Horned grebe.
I’d only been awake a few minutes when I heard it: the clear, sweet, repeated notes of a northern cardinal. Mid-way through February, the day after Valentine’s, and this bird clearly had love on his mind. The song continued for more than five minutes, at least. I sort of got a little horny just by association.
But it’s still winter. High 20s (F) early, up into the mid-30s late. Crows stalked the half-bare yards, as usual, occasionally letting out their four- or five-note calls.
Penobscot Bay.
I didn’t get out, really, until the usual time, about 4 p.m. Decided on the breakwater today. Above freezing still, and only a little wind from the northwest. A couple cars were in the lot, and sixteen mallards were at the shore. Also a couple buffleheads and several herring gulls. About half-tide, and receding.
The harbor side held the rougher water for a change; the bay spread out like an enormous mirror. Right away I spotted three or four harbor seals on their customary rocks a few hundred yards out. Black ducks and red-breasted mergansers in the protected cove. Then I spotted the grebe. A solitary horned grebe diving very near the breakwater. I spent a lot of time watching it and taking pictures. Such an amazing-looking bird—even in its relatively plain winter plumage. Its red eyes sort of mesmerize.
Black-backed, herring, and ring-billed gulls patrolled the granite stones, up and back. They seemed particularly interested in urchins. They kept close watch as more intertidal real estate slowly emerged. On the harbor side I saw a pair of long-tailed ducks—and only a pair. Surprisingly, there were no loons.
Great cormorant.
Nearing the lighthouse I surprised a great cormorant perched on seaweed near the waterline. It stuck around for a portrait.
Returning, the wind picked up some, and some chop appeared in the bay. It occurred to me I’d seen neither common loons nor common eiders, so I scanned the water for a while—and sure enough spotted about a half-dozen of the latter. It wasn’t until I’d covered perhaps three-fourths of the return trip that I got my loon. A solo bird, harbor side. The loon, like the mergansers, kept plunking its face into the water, looking for grub.
The grebe was still diving in about the same place, though now amid newly exposed rocks. At right about 5, with the sun going down behind me, I watched a half-dozen species in a loose assembly dive and emerge, dive and emerge: black ducks, buffleheads, eiders, mergansers, goldeneyes—and a single horned grebe.
Today’s List
Northern cardinal
American crow
Herring gull
Mallard
Bufflehead
Black duck
Red-breasted merganser
Horned grebe
Great black-backed gull
Ring-billed gull
Common goldeneye
Long-tailed duck
Common eider
Common loon
Sky over Rockland Harbor.
Tags: American crow, black duck, bufflehead, common eider, common goldeneye, common loon, great black-backed gull, herring gull, horned grebe, long-tailed duck, mallard, northern cardinal, red-breasted merganser, ring-billed gull
