early morning at the pond

Early morning at the pond actually begins in bed when, with the window open, I am awakened by The Great Purple Martin Dawn Song. Although this morning serenade is a well-known Purple Martin behavior, I find it extremely puzzling. This is not the mass chortling that emanates from a martin colony but a distinctive solo turn. A single bird has apparently flown over from the martin colony at the end of Bay Avenue (on the opposite side of our marsh) and has stationed himself directly over the house to execute an extended aerial coloratura aria of the most elaborate virtuoso sort. If you google "Purple Martin Dawn Song" you will discover that many purveyors of martin dawnsong recordings are anxious to assure you that playing these recordings will attract Purple Martins to your martin boxes. Maybe so. But 'our' martin colony is well established with all or most of the martins paired up, all available gourds or nest holes seemingly taken, and nesting activity well underway. Why would a single martin leave the colony before dawn to flit across the marsh and hover over our house in full martin song for the unlikely purpose of attracting still more martins to an already active and full-up colony some distance away? Makes no sense at all. Is it the same martin every morning or are different martins elected to the job every day? Or do several martins fan out in different directions to broadcast the dawn song in different areas? Are these unpaired birds looking for mates? Why is he there day after day? My guess is that the martins are defining and 'defending' their territory -- in this case, the marsh with its load of insects free for the taking -- against any possible incursion by martins from other colonies. This is just the opposite of the claim that the song is intended to attract other martins. In any case, it's a delightful way to wake up!

By the time, I get dressed, gulp down a coffee and get down to the pond, the dawn song is over although the birds at the colony are now extremely vocal and beginning to fan out across the marsh and creek. They are accompanied by Barn Swallows which come from the opposite direction and, in the early morning light (no sunrise this morning because of cloud cover), loop low over the pond and marsh. In general, the Barn Swallows take the lower level in grand loops and swoops while the Martins hunt in a more leisurely gliding fashion higher up, a neat partitioning of resources.

Back to the pond. A Willet is sitting at the top of the dead Red Cedar on the opposite bank. Oddly enough, my arrival on the scene does not seem to bother him in the slightest and this generally noisy bird just sits quietly watching me. He is often there first thing in the morning and I suspect he likes to spend the night off the ground and safe from predators. The Double-crested Cormorant that is fishing in the pond is, however, not so sanguine. As soon as I appear, he takes off. A Mallard pair -- presumably the same male and female that have been hanging around in past week or so -- slip into the water from the near bank and then take off as well to join a Great Egret in the open water in the middle of the marsh. Pine Warbler is singing away in the pines just back of the pond and the Common Yellowthroat has moved from his usual post at the head of the marsh to the nearby screen of bushes and trees. Maybe he is still responding to the rival Yellowthroat that was calling yesterday on