Maggie's Farm

As you can see, our bridge was washed out during the winter storms. Not entirely washed out, but undermined on the far end. The I-beams no longer reach the far bank. There is a 3-foot gap which the Ford tractor can not jump.

I got a consult from a local contractor who said it was a straightforward repair. He thought we could just jack it back up, add two I-beams to reach the far bank, and put in some cement blocks at low water in August to support the necessary extension. Around a $7000 job that he could do in two days.

But...he felt uncomfortable repairing it without a wetlands permit and an engineering OK. I explained that this bridge had been there for 60 years, and another bridge there for over 100 years before that, and that we had fixed it in the past without permits. He said I needed to consult an engineering firm to do the permitting and to ok his plan.

That has to be wrong, but instead of finding somebody else to consider the job, I did consult with a reputable local engineering firm. They inspected, and came back with an estimate of $27,000 for permitting and design, not including the actual repair. They said the permitting could take as much as two years, starting with the Army Corps of Engineers and ending with the Massachusetts Wetland Authority and the State and local DEP. Many hearings to be attended, apparently, by certified engineers. No guarantee, he said, that we could get a bridge repair permit in the end because the State wants "wild rivers." Mind you, this stream is in no way "navigable" except on barefoot, and is only as "wild" as a stream can be which winds through cow pastures and corn fields.

We do not have that kind of spare money in the farm's budget.

Meanwhile, one mile down the road, the state is widening a 1936 one-lane WPA cement bridge, about 20' long, over the same small river - a trout stream, really. Bulldozers, cement mixers, portapotties, portable office, road grinders, asphalt rollers, trucks, etc. Stimulus money. Modern infrastructure for a town of 600 permanent residents and more dairy cows than people. They have been working on it for four months, and it seems nowhere near done.

One problem is that we are required by our agreement with the local land trust to maintain the upper meadow with an annual mowing. We want to do that anyway. We can't get there now. There is no other way to get across the stream with a tractor because at least one side of the riverbank is always fairly high.

No wonder people get pissed off at government. However, I never consulted any government on this.

It's just a simple, ordinary repair. Property maintenance.  I am sorely tempted to ask some illegal Mexicans to just come in with two 6' I-beams, a jack, a welder, and some cinder blocks to fix it. Nobody would notice - or care. No, you can't see it from the road. I'll find someone who wants to help me fix it the old-fashioned Yankee way: patch it and make it last.

This ain't the Brooklyn Bridge.

I had the pleasure of seeing a Least Weasel scurry past the front of the garage yesterday, going from one pachysandra patch to another. They are not uncommon in their multi-continental, northern-hemisphere range, but I rarely see them. It makes me happy when I do.

Most often, they are seen hurrying across a country road.

Least Weasels like to be in cover, not out in the open. They are both daytime and nocturnal hunters, and active all winter in the snow, when they have all-white fur.

They are said to be the world's smallest mammalian predators, around 8-9" long. Bloodthirsty little guys.

On further thought, that guy could have been an Ermine. Not sure I can tell the difference because they move so quickly.

Across some of our farm fields. After a cold, rainy day the clouds began to clear out, leaving fresh snow on top of the Berkshire hills and a frost on the grass. That's our Climate Change. We had spent the afternoon providing a much-needed, if late, pruning to the apple trees (not in photo). I like a fruit tree to have plenty of air and light in the middle, remove crossing branches, but the darn suckers take most of your time.

Also put up 6 new Bluebird houses. On Sunday morning, one had already been claimed. Birds are not stupid. They pay attention.

Tree on the left? Black Willow, on the riverbank. Looks like we're going to have a herd of yearling Black Angus in that field this summer. Very handy, because they can go down to the river to drink and will need no care other than fence maintenance (which is obviously needed). Plenty of grass. Barbed wire.

Our farm boasts the lack of several modern amenities: no shower, just old bathtubs; no TV; no cable; no internet; and you have to get on the tractor and drive up a hill to find a cell phone connection. Peaceful. The only radio we get is NPR from Albany. They are crazy, but have good music. The wallpaper is 70 years old but my Mom liked it. There is more to life than materialism and conveniences and comfort, and my Mom understood that, deeply. We did break down and install propane heat 2 years ago. Decadent, but welcome after a cold rainy day when you come in soaked.

