…on the first warm night I stepped out to the back porch and heard in the distance a wonderfully high, thin sound, as clear as the first stars over the bare black trees.
~Kathleen Kilgore
They have been calling off and on for awhile now. That distinctive, high-pitched, clear call that means the end of Winter is near. It had been a single peep out front, maybe two at most, until Sunday night. Something was different, maybe warm weather really is here at last. I could hear them from the living room, from the kitchen, from anywhere in the house, and there was an urgency in their calls. So, I tried sneaking out the front door, only to cause a sudden silence. I walked over to the edge of the small pool in the yard and sat, and waited. Only a few seconds passed before the calls started again, first one somewhere in front of me, then one to the left, then another behind. Urgent indeed. I picked out the sounds of about four or five different male callers, but, try as I might, I could not find a single one in my flashlight beam. I have often been frustrated in this quest. I swear they can throw their shrill voices, making it difficult to locate their tiny, camouflaged bodies.
Spring Peeper calling (click photo to enlarge)
Spring Peepers (Pseudacris crucifer) are diminutive members of the treefrog family, with males averaging only about 3/4 of an inch in length. Most are marked with a distinctive X pattern on their light brown back. They often call from branches of vegetation a few feet off the ground, so I started looking in the shrubs and small trees surrounding the pool. The sweep of the flashlight beam silenced them for a few seconds, and then they started up again. I stood and moved a few feet to look around, and, finally, there was one of the songsters. He was calling from the back side of the trunk of a Red Buckeye tree about four feet from the pool. As I moved closer, he stopped. I made what seemed to me a poor imitation whistle of a peep, and they all started up again. Really urgent it seems. I took a few quick images and then went inside, leaving them to their compelling task of finding a female. I had planned to go back out last night, but the drop in temperatures seems to have put a temporary halt to the calling…maybe Spring really isn’t here quite yet.
Every spring is the only spring – a perpetual astonishment.
~Ellis Peters
The astonishment starts slowly, almost imperceptibly. The temperatures in this part of the world tease, and then take away the warmth, only to bring it back in a day or two. But the woods are more predictable than the thermometer. One of the first hints is that reddish tinge in the trees you see, usually while driving somewhere. The Red Maple flowers are amongst our earliest, and they signal the true change in season. The tiny red flowers lay scattered here in the yard now, mostly done for this year. But they awaken the spring consciousness in me, and I start to notice the other changes happening all around.
Spicebush flowers appear before the leaves (click photos to enlarge)
The tiny yellow puffs of flowers of the Spicebush, Lindera benzoin, appeared more than a week ago, a couple of weeks before the first leaves of this naive shrub. Spicebush can be found throughout our region, especially in the fertile soils along rivers and streams.
Spicebush flowers up close
Male and female flowers occur on separate shrubs, with only the female plants producing the bright red berries in Fall. Birds relish the fruit, and, dried and pulverized, the drupes were once commonly used as a substitute for allspice. The twig bark and leaves can be brewed into a tasty tea that purportedly has medicinal properties.
Spicebush Swallowtail caterpillar on its namesake plant
But I love this plant for another reason – one of its associates. The Spicebush Swallowtail butterfly lays its eggs on this shrub and on the leaves of Sassafras. This beguiling bug is one of my favorite caterpillars, complete with large fake eye spots, and a habit of folding the leaves to make a shelter, making it one of the easier caterpillars to find each Fall to delight visitors at the museum’s annual BugFest event. On our stroll last weekend, I was surprised to see very few of these supposedly deer resistant shrubs down in the creek bottom. It looks like they have been heavily browsed.
There were a few Hepatica flowers in bloom last week
But, to my delight, we did find a few Hepatica (Hepatica obtusa var. nobilis or Hepatica americana) flowers in bloom.
Hepatica flower
These tiny bluish-purple flowers are amongst the earliest of the spring ephemerals, barely poking their blossoms above the leaf litter. We probably found a half dozen flowers in our walk last weekend, so at least a few have survived the deer.
Bloodroot leaf is tightly furled before opening
A neighbor posted something on our list serve about Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) being in bloom this week. We did not see any leaves or flowers on our walk last weekend, but I did find a couple inside the deer fence yesterday. The single basal leaf pokes out of the ground tightly furled like a tiny textured flag wrapped around a pole.
Bloodroot flower bud
Each single flower stalk emerges wrapped in a single leaf. When the flower blooms, the leaf unfurls. The short-lived flowers remained tightly closed yesterday, perhaps awaiting a sunny day before opening up to potential pollinators.
