We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
It seems that the North American Grey (Gray?) Wolf entered North America from Asia. It prospered in Canada and the US for a long time. As I recall, the last wolf in Manhattan was killed in the early 1700s.
Re-introduction of Grey Wolf in the western US has been successful to the point that limited hunting and trapping is legal.
Not uncommon in the US, but not often seen. A pal had a couple roaming his back yard the other day in Maine. They are good tree-climbers. They are in the Mustelid clan - weasels to Wolverines.
Fishers are similar to the European Polecat. They do not fish - their name is from the Dutch fisse.
Migration goes on in North America through October and somewhat November. Except for hawks and a few other species, most migration occurs at night and up to 10,000 feet.
Some friends caught a couple of small (50-60 lb) Yellowfins about 20 miles east of Montauk last weekend. What fun. They happily ate chunks of the Yellowfin sashimi while cleaning them. That's the way to do it.
About Yellowfin Tuna . Tuna are one of a small number of warm-blooded fish.
We mentioned in our piece on cicadas that the Katydids would begin their singing in mid-late summer. They are beginning to go strong now here in New England.
Open that window, shut off the TV, and let those wonderful, soothing, romantic, sentimental, poignant, sleepy-time night sounds roll in to feed your soul. And engrave it in your heart - we only have so many Augusts in our lives. For the katydid, it's their one and only - no wonder they sing their hearts out, until a hard frost kills them all.
You hardly ever see a Katydid - they are well-camouflaged in the green leaves but they are all over. Early evening and nighttime are when they make their music - more like Kay-did than a three-syllable tune. It sounds as if they are singing to each other. With the crickets providing the chirping background theme, it's a fine choir out there right now, at night. The bugs own the night.
I encountered a flock of about 50 of them yesterday afternoon, twittering as they flew. Probably trying to fatten up before their trip to western South America. They can't perch, so you will only see them in the air.
My personal story about Chimney Swifts was in church, a decade ago or so, when one came down the old church chimney. Yes, during Pentacost service! The service was interrupted while I gently snatched the bird while he was trying to get through a closed window and carried him outside.
Heard my first cicadas of the summer this weekend - just a few, and just for about an hour or two, but these are probably early risers - first emergers from the soil, practicing playing their instruments. Maybe this will be a good year for them.
Some people call them locusts.
It means that in a few days we will be hearing the remarkably loud raspy buzzing from the tree-tops on every hot sunny day - the characteristic sound of high summer in New England, until replaced by the more refined Katydid's evening song as late summer comes.
We have both 13-year and 17-year cicadas - that's how long the two species live as larvae underground, sucking on tree roots, before they emerge to mate, breed, and die.
Their life is a metaphor.
Cicadas are edible, but I don't know anyone who eats them regularly except birds who have great sport chasing them when they fly from tree to tree. We often find their empty exoskelatons attached to tree trunks - as they grow, they crawl out of their old coat.
I saw a pair of them in my tall oak tree this morning, and I suspect that they are weaving one of their remarkable hanging nests in it again this year, as they did last year.
These exotically-colored Eastern songbirds are never common, but are regularly seen - but only if you look up into the tree-tops. One odd fact about these orioles is that they like to eat oranges. Some people put orange halves out to attract them.
Image: This male is a bit on the yellow side, more like a female. Most of the males we see in New England are more flame-orange. The Orchard Oriole seems unusual in New England and is smaller, darker, and tends to nest near water in the South and Midwest.
May is bird migration season up here in New England. That Sound ID called Merlin has changed my life. It is 90+ percent accurate, and even labels a Mockingbird's song imitations as Mockingbird.
Sure, I can ID most local warblers and vireos if I get a good look, but usually you don't feel like straining your neck for hours. One trick an older guy I know used to use is to lie on the ground under a big old oak tree with mini-binoculars (the kind we use for opera).
Below the fold, some of what Merlin heard with me early this morning near the shore (most confirmed with eyes too, or just seen). Gotta get out early for some of this:
It's early Springtime in New England. The male Robins are singing their territorial announcements in the morning, and the Song Sparrows are too. The world outdoors is waking up and feeling the hormones.
Interesting to me has been seeing Chickadees munching on the emerging rosebuds. Never seen that before.
New England is enjoying a gentle and lovely Nor'easter today. Breezy and snowy, but not violent at all and it does not really qualify as a "storm." It's weather, not "bad weather."
Why, one might ask, are cyclones travelling to the northeast named after winds coming from the northeast? Well, it's because the winds in the cyclone blowing up from the southeest are usually offshore as the storm, as these typically do, travels up the coast. Image below from this site.
Offshore, therefore, the winds are more likely to be from the southwest - wet winds. However, a Sou'wester is any southwest wind. The big cyclonic storm are still called Nor'easters, as in Perfect Storm. Here's a real Sou'wester (the hat):
The migrating male Redwings arrived today. I was looking for a Rusty Blackbird, but didn't see one.
I did not attend this late-January birding trip, but it seems to have been good fun. Never hurts to have experts along. They went to three or 4 spots, including Cape May. Separate lists for each location.
I don't really keep lists anymore, unless I have a specific reason to.
They are not rare across the entire US, but can be difficult to distinquish from their Sharp-Shinned Hawk relatives. Often impossible, so people like me just call them "Accipter sp.". In the US, there are 3 accipter species, all bird-hunters. The noble Goshawk, beloved of falconers, is the king. Rarely seen.
The song of the Wood Thrush came through my window Friday morning. A migrant, I think. It is a fine, musical spring sound which connects me with every spring I have lived through.
The Wood Thrush inhabits the dark Eastern forests of mature hardwoods and hemlocks, and is far more often heard than seen. His song is often described as a flute-like yodel, and indeed it is one of the haunting sounds from the woodlands. He forages near the ground for bugs, worms, and berries.
They do breed in the woodlands of the Farm but right now most of them are headed north. The great songbird (and warbler) migration to breeding grounds.
This member of the large family of Thrushes, which includes the American Robin, is heavily parasitized by Cowbirds, the Welfare Queens of the bird world.
Hear his remarkable song, and read more about him, here. If you do not really know birds, make sure you listen to the song on the site - if you spend any time outside, you will recognize that tune.
I've seen Manta Rays (a variant of Mobulas) leaping while swimming in Bermuda. They get together, presumably for mating. Their leaping is a show of prowess.
Not uncommon in the US, but not often seen. A pal had a couple roaming his back yard the other day in Maine. They are good tree-climbers. They are in the Mustelid clan - weasels to Wolverines.
A Woodchuck has moved into our place. I think he has a burrow beneath the garden shed. It makes me happy to see one around. 
Some friends caught a couple of small (50-60 lb) Yellowfins about 20 miles east of Montauk last weekend. What fun. They happily ate chunks of the Yellowfin sashimi while cleaning them. That's the way to do it.
We mentioned in our piece on cicadas that the Katydids would begin their singing in mid-late summer. They are beginning to go strong now here in New England. 
"Flying cigars." 
We had a tribe of 5 or 6 cute, almost tame Cottontail Rabbits until the past weekend. 
one of their remarkable hanging nests in it again this year, as they did last year.
May is bird migration season up here in New England. That 
People used to call 
The song of the Wood Thrush came through my window Friday morning. A migrant, I think. It is a fine, musical spring sound which connects me with every spring I have lived through.