We're 20 minutes from Tanglewood. That's a good thing. Civilized. Cold lobster and champagne on the lawn.

North America hosts a number of species and subspecies of Cottontail Rabbits. Around here, we have the Eastern Cottontail.  (There is also one named the New England Cottontail, but I could not tell the difference.)

They are most abundant here in the later summer and fall, but their numbers nosedive during the winter mostly due to predation by owls, hawks, coyotes, and Red Fox. The cottontails' position on the food chain leads to an annual survival rate of around 20%.

When we see one hop out of its nesting "form" when mowing, we mow around it.

Here's a list of the rabbits and hares of North America

The forest-dwelling, nondescript and rather common Broad-Wing is rarely seen except during fall migration. They hang out quietly in deep woods and rarely soar except during migration. I saw one the other day, probably on his way north. They breed in woodlands across the Eastern US and Canada, migrate to South America in large flocks.

A good update on the challenges of preserving the Atlantic's stock of migratory fish.

It's a topic of great concern and interest to me. We have already seen serious depletion of some fish species (eg Halibut, Atlantic Cod, others). It's a free-for-all, and the scarcer the fish get, the higher the prices they fetch.

In the US, before protection the Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs were market-hunted year-round along with many other migratory shorebirds.

I suspect they tasted very good.

They are on their way north to raise their chicks in the tundra and boreal forests right now, and will begin to trickle back down in August on their way to the Southern US and South America.

Experts can tell a Greater from a Lesser by call or bill length, but I find it difficult unless they are in a mixed flock. Sometimes they are in flocks, sometimes solo.

Nice birds found in the nicest places: marsh edges, mud flats, water edges, etc.

Here's a video report about Little Saint Simons Island, with some outdoor video with our friend, the young naturalist Abby. It's a good video.

Travel and Leisure Magazine lists the place among the 500 best hotels in the world, and it's in that book, 1000 Places to See Before You Die.

A few more of my pics and comments about the Georgia barrier island.

Salt Marsh, early morning. Despite its short coastline, Georgia has 30% of the north Atlantic coast salt marshes. They go on for miles and are enormously productive. Very productive of Salt Marsh Skeeters too.

Lots more fun pics below the fold, with critters, Southern food, etc. -

My list from last week's Georgia trip, as I can best recall. The experts identified quite a few more than I could and went home with longer lists.

The mix of habitats is the key. The 7 mile-long island's habitats include ocean beach and dunes, salt marsh, a 30-acre fresh water marsh impoundment, Wax Myrtle scrub, and maritime forest.

A few comments for you bird people: There is no big warbler migration down there. I don't know why. It must be fly-over country for them. Also, there are no ducks now - they headed north a couple of months ago. There are no Bob White Quail and essentially no Wild Turkey. Seems perfect for them, but they are not there. Snakes are tough on ground-nesting birds.

That's not my photo. That's a Painted Bunting, quite common down there.

Birding is, I read, the fastest-growing hobby in the US. It gets people outdoors and moving and it can be as challenging as you desire. Expertise in anything knows no limit.

My list below the fold for those interested. An asterisk means a first for me.

 Heard a Screech Owl calling early in the morning last week. I hope he finds the nest box I put up. They didn't find it last year.

The tiny Screech Owl lives across America, as long as there are plenty of trees around. If you want to attract a family of them to live at your place, put up a nest box for them. They do not mind living in suburban areas. I recently learned that they are breeding in New York's Central Park.

Now would be the time to do it. The box pictured is from Best Nest.

From this site:

It's important to place the box correctly. The natural cavities that screech owls choose are typically 12 to 20 feet above the ground and in deep shade. As the female incubates the eggs, the male is apt to spend the day roosting in dense foliage within about 20 feet of the nest. After you've placed an inch or so of dried leaves in the bottom of the nest, hang it at least 10 feet up on the trunk of a large tree. Try to place it away from sidewalks or doors, since the owls vigorously defend their nests against perceived threats. In fact, when the young are near fledging, some unusually spunky adults may swoop down at people or pets who wander too close, even raking them with their claws. So while placing the box in as secluded a spot as possible is good for the owls, it might be better for us, too.