Trout Lily clump in the yard
One of my favorite spring ephemerals is the Trout Lily (also called Dimpled Trout Lily), Erythronium umbilicatum. Blooming in early to mid-March, it can form dense colonies in areas like Eno River State Park and Johnston Mill Nature Preserve. There are a few plants that were transplanted into this yard during a plant rescue organized by the NC Botanical Garden. These volunteer efforts help rescue plants from a development prior to the bulldozers commencing their work. This is a great way to get plants for your yard and to save a bit of our native flora. Be sure to get permission from the landowners before doing any plant rescues.
Looking down on Trout Lily flower
The common name, Trout Lily, comes from the dappled leaves which are said to resemble the skin pattern of a Brook or a Brown Trout. Plants that will not flower have a single leaf, those producing flowers will have two leaves. I enjoy looking down on the flowers to appreciate their pattern.
Trout Lily flowers are closed early in the morning
Besides, you really have to almost lay on the ground to get a good photo of a flower due to their drooping habit. As with many spring flowers, Trout Lilies close each evening and may remain closed on rainy or cloudy days. This probably serves to protect their pollen and have it ready on warm, sunny days, when pollinators are apt to be more active.
Trout Lily flower
When fully open, the petals and sepals reflex upward, revealing the flower parts hanging beneath.
Trout Lily flowers remained closed in the rain yesterday
Yesterday, the flowers in the yard remained closed. The cool rainy weather may have slowed spring for a bit, but the next few days promise more astonishment. There is a noticeable reddish-pink cast to the twigs of the Redbud trees surrounding the house. Once they bloom, and that curtain is raised, the stage is set for the grand show to begin in earnest. If you get too busy for a day or two, you may miss some of it. Be sure to take some time to look around you these next few weeks, to observe and listen, and enjoy the arrival of the new season. It is truly a magical time to be a woods-watcher.
If Spring came but once in a century, instead of once a year, or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake, and not in silence, what wonder and expectation there would be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change!
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
This past weekend, a few of us took a stroll on the property to see what might be stirring in these first few warm days of March. The tree canopy is still absent but things are stirring in the understory, or what is left of it here in this heavily deer-browsed habitat.
Eleagnus leaf out (click photos to enlarge)
The exotic invasive shrub, Eleagnus umbellata, dominates several slopes on this property, creating thickets that are difficult, if not downright painful, to navigate.
Eleagnus leaf out gives the understory in heavily infested areas a light green band about head high
It is starting to leaf out, giving the slopes a light green tint from 3 to 7 feet off the ground. Unfortunately, deer do not seem to browse on this plant except in times of severe food shortages, so it has become well-established in much of the Piedmont since its introduction to this country in the 1830’s. Eleagnus crowds and shades out many of our native plants, causing a reduction in the diversity of our woods.
Painted Buckeye buds
But if you look closely, especially in the habitats approaching the creek bottoms or drainage areas, you will find one of the earliest native species to leaf out. Painted Buckeye, Aesculus sylvatica, is one of the dominant shrubs (or small trees depending on your viewpoint) in this part of the Piedmont. It begins to leaf out most years by mid-March, and last weekend it seemed to be right on schedule. The large terminal buds begin to swell noticeably in early March.
Painted Buckeye buds beginning to open
I love to observe and photograph the patterns of these beautiful buds and emerging leaves.
Painted Buckeye terminal bud openingTexture and detail define a Painted Buckeye leaf out
The textures and details of buds as they swell and open are incredible and contain so many facets, if you give them a closer look.
Buckeye leaves reaching skyward
Then the leaves begin to emerge, looking like a cross between ancient carvings and elegant architecture.
Painted Buckeye flower bud
On Sunday, only a few plants had the first hint of their yellow to cream-colored flower cluster peeking out from the umbrella of emerging leaves.
After two days, many shrubs now have visible flower buds
I went back out yesterday, after two warm sunny days, and the buckeye landscape had changed dramatically. On my short walk I saw only one unopened bud. Now there are flower buds on many of the stout twigs.
Painted Buckeye leaves are distinctive
And the distinctive palmately divided leaves have unfurled on the majority of plants. Since most of the parts of a Painted Buckeye have toxic properties, it is resistant to browsing by deer and most other mammals. The flowers do provide a valuable early nectar source for bumblebees, butterflies, and the first hummingbirds arriving back in our area. Look for these unusual flower clusters the next couple of weeks throughout our region, and be sure to stop and admire this hardy native plant on your next woodland walk.
