Maggie's Farm

Country folk call them "Fisher cats," and blame them for the decline of Ruffed Grouse populations in the Northeast (about which they are wrong. Grouse and Fishers coexisted for millennia. I blame the grouse population drops on fire suppression, habitat loss - and the dang Coyotes who would not be here had we not killed all of the wolves).

Fishers are large members of the weasel family (the Mustelidae - stoats, badgers, otters, martens, mink, weasels, wolverines) - kinda like mini-Wolverines.

With the return of woodlands and the decline of fur trapping, Fisher populations are rebounding in the northern US, especially in New England (same as with the Black Bear). They are one of the few animals that kills Porcupines.

I've never seen one in the wild, but I'd like to.

Do they scream? It seems to be an Old Wives' Tale. Info about Fishers here and here.

Have any of our readers seen one?

Diligent students of Maggie's Farm have had the chance, over the years, to become familiar with many of the common birds of North America - or at least of the Eastern US. The common winter sparrows around my parts (not including Junco, which is a sparrow):

In winter at my feeder, I mainly see Song Sparrow

and White Throated Sparrow:

In some winters, we get a surge of Fox Sparrows, but not this year. This year, though, I have seen more Tree Sparrows than ever (that's the American Tree Sparrow, not the Eurasian):

The Chipping Sparrow is common here in the summer, but migrates south. I rarely see a Field Sparrow anymore these days. No idea why. Never see White Crowned Sparrow at my feeder either.

This is the common urban pest, once called the English Sparrow (they were a nasty import from Old Blighty):

A seasonal re-post -

Interesting bird, the Snow Goose. For one thing, it comes in a blue
and white form, and all sorts of intermediate forms, so was long thought to be two species. For another, its population has boomed in recent years such that it is destroying its tundra nesting areas, and so the wildlife managers are essentially begging people to shoot them. They were scarce in the 1970s.

There is almost no real limit on these birds, and it is now legal to use electronic calls to try to bring them into your field decoy spread during the spring Snow Goose season in the midwest. However, as it turns out, hunting makes no dent in their numbers.

When a flock of 100 or 1000 of them descend over your blind into your field decoys on a frigid dawn, it's one hell of an adrenaline rush and one hell of a shooting experience. A literal "blast," and you cannot reload your auto fast enough to keep up with the action of these determined birds who can, at times, seem quite undeterred by the sound of shotgun fire. They go down very easily, compared to Canadas which can sometimes coast or flap for a quarter mile with a fatal wound, which gives a retriever - or a fellow - a good work out.

 We say "They go down like a prom dress."

Our Brit cousins would love this shooting - they have, alas, nothing comparable for fun. Neither prom dresses nor Snow Geese. Our good pal Mr. Free Market would have the time of his life.

When 5000 of them decide to chose the seemingly identical barley field adjacent to the one you happen to be in for brainless goose reasons, it is a deeply frustrating experience and there is not a damn thing you can do about it.

A northern Canadian nester, this medium-sized honker is highly migratory across the US, especially in the Central Flyway. It is not unusual, these days, to see them flying over Vermont ski slopes in winter, or on Long Island potato fields.

The causes of the potentially self-destructive population boom are unclear, but may have to do with changes in the agricultural lands on which they winter. I wish I had a decent digital image of the size of the flocks of these birds, capable of truly blocking out the sun, but my best shots are from my pre-digital era, a few years ago. Beautiful, and awe-inspiring but, according to the biologists, a big problem too. They could be wrong; it might just be a natural boom and bust cycle like the housing market.

Being game birds, a word is always in order on cooking, since you must eat what you kill. These geese do not hold a candle to the delectable Canada Goose. The tough breast is best stewed, or crock-potted, and can be quite fine in a cassoulet.  But anything is good in a cassoulet on a cold snowy, blowy winter evening, with crunchy garlic toast and a few bottles of Cote Roti and a mountain of powerful stinky French cheeses on the side.

More about Snow Goose at CLO, whence the photo, here.

Our old post on Cassoulet is lost for the moment. Good hearty peasant food, best made with game sausage and game meat of any sort. We once made one with venison sausage, wild boar, and Snow Goose breast.

At the feeders today:

(Note Cottontail Rabbit gnawing on my roses. He's my official rose-pruner.) Tree Sparrow, Carolina Wren, Dark Eyed Junco, Cardinal, WT Sparrow, Red Bellied Woodpecker, BC Chickadee, Song Sparrow, Downy Woodpecker, Grey Squirrel (of course), Mourning Dove, Blue Jay.

Notable for absence: Goldfinch, Tufted Titmouse.