I greatly enjoy hearing them at night. A Great Horned Owl hooting had done the same to me a few weeks earlier. Good stuff. The mysterious world of the night.

No you don't, and you cannot without falling victim to the Pathetic Fallacy. We cannot know the world they live in. They are aliens.

We can enjoy dogs, but cannot truly love them because we cannot know them: Man and Beast.

One quote:

For 2,500 years it has been known to the students of nature that the more one learns about animals, the more wonderful they become. The observation stands confirmed by the instruments of both science and art, but the animals are most instructively perceived when they are seen, as they were by Beston from the beach on Cape Cod, as other nations complete in themselves, “gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear.”

The Chippies arrived here today, up from their wintering grounds in the deep south. You don't need binoculars to identify a small sparrow sitting high in a pine tree, even if he is not delivering his territorial chipping call.

They breed throughout most of the US.

In March, our White Throated Sparrows and Juncos begin heading north to their breeding grounds, and our Song Sparrows begin arriving from their winter haunts somewhat further south in the US.

The ground-feeding Song Sparrow can be seen throughout the US. The tweety mating call of the male in Spring (here) is familiar to everybody who steps outdoors.

It is theorized that the guy with the best song gets the hottest chicks.

As we head into Spring with snow still on the ground and snow predicted for tomorrow, here's what I'm seeing here in Yankeeland:

Carolina Wren
Cardinal
Tufted Titmouse
Chicadees
Mourning Dove
Red Wing Blackbird
Cowbirds
Purple Grackle
Song Sparrow
Downy Woodpecker
White Throated Sparrow
still some Juncos
Robins in flocks, mostly males
lots of Golden Crowned Kinglets
Blue Jay
Sharp Shinned Hawks
Mockingbird
House Finches
Goldfinch
White-Breasted Nuthatch
Canada Geese on the move, overhead

As my brother and I were beginning to clean out the parents' garage, at my Dad's request, yesterday, we found 8 wren and Bluebird houses. I'll put a few up here at the HQ, and the rest at the farm on my next trip up. We have a large Bluebird contingent up there but they have to compete with the Tree Swallows for the nest boxes. Birds compete for housing, just like people.

I agree with Anthony Watts that this TED talk is remarkable.

Feel free to punch holes in his argument, but based on his examples it seems to work dramatically - watch his example in Mexico. A guy who exterminated 40,000 elephants by mistake deserves to be listened to.

On a micro, non-desertification level, I have noticed that the quality of the grasses on one of our 50-acre fields at the farm has deteriorated visibly since we have not had cattle there. Of course, our New England meadows are naturally woodlands and not natural grasslands.

Painting on top from this site.

It's not in as bad shape as Detroit, but Blue State and Blue (corrupt) local governance have driven most of the jobs away - along with vast numbers of middle- and working-class people. (The prosperous fled in the 50s and 60s.) Therefore, there is no "housing shortage." Housing is cheap, but they will kill you with the property taxes. Thus the old city has no vitality or appeal whatsoever except to urban explorers like us. Death spiral.

What does a pilot do in a death spiral?

The solution is not to bulldoze the city. It's to bulldoze the government. However, at this point the government is basically in the control of government unions and welfare recipients, all feeding on the dry bones of the cadaver. Thus, despite its amenities and opportunities, basically politically hopeless. It's sad.

If they appointed me Dictator of Bridgeport for a few years, I could begin to fix it. Change is good!  The first thing I would do is to create a citywide enterprise zone with no corporate or business taxes. Second, I would cut property taxes in half. Might be tough going for a couple of years until markets react, and bankruptcy might have to happen because sometimes you need a fresh start. Third, I would eliminate all government housing. Rents are so low there, anybody can pay them on a welfare or disability check. Fourth, I would make government unions illegal. Fifth, I would prosecute the local Mob with vengeance, no mercy. Everybody knows who they are, and people claim they are in bed with the unions. Sixth, I would eliminate all zoning regulations. Seventh, I would make all schools charter schools - no government-controlled schools. Eighth, a cop or guard on every block, with stop-and-frisk.  Well, I could go on and on, but the general idea would be to return such a city to the policies which existed when it became a thriving city, before the socialists, planners, and taxers took over when they realized they could tax and plan the place to death.