If they aren’t the cutest critters and the perfect poster-child for vernal pool protection, I just don’t know what is!
~David Markowitz describing Spotted Salamanders
A friend and fellow naturalist came by this weekend and we went out Saturday night to have a look at the small pool out in the front yard. It is a shallow water garden, probably no more than six feet in diameter. These past few nights a couple of Upland Chorus Frogs have been calling as well as the occasional Spring Peeper. But we hoped to catch a glimpse of some of the Spotted Salamanders that have been laying eggs the past few weeks. As we approached the edge of the pool, a Green Frog jumped into the water, and the finger-nail-running-over-the-teeth-of-a-comb trill of a chorus frog became silent. Our flashlight beam caught some movement – a Spotted Salamander! Then another, and another, their sleek, dark bodies covered in bright yellow and orange spots. Then we noticed one clinging to a small twig beneath the surface and we crowded in for a closer look.
Spotted Salamander laying eggs (click photos to enlarge)
A female laying eggs! I had placed this particular small tree branch in the pool a couple of weeks ago as a potential egg-laying site for the salamanders that had already gathered after one of our earlier rainy nights. A day or two after picking up a spermatophore deposited by a male salamander, female Spotted Salamanders will begin to lay egg masses. She usually waits until after dark and then searches for a suitable site – small underwater twigs seem to be a preferred location. The female slowly crawls along the stick and then grasps it with her hind legs. She then presses her body against the twig as she extrudes the eggs, s few at a time, all in a gelatinous mass. Our female seemed to stop as we shined the light into her world, perhaps disturbed by this unusually bright bit of moonlight. After photographing and watching her for a few minutes, she crawled off into the leaf debris in the bottom of the pool.
Adult Spotted Salamander in hand
Another female was just out of the water on a mat of vegetation. We briefly held her for a picture, then released her back onto the safety of the water. I imagine these adult salamanders will be in the pool another week or two before heading back to their terrestrial habitat in the rich woods around the house, until next winter, when the rains of a January to March evening beckon them back to renew their mission to add more of their kind to our woods.
Spotted Salamander egg masses on the same twig from Saturday night
I went out this morning to check on the eggs and it looks as though our disturbance Saturday night was only a minor one, as there were many more small egg masses on that same twig. Now, to wait for the warm temperatures to hasten the development and hatching of the eggs into hungry salamander larvae. These fish-less pools are truly amazing habitats and ones worth protecting or creating.
Wherever you meet this sign [National Wildlife Refuge sign], respect it. It means that the land behind the sign has been dedicated by the American people to preserving, for themselves and their children, as much of our native wildlife as can be retained along with our modern civilization.
Wild creatures, like men, must have a place to live. As civilization creates cities, builds highways, and drains marshes, it takes away, little by little, the land that is suitable for wildlife. And as their space for living dwindles, the wildlife populations themselves decline. Refuges resist this trend by saving some areas from encroachment, and by preserving in them, or restoring where necessary, the conditions that wild things need in order to live.
~Rachel Carson
Snow Geese at Bosque del Apache NWR, NM
I never realized how special the month of March truly is…of course, much of the nation is caught up in so-called March Madness right now with the end of the regular college basketball season. Now, I like college hoops as much as the next person, but, given my preferences, I would probably rather be in some remote place enjoying wildlife or hiking or just being outside. And it turns out March has been a very important month in our history for people like me, people that enjoy using our public lands of parks and refuges. March 1 was the birthday of Yellowstone National Park, and therefore of the National Park System. March 3 was the birthday of Mt. Mitchell State Park and of the North Carolina State Park System, a former employer of mine, and the caretaker of many of our state’s premier natural landscapes. And I just found out that March 14 is the birthday of the organization that presides over my other favorite group of natural settings – the National Wildlife Refuge System – our refuge system turns 112 years old today. By Executive Order of March l4, l903, President Theodore Roosevelt established Pelican Island National Wildlife Refuge, along Florida’s central Atlantic coast, as the first unit of the present National Wildlife Refuge System (NWRS). I am a huge fan of NWRS as you may have guessed if you follow this blog. My favorite wildlife watching spot in my home state is Pocosin Lakes NWR, and I have shared the wonders and beauty of this wild place with hundreds of people over the years. But our public lands are facing many threats, from budget cutbacks to environmental challenges, and in our age of increasing population and increasing development pressures on our wild lands, the mission of the NWRS is becoming more critical to the wildlife they protect and to our own well-being. In honor of their birthday, I am sharing a few of my favorite images taken at refuge units in recent years. I encourage everyone to get out and visit a refuge (or several) in the coming months. I intend to do just that, so stay tuned. Happy birthday to a very good idea.