There are a handful of species of Juncos in North America. Most familiar is the Dark-Eyed Junco, formerly known as the Slate-Colored Junco. Why they changed that name is totally beyond me. Who can see their eye color?

Flocks of these sparrows - yes, they are in the sparrow family - are common around the US during migration and in winter, generally feeding on or near the ground, in fields, edges, and brush. The dual flash of white in their tail is an easy field mark in flight. They enjoy our bird feeders, and they do not mind snow at all.

They breed pretty much throughout Canada. Their arrival in the US in November, along with the White-Throated Sparrows, is a sign that winter is coming. They will begin to push north in March.

You can read more about these cheerful critters here.

Photo courtesy of R. Hays Cummins

A pal just bought this rugged machine for his hunting and getaway place in upstate New York. He's been fixing up the old leaky farmhouse for a couple of years. Nice to see a Maggie's Farm logo on it - naw, too bad - it's just a wide-assed Massey-Ferguson:

Here. h/t, Anchoress

Saw a Hermit Thrush hopping around my shrubs yesterday. Unmistakable with his chestnut tail and spotted breast. A few years ago I had one over-winter here. He would roost each night under a bush next to my chimney.

They are the only Thrush which winters in North America (unless you count Robins, which are in the Thrush family).

I am not being an internet hermit this season. We hit two very nice Christmas parties last night, another one tonight, and tomorrow we are taking my in-laws to a nice lunch and a show down in NYC. (Gwynnie always tells me I need to get out more, so I do.)

A quote from the good piece I linked this morning, Can environmentalism be saved from itself?

Before they were sucked into the giant vortex of global warming, environmentalists did useful things. They protested against massive Third World dams that would ruin both natural and human habitats. They warned about invasive species and diseases that could tear through our forests and wreck our water systems. They fought for national parks and greenbelts and protected areas. They talked about the big things too – such as how the world could feed another three billion people without destroying all the rain forests and running out of water. They believed in conservation – conserving this beautiful planet of ours from the worst of human despoliation – rather than false claims to scientific certainty about the future, unenforceable treaties and radical utopian social reform.

I agree with all that. Furthermore, we non-politically-driven conservation types usually did the work ourselves - without asking governments and powers to do it. We even bought machines to restore filled-in and drained marshes (and even helped to undo Saddam Hussein's destruction of Iraq's vast marshes, which he did to eliminate those too-independent Marsh Arabs who wanted to be left alone).

For one example, Ducks Unlimited. Something like 12 million acres of wildlife habitat under protection now in the US, Canada (and some in Mexico), done with private donations. (59 million acres "influenced and conserved" - that includes things like farmlands operated in habitat-compatible ways supervised and assisted by DU).  While warmist bureaucrats party in Cancun and try to figure out how to control the world, DU works to raise money and protect habitat from development and degradation every day.

Maggie's Farm supports DU.

I have a pal who is in the hospital, being treated for a serious case of Babesiosis. I visited him at the hospital yesterday, and determined that he would survive because I was able to elicit a few laughs - but it can be a very nasty and life-threatening disease (or a mild and insignificant one). He was on two or three IV antibiotics, and a morphine pump for the headache.

It's a bug like Malaria, and its vector is the tiny Deer Tick, same bugger as Lyme Disease. Dog ticks are annoying, but we woodsy and doggy people get those on us all the time. No big deal. Those Deer Ticks (actually, they are mouse ticks more than deer ticks) are the real problem for people who spend time outdoors.

Not to make light of a serious topic, but I can't resist re-posting "I'd Like to Check You For Ticks." It's a guy song, but the gals seem eager for Brad to check them. It must be lots of fun to be a country star:

The grand White Oak of eastern North America.

For the past 40 years, as farming has declined in the Northeast, it is not unusual to see one of these gnarly monsters among a woodland filled with younger trees. Sometimes in the midst of the stands of White Pines which often quickly fill abandoned pastures. The old White Oak is the sign that you are walking through an old cow pasture. Squint your eyes in the woods to eliminate all of the younger trees, and imagine dairy cattle chewing their cud in the shade of that old oak.

This is Frederic Church's View Near Stockbridge, MA, 1847:

I was good friends with one of these giants as a boy. Its lower branches reached almost to the ground, so that you could monkey up to 15' or 20' into the tree by going up those low limbs. Getting higher was difficult going - and slippery going from all of the moss growing on those big limbs.

New England is filled with second-growth forests, not too much climax forest yet. It's difficult to realize now, but in the late 1800s there was hardly a tree standing in rural New England other than in farmers' woodlots - and sugarbush.

My pic doesn't capture it, but this one has about a 5' diameter. We were hunting for Woodcock.

