Changing of the Guard
Phenology – “a branch of science concerned with the relationship between climate and periodic biological phenomena (as the migration of birds or the flowering and fruiting of plants).”
Bye, Bye Birdie
By the beginning of November, the last of the summer birds have departed. The bluebirds that nested in our back yard and the redwings that raised such a ruckus around the pond were gone by mid-August. The warblers and the hummingbirds now search for their meals in Cape Cod or the Eastern Shore of Virginia. We might see a few mergansers in our pond or down at Coffin Pond, but they too will be far south before Veterans Day.
November 7, 2022, 72 degrees (!). At least three hooded mergansers, including one pair, were on the dam the last two days. Today, one that was floating in the pond flew to the other end and hid in the reeds when I approached.
November 7, 2020. Several common mergansers could be seen preening, scratching, and floating along on the other side of Coffin Pond.
November 1, 2009. There are 21 robins in the back yard and one in the front, who needs to get with the program.
Robins are the most cooperative migrant for the photographer. They travel in a flock of a dozen or two, and they frequently decide to spend a half hour or more foraging in the back yard. There is always plenty of time to get my camera, and if I’m in a rush, I know they’ll be back in a day or two.
1 Photos and text by Carl D. Martland, founding member of ACT, long-time resident of Sugar Hill, and author of Sugar Hill Days: What’s Happening in the Fields, Wetlands, and Forests of a Small New Hampshire Town on the Western Edge of the White Mountain. Quotations from his book and his journals indicate the dates of and the situations depicted in the photos.
Keeping the camera right at hand near the kitchen window is critical for those rare occasions when a woodcock or a snipe strays from the protection of the fields. They seldom stay very long on the lawn, and they can easily be spooked.
November 6, 2020, 4:45pm. When I went to the kitchen for a late afternoon snack, a woodcock was outside on the lawn doing the exact same thing.
Sometimes, all I can do is to make a note in my journal, either because the birds are too far away or too jittery.
November 8-9, 2011. There were two bluebirds in the trees by Post Road, across from our driveway.
Out of the Woods
Not all of our summer residents depart for sunnier climes. Turkeys, blue jays, woodpeckers, grouse and chickadees are here year-round, but they are easier to see once the leaves have fallen, and they are less reclusive once their youngsters can pretty much fend for themselves. Turkeys are commonly seen along the highways in the late fall, and a couple of times we have seen owls:
November 21, 2020. We saw two flocks of about a dozen turkeys each along Pearl Lake Road.
December 10-13, 1999. We went to the Lower 45 after lunch. The highlight was seeing a barred owl sitting in a pine tree, looking first at Nancy, then at me, and then flying lugubriously across the field. Its wing span was about 5 feet.
December 25, 2010. After hearing a pileated woodpecker, I went deeper into the woods and found two of the woodpeckers, one high on a snag and the other way up on a 100-foot poplar tree. After about ten minutes, one flew off to a nearby tree and made several of its raucous calls.
Often when I take my walk out by the pond, a half dozen or so chickadees gather around, perching on branches only ten or fifteen feet away, chirping all the time. I don’t know if they are happy to see me or if their chatter is intended to warn everyone else that a big, bad guy is approaching.
December 1, 2020. Since the leaves are off the trees, I was able to get a photo of one of the little groups of chickadees that made a racket as I approached the Point.
Winter Residents
Eventually, the migrating robins and bluebirds have all made it past Sugar Hill, and we begin to look for the finches, redpolls, juncos and the others that spend their winters with us. At first, we see them resting or flitting about in the trees by the roadside or at the edge of the meadows.
November 11, 2018. A flock of redpolls flitted about in the bare branches of the willows and birches in the Lower Meadow.
Once the feeder is out, these winter birds begin to stop by. It usually takes only an hour or two for the ever-observant chickadees to spot the feeder, and their chatter attracts their allies.
Thanksgiving, November 26, 2020. We put out the feeder today. Within an hour, three chickadees showed up, soon joined by two blue jays and a nuthatch.
November 27, 2020.A goldfinch and a nuthatch shared the ledge on the birdfeeder. The goldfinch was just starting to show some yellow.
By the end of the year, the changing of the guard is complete. The robins, bluebirds, redwings, and mergansers have long since departed. The migrants have had their rest and continued on to who knows where. The red polls that flocked high above the Lower Meadow a month or so ago still drop by the feeder from time to time, perhaps in a flock of a dozen or more. The chickadees, finches, juncos, and nuthatches are regulars, and the downy and hairy woodpeckers split their time between the feeder and the big willow.
January 15, 2018, 12 degrees, 3pm. All the local birds came to the feeder for breakfast: five gold finches, a half dozen juncos, a brilliant purple finch, a couple of chickadees, a blue jay, and a white-breasted nuthatch.
Best take some time right now to top up your wood pile, buy a big bag of bird seed, and put the pole for the feeder out before the ground freezes. Then, have your camera ready to catch these beauties in the snow, by the feeder or, even better, on a branch surrounded by a clear, blue sky.
December 23, 2017. A female purple finch showed up just before Christmas. They’re usually not here until after the New Year.
January 15, 2018. A downy woodpecker has been going back and forth between the big willow and the feeder for the past few days.
During the COVID year, I had a lot of time to spend looking out the window at the feeder. One day in mid-December, I was surprised to see a starling that should have been gone a month or two earlier together with a new arrival that we all yearn to see. At first you may think this evening grosbeak is scowling at me for interrupting its meal, but I believe we’re seeing a wry smile communicating something like “Hiya, matey, good to see you again – and thanks for the grub!”
December 16, 2020, 10 degrees. A last, lonely starling showed up at the feeder, probably wishing he’d stayed with the flock that had long ago left the frozen north. I was much more interested in watching the season’s first Evening Grosbeak as he foraged for sunflower seeds under the feeder.