Black Bear in wheat at Pocosin Lakes NWR, NC (click photos to enlarge)Sunrise at Mattamuskeet NWR, NCGreat Blue Heron strike at Chincoteague NWR, VAMerlin on refuge sign at Currituck NWR, NCBlack Bear cubs at Alligator River NWR, NCRoseate Spoonbill and Northern Pintails at Merritt Island NWR, FLSandhill Cranes landing at sunset at Bosque del Apache NWR, NMMarsh Wren singing at Bombay Hook NWR, DEBlack Skimmer at Edwin B. Forsythe NWR, NJ
The flowers of late winter and early spring occupy places in our hearts well out of proportion to their size.
~Gertrude S. Wister
The change in our clocks this past weekend is one of the ways most of us know that spring is on the way in spite of the cold the past few weeks. Another are the first truly warm days like we are now having. But, for me, I know it is spring when I discover the first wildflowers of the season in our woods. One of the earliest is one of my favorites, the diminutive Spring Beauty, Claytonia virginica.
Spring Beauty (click photos to enlarge)
I saw this one yesterday afternoon, just barely poking its flower head above the leaf litter as I was walking through the yard. I immediately stopped and thought, it really is Spring! I got down on my hands and knees to take a closer look at the delicate beauty of the plants’ five petals. The petals can be quite variable, ranging in color from white to pink, but almost all have pinkish lines which appear to converge on the center of the flower. My flower has very faint lines, the so-called “bee guides”, which pollinators can see better than us. Research has shown that these lines on flower petals are used to guide the pollinators to the nectar when they visit a flower. A small ground-nesting bee collects the pollen from this plant and feeds it to its larvae. The aptly-named Spring Beauty Bee, and a few other species of small insects (especially a species of Bee Fly around here) are the primary pollinators.
And the pollen is quite noticeable on this species of flower – it is pink. You can see the pink pollen in the pollen baskets on the legs of the Spring Beauty Bee as it goes from plant to plant on warm, sunny days. The flowers tend to open mid-morning and close by late afternoon, and may remain closed all day on cloudy or rainy days. This helps preserve the pollen to increase the chances that a bee will visit on a sunny day and cross pollinate the plant.
Spring Beauty is one of the earliest of our spring wildflowers
In addition to the beauty and complexity of the flowers of Spring Beauty, it also has an edible small tuber which is quite tasty to us, and a variety of wildlife. It is a great small plant for your home garden as it is deer-resistant. It can add a splash of color to your woodland garden for a few weeks each spring, before the whole plant goes dormant. It then remains most of the year as only an underground tuber until you need another pick-me-up glimpse of a delicate spring flower after next year’s long winter. This tiny, often overlooked flower, is a perfect example of why we all need to become more aware of our native species and why we should try to plant local natives whenever possible. In today’s New York Times, there is a great op-ed by native plant guru, Doug Tallamy, on why natives are important, Take a look, it is a good read. Then get outside and learn more about native plants in your area, and consider planting some for yourself, and for your local wildlife.
But if one steps off the road, even a few hundred feet, and listens, there is a calm to the land, a certain wild rhythm that is closer to the surface than in most places.
~Renee Askins, speaking of Yellowstone
My favorite place had a birthday this week. On Sunday, March 1, Yellowstone turned 143 years old. Looking pretty good for that age, I must say. It was the beginning of what Ken Burns called, America’s Best Idea, the National Park System. Help me celebrate this grand idea by joining me on an unforgettable outing this June in Yellowstone National Park. Details are available on my Trips page. There are still spaces in both trips, but I will need to finalize details soon. Please contact me for additional information or to request a registration form. And please share this with others you think might be interested. Join me, step off the road a ways and listen, feel that calm and wild rhythm for yourself.