New York aristocrat Rosalie Edge was a crank, a Suffragette, and an ardent conservationist. A bio of her came out last year: Rosalie Edge, Hawk of Mercy: The Activist Who Saved Nature from the Conservationists.

Among the many causes she took up, one was protection of raptors from the mass slaughter of her era. She bought Hawk Mountain in Eastern PA and created the Hawk Mountain Sanctuary. A high point on the Eastern raptor migration flyway, Hawk Mountain had been a popular site for the slaughter of raptors by gunners who believed they were going some sort of good while having fun.

Hawk Mountain is now a foundation engaged in conservation education programs. It remains an excellent viewing spot in fall migration season. (Photo from the Hawk Mtn website.)

The right places to be in New England on a November weekend (preferably with gun and dog).

From a distance, I figured this was a flock of turkeys in an Ohio hayfield outside Mount Vernon last Saturday.

Nope. Vultures. Since I could not see any red on their heads, and because of their apparent sociable habit, they might have been Black Vultures. Or Maybe Turkey Vultures assembling around a corpse. Did not have my binoculars.

Not sure whether Black Vultures are regular in central Ohio.

I have a fatal disease in my large, probably 100 year-old Copper Beech tree. I have diagnosed it as Beech Bark Disease. I've seen the same bark disease on many old Copper Beeches recently - areas of shedding bark on the trunk and dying branches high overhead. It's a damn shame.

Maybe our most common winter sparrow in the NE, the White Throated spends most of his time on the ground and in low shrubs looking for berries, seeds and hibernating bugs. Likes bird-feeders.

He'll be coming down from the breeding grounds in Canada around now, and will give us a chance to hear his familiar pleasant songs (the link has songs).

A gallery of carnivorous plants. h/t, NRO - of all places.

The rather common American Kestrel - I still call them Sparrow Hawks - is our smallest raptor (size of an American Robin) and, when seen in the right light, our most colorful.

They are falcons, prey on insects, especially grasshoppers, small mammals, and small birds. Occasionally they can be seen in fields hunting from a hover but, more commonly, perched on the wires or branches from which they pounce.

Because of their preference for open spaces, their numbers decline where agriculture gives way to woodland. Their Eastern US population is down, probably due to the decline of farming in the Northeast.

They breed in nest holes, and move south from their northern ranges in the winter, making them "semi-migratory."

Their autumn southerly movements have been correlated with dragonfly migrations. Kestrels are happy to catch dragonflies although I don't know how it is possible. I had no idea that dragonflies migrated, but some species do - all over the world.

More about these fine birds here.

Regular readers know what a geology buff I am, although I do not post about it very much. My view is that you do not know what the heck you are looking at when you step outdoors unless you know some basic geology.

I was recently reminded about John McPhee's Annals of This Former World.

The book is a treat, but much better appreciated if you know basic Geo.

(As my friends know, my kids are all given my list of what they are required to study in college - or as AP high school courses - if I am to pay for their education. Intro Geology is on my list. Maybe I should post my Dad's Required Courses one of these days. It might stimulate some fun discussion here. Being a Yankee, I am cheap and hate to waste money on transient nonsense du jour. One reason I love Columbia and the U of Chicago is because they dare have an opinion about what kids need to know from the wisdom of past generations.)

Falconers have mini-cameras mounted on Peregrine Falcons in their wide-open habitats, and on Goshawks in their woodland habitats. h/t Never yet melted

No idea where this was. (thanks, Buddy). We photographed a scene like this (but without the bird-feeding) driving down from Whistler to Vancouver some winters ago. Awesome. Even the non-birders in our skiing group were impressed. 

The eagles were like gulls. These greedy fish-eaters have no idea that they are symbols.

Another pic below the fold

Some form of cutlivation of the Eastern (or American) Oyster has been going on for 150 years on Cape Cod, especially in Wellfleet. At first, this just consisted of importing wild oysters from elsewhere in their Atlantic or Gulf coast range, and giving them a while to absorb that special Wellfleet flavor.

There is no way that one small harbor could support the nationwide demand for naturally-produced Wellfleet Oysters.

As we sat on the deck watched the oystermen at work on their cages at low tide, we wondered where they buy the baby oysters.

I found out how the whole system works (link has great photos). The laboratory-bred spat from the hatcheries are bought by nurseries, then they are sold to the watermen who do the "grow-out" of the seed oysters. It is quite remarkable. No wonder they aren't cheap.

Photo on top: large scale commercial oyster grow-out in the southern US
Photo on bottom: oystermen tending their oyster cages in Wellfleet at low tide. Production is limited by town regulations, so there is no industrial-scale production and all are beach-bottom cultured instead of being grown on rafts, slowing their growth but making them tastier.