April 16. I find it to be a bit of a challenge sometimes to distinguish Chippies from the Tree Sparrows that have been with us through the winter, and that seem to be year-round residents here. Although Chippies have a distinctly white eye stripe and the Trees have a gray one, in certain light and at certain distances I often have to resort to binoculars to be sure which species it is that I'm seeing.

Chipping Sparrow with female Goldfinch

The female Goldfinch in the photo is just one of many that are still around. The males have almost, but not quite, finished making their transformation from their muted winter colors to the spectacular yellow of summer, and are bringing some welcome zing to our feeders.

Regrettably, pretty much coincidental with the arrival of the White-throats and the Chippies was the departure of the Fox Sparrows that graced us with their presence through late March and early April. I noted a high count of five on April 6, but that was almost the last time I saw any. It was always a treat to look out and see them scratching on the ground, looking for something good to eat. We hope they found enough to their liking that they'll return next year!

 

I'm delighted, if a bit surprised, to note that Juncos are still around in abundance. I'm still learning the rhythms of the seasons here in Maine, but it's unlikely that the "Junkets" will be with much longer. I noted their arrival last October and they have delighted us all winter. We'll enjoy their presence as long as they care to stick around!

We've had a few Purple Finches around since April 19. There quite a few here in late summer and early fall last year, and I'm happy to see some back with us.

 

Back in January I noted the presence of a Brown Creeper in the yard. I was pleased that we had at least two around all winter, often joining the Downy Woodpeckers and others at our suet feeders. I've not seen them much recently, but was happy to see one yesterday, April 25.

Downy Woodpecker and Brown Creeper

Flickers have been back for several weeks now, though they're skittish enough that I've not been able to get any photos of them. I was extremely pleased to see a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker here on April 5--a new yard bird for us here!

I've not seen her too often, so perhaps she's moved on through. I'd like to think that she'll find a partner--if she doesn't already have one--and set up housekeeping in our woods. We get occasional looks at a pair of her big cousins, the Pileateds, so together with the Downies, Hairies, and Flickers our woodpecker count is pretty good.

The other new yard bird that made a brief appearance was a Ruffed Grouse that sauntered across the end of the driveway late in the afternoon of April 20--too far away to get any meaningful photos!

I made a few of the embedded images somewhat larger in this post than I have in the past but, as always, click on them to see larger copies.