Here are a few more images to whet your appetite…
Foggy sunrise in Hayden Valley (click photos to enlarge)Yellow-headed BlackbirdGray Wolf departing Elk carcass with a scrapCastle GeyserBison in Little AmericaGray Wolf at Soda Butte CreekMountain Bluebird at nest cavityElk skull and antlersBull Moose browsing on aspen saplingsHarlequin Ducks at LeHardy RapidsGreat Gray OwlPine MartenDouble rainbow near Mammoth
Only with winter-patience can we bring the deep-desired, long-awaited spring.
~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh
I think I should have been more precise in my wishes in my last post, Until Next Winter….what I meant to say was I can’t wait until next winter at Pungo. I think I have had enough of whatever is happening out there right now here in the Piedmont and many of us are getting thin on our winter-patience. The snow this week was nice, although it prevented travel for many in this neighborhood because of icy roads, especially on the shady hills. But the freezing rain this morning, and now the cold rain, well, I could use a break from this as I am sure most of you could.
Cavity in maple tree (click photos to enlarge)
Yesterday afternoon I went out looking for a photo opportunity and ran across this cavity in a maple tree out front. I have seen squirrels running in and out on occasion, so I decided to wait awhile and see what might happen.
Gray Squirrel peeking out of tree cavity
After about 20 minutes, a tiny head popped out of the hole and stared blankly at the outside world. A young Gray Squirrel surveyed the scene, probably thinking the same thing I was…boy, it’s cold out here.
Squirrel glances at me
The squirrel then turned and faced me for a few seconds, no doubt wondering what I was doing out in these conditions.
Squirrel retreats inside nest cavity
The youngster quickly retreated back into the warmth of its shredded bark-lined domicile inside the safety of the tree trunk. I then heard that raspy chirring tone they use when upset. I’m not sure, but I think it was saying, enough already…I am guessing it had heard the forecast for today.
Bird migration is the one truly unifying phenomenon in the world…
~Scott Weidensaul
Snow Geese landing in a corn field on their wintering ground at Pocosin Lakes NWR (click photos to enlarge)
Having been stuck in the Piedmont the last two weeks with other priorities, I imagine the Snow Geese have left their winter home at Pocosin Lakes NWR and started their long journey north. The Tundra Swans have probably started as well, but my guess is that some are still hanging around with all this cold weather we have had lately. But, soon, they will all be gone, not to return until next winter. On a recent trip, some of the local weather experts, the trees, were telling me it was almost time for the birds to leave.
Red Maple flowers
And when the Red Maple flowers start to bloom, it won’t be long until the frogs are calling (actually, we heard some back in January) and the winter waterfowl start winging their way to the breeding grounds. So, as I sit here in the Piedmont on a snowy day when others are wishing for the sixty degree days of early Spring, I am thinking of the first cold blasts of air in November and December next year that will bring with them the amazing birds of winter.
Here is a short video of the last flock of Snow Geese I saw this winter, shot on my last trip two weeks ago, They remind me of animated snow flakes falling into the corn field…I hope those of you that are sick of the cold, ice, and snow can forgive me, but I can’t wait until next winter.
The sky is that beautiful old parchment in which the sun and moon keep their diary.
~ Alfred Kreymborg
Sunrise at Pungo Lake (click photos to enlarge)
One of my favorite things about eastern North Carolina is the big sky (maybe that’s why I like Montana so much as well). And I have seen some wonderful big skies at Pungo this year, especially at sunrise…
Snow Geese in front of the moon in the golden light of sunset
…and sunset. And so it was on my last trip. The morning had been spectacular at the swan impoundment. I wasn’t paying much attention at first to the goings on in the sky as I was so focused on the swan silhouettes on the water in the orange-gold glow of sunrise.
Tundra Swan in early morning light
After photographing the swans swimming and preening, I finally turned my attention to those starting to fly out of an adjacent area. The last bits of golden light soon faded, but not before I caught an image or two with it bathing the undersides of a passing swan.
Swans coming in for a landing
High clouds soon moved in and the light changed dramatically. Now a few small groups of swans were starting to land in the impoundment to join the hundreds of others already enjoying the swan spa. I love to watch them as they prepare for a graceful touch down.
Snow Geese circling the field
I left to head towards a favorite area and was surprised to see no cars in spite of it being a beautiful (albeit cold) Saturday morning. The Snow Geese had already flown off the lake by the time I arrived and were circling the fields in their usual erratic attempt at settling down. I took a few shots as they circled far across the corn and then started walking down the road.
Snow Geese blasting off from corn field
Suddenly, they all blasted off with the distinctive whoosh sound of thousands of wings. I stopped, hoping to see what might have spooked them. It can be anything, or seemingly nothing at all. I scanned the field edge for bears and the sky for any sign of a predator.