It would be an interesting experiment. If it failed (but how could it be worse?), I'd take the fall.

This row of old buildings appeared fully-occupied by Hispanic immigrants, neat, clean, and pleasant but nowhere to go except the abundant old churches, and no street life.

Government policies can kill cities. From Mead's New York No Longer Skyscraper King:

 ...those worried about the future of what George Washington once called the “seat of empire” should take heart. New York has a plan: more regulations, more taxes, more spending, raising the minimum wage, and raising transit prices. And we’re already seeing the results: a vanishing middle class, mass exodus of businesses, and an unhealthy dependency on a rickety financial industry.

Sounds like a recipe for success.

The northern states had wanted NYC as capitol. The compromise was reached on a swamp in Virginia.

It's a month or two early to post about bird migration, particularly passerine migration, here in the northern hemisphere, but I did find this excellent review of the most recent science on the topic:

Birds that migrate at night enter a state of sleepless mania and gorge on foods by day, behaviors mediated by their biological clocks

Photo is our common Black and White Warbler, who will be passing through here, on the Atlantic Flyway, in May.

By 1880, New England had been almost completely deforested. Moose, Wolf, Black Bear, and Wild Turkey were gone or limited to tiny habitat islands. Deer were rare. Then profitable farming moved west to the rich plains of Ohio and Indiana. Good-bye to rocky New England.

With reforestation, Moose and Wild Turkey have rebounded, and Beaver, Bear, and White-Tailed Deer have become pests in some areas. So have the highly-adaptable coyotes, who moved into wolf territory (coyotes were never native to the Northeast) and are now considered pests in New England with generous hunting and trapping seasons for eastern coyotes, coydogs, and coy-wolves if any.

Those critters are all Wolf food, including coyotes. Maybe not the bears.

The new coyotes of the Northeast are larger than those of Western US and Canada, may have a few wolf genes, and a large male is easily mistaken for Wolf or German Shepherd.

There is only one species of Wolf in the world - Canis lupus. The species has - or had - a global reach, with all of its various subspecies (subspecies means races - of which the domesticated Dog is one. The Grey Wolf and the Eastern Wolf are probably the same subspecies, but there is much controversy about wolf subspecies genetics).

All domestic dogs in the world were genetically engineered from the Eurasian Grey Wolf subspecies, including African domestic dogs, beginning around 14,000 years ago. Wolves - dogs - were domesticated before any other animal but your average wild wolf cannot be civilized, even if raised from birth by man. Humans must have found the rare wolf individuals with civilizable genetic flaws as in photo below:

North America's Grey Wolf was an immigrant across the Bering Strait from Siberia and, along with the Cougar, were the dominant predators across the entire US and subarctic Canada.

Dominant predators require large ranges of undeveloped land, preferably without roads and cars. The Cougars will have a tough time repopulating the Northeast, but the Wolves can come down from Quebec. In dribs and drabs, they have been doing so. Probably lone wolves. Visual reports are not reliable, but DNA testing is so the animal has to be shot or trapped to be tested to distinguish the animal from a coydog, a coy-wolf, etc. I don't know why coyotes and wolves can interbreed if they are separate species.

There are no records of confirmed Wolf breeding or pack-forming yet in New England, but these occurences would not be surprising, and would be welcome to many. Wolves remain common enough in Canada to have popular hunting seasons for them. Wolves leave people alone, unlike foolish Cougars who sometimes confuse a jogger with a deer and eat them up.

Here's one report from the Adirondacks

About wolves in Maine

Some reports re wolves in New England

I read in Mayflower about how the Pilgrims were astonished by the woodland autumn blaze of color. Europe doesn't have this. The storm will probably remove this year's magnificent display prematurely.

He also mentioned that America has 30 million Mayflower descendants. Not an exclusive club.

This is in one of our gardens:

NYM's post about a diving - or suicidal - Elk in Pennsylvania reminded me about the Elk herds of the Eastern USA.

In the past, Eastern Elk were abundant throughout the eastern US, but the subspecies is probably extinct.