It was hard to tell what had flushed the flock at firstThe Bald Eagle finally came out into clear view
One thing that will always flush the flock is an eagle. Finally, from behind the cloud of flapping white and black, a flapping black and white appeared – a Bald Eagle.
Bald Eagle lowering its landing gear
The eagle cruised past the scattering Snow Geese and seemed intent on a particular spot on the ground in between the rows of standing corn. I had seen a few vultures in that area when I had walked by, and the eagle dropped down in the same area and disappeared behind the corn. Undoubtedly, the vultures and eagle had found a carcass of some sort.
Red-winged Blackbirds in dense flockSnow Geese and Red-winged Blackbirds
Now a new flock was added to the aerial commotion – Red-winged Blackbirds. The sky was soon a swirl of tiny black spots and noisy white blobs.
Red-winged Blackbirds showing their flashy sideRed-winged tornado
These huge flocks of Red-winged Blackbirds (and usually some other species mixed in) are one of my favorite things about Pungo in winter. There were probably close to ten thousand birds sweeping across the corn, and flying to and from the trees. The sound was incredible. And every now and then a tornado of red wings erupted from the field. As with the Snow Geese, this was usually caused by an aerial predator.
Northern Harrier and potential prey
In the case of the blackbirds, it is often a Northern Harrier cruising the fields looking for a meal. I could see two of them canvassing the corn so I set up my tripod and waited, hoping for a passing shot, especially of the male I could see on the far side. I have tried to get an image of one of the ghostly gray adult males for several years but they have always eluded me.
Male Northern Harrier looking for a meal
The male Northern Harrier finally sailed by my side of the field, gliding on his large wings, head down, looking for a bird or small mammal.
Male Northern HarrierA close pass by a male Northern Harrier
He swung by close enough for a few good shots, the sunlight catching his contrasting feathers and highlighting his bright yellow eyes.
Immature Bald Eagle
I soon encountered the Black Bear and Raccoon from my previous post and spent a couple of hours watching things in the trees instead of the sky. But I finally I headed back out to the fields to see what was going on. There were several eagles perched in trees around the field edges. A couple of people were now walking on the road, and they spooked a couple of the eagles, one of which flew close by me for a nice look. It was an immature Bald Eagle, recognized by the mottled whitish “arm pits” as it flew over my head.
Snow Geese in golden light
The light was getting beautiful, a golden glow from the low angle of the sun. I soon heard the loud, low whoosh made by the wings of the Snow Geese lifting off the lake. The show was about to begin. I could hear them coming and then the first of the birds flew over the tree tops, headed out to the corn. The light was gorgeous, turning the flock into a gilded swarm. The people on the road stopped to watch the birds fly overhead and then headed back down the path once the flock was across the field. I knew there were a couple of more eagles ahead of them and I figured these birds would soon fly, so I stepped up against a tree trunk to help hide my outline and waited, hoping one of the adult birds would fly by me.
Bald Eagle in late afternoon light
Sure enough, I saw the remaining two eagles head out over the field and one banked and headed my way. Then I heard more Snow Geese flying in from the lake. If only….
Bald Eagle and Snow Geese sharing the golden light
As luck would have it, the eagle circled back just in time for the Snow Geese to fly behind it, giving me a rare opportunity to see and photograph this spectacle three times in one day, predator and prey sharing the sky. But this light was by far the best of the day. The eagle spotted me and flew out over the tree tops, leaving me to watch in awe as thousands of Snow Geese flew into the field for one last feeding before nightfall.
Snow Geese returning to lake
Thirty minutes passed with the flock in a feeding frenzy on the far side of the field. Another eagle flew out near the restless birds and they once again exploded into the now pinkish-purple sky. Thousands of birds circled and then headed back to the lake for the night. It had been an amazing day of colors and sounds, with my focus on the water, forest, and sky of Pungo. While this is not a wilderness, it is a very special wild place to me. And I think it is important for us all that these wild places exist. Spending time in them helps us understand ourselves, and gives us insights into the workings of the world and our place in it. I found this quote by former Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas that does a good job of putting into words what a day like this means to me…
Wilderness helps us preserve our capacity for wonder
the power to feel, if not so see,
the miracles of life, of beauty,
and of harmony around us.
I will carry this sense of harmony for a long time to come.
Roads End Naturalist 