Current Elk herds in the east are imported Rocky Mountain Elk, somewhat smaller than the original, but seemingly able to adapt to eastern woodlands.

The Pennsylvania herd numbers around 800-1000 animals.

More about Elk in the eastern US.

I have eaten Rocky Mountain Elk steaks. Tastes like Elk, ie, similar to Moose. I have friends who hunt them. Bow, not rifle. Good stories, good adventures.

Took this lousy pic of a majestic White Oak on Saturday, growing on the edge of the marsh, on Constitution Island.

White Oaks are happy to grow near wetlands, and their acorns feed all sorts of wildlife. They are said to live 600 years. I have seen some huge ones surviving in woods where there had been pasture 100 years ago.

Kayaked down the choppy and windy Hudson a piece from the charming, granola-feeling old river hamlet of Cold Spring, NY (which was packed with cheerful strolling, shopping, and eating people) then snuck under the Metro North Hudson Line bridge into Constitution Marsh just before the tide got too high to get under it.

They rent kayaks on the river. We rent kayaks. Kayaking on ordinary waters is easy for anybody. We did a good 4 hours. The rental guy said "Use your core, not your arms, and find your core rhythm." We are not proficient yet, but we sure enjoy it. The pros give the same advice for tennis, but I still use my arms. I have no core rhythm for anything.

Those hills are the Hudson Highlands, on the other (west) side of the river. Storm King. Dramatic. The Hudson there is still tidal, but low salinity. Can barely taste salt when you splash yourself.

Did not see a lot of migrants - no Teal yet. A migrant Harrier, Osprey, and some Spotted Sandpipers, a Sharpie, plus the resident Bald Eagles, Cormorants, Black Ducks, Mallards and herons (Great Blue and American).

A recurrent thought was that this must have been great for October and November duck hunting before the Audubon Society took it over. Good for Rail shooting too. The marsh is full of Wild Rice and Cattails. In the 1830s, some guy tried to make it a Wild Rice farm, hence the kayak routes and the abundance of Wild Rice.

No powerboats allowed. You could get lost in there if they did not have water-trail markers because it is a water maze. Good fun. We kayaked down to the southern lake, and visited the Audubon lodge there (and grabbed a coffee, chatted with the naturalist, and used their facilities).

If you kayak down the marsh around 40 minutes, you turn a corner and what do you see, across the marsh, across Constitution Island, and on the other side of the Hudson?

As I recall, George Washington picked that location. The big river is narrow and defensible there, due to Constitution Island poking into it.

I know two places on Cape Cod where you can see these big snakes in numbers on a sandy bank on a warm day in early Spring, trying to warm up from their hibernation by lounging lazily in the sun and looking for mating partners.

When it's still cool, they don't move much and do not display their lightning speed: they just glare at you and maybe twitch their tail.

It is indeed startling to encounter ten of these guys together, some 5-6' long, as you are walking along a sandy trail in early Springtime. They like edges, with some cover nearby, like water nearby whether salt or fresh, and they will climb trees if they feel like it. Entirely harmless (unless you are a small animal or a small snake: like Kronos, they will eat their young), but big - and always a wonder to see a big one and the average wife will jump to you for protection. That's always a good thing.

Subspecies of these handsome snakes are found across America, mainly east of the Rockies. You can read more about the Black Racer here.

We could use some more of them around here to eat the damn Norway Rats, but they'd eat our cute Chipmunks too. I noticed that you can buy them on the internets in case you want some around your place. With a little luck, they will eat the kittens too.

Seen a Black Snake lately? They are daytime hunters and no rat can outrun them. Wonderful critters which usually startle you when you encounter them. Most of the time, you don't see them because they stay out of your way.

Great Whites inhabit all of the oceans of the world, from the Arctic to the Antarctic. Despite the really, really scary crisis of climate change, New England has seen a huge increase in the seal population over the past couple of decades. The last time I swam in the ocean beach in Wellfleet, there were large Gray Seals all around us, gamboling in the surf. Quite amusing.

Seals attract the Great White Sharks which like to feed on them. They are shark bait. Can a shark distinguish a person from a seal - and why should it care anyway? Food is food. Great white sharks send Cape swimmers running.

My theory: get out there and have fun in the chilly water. The odds are strongly on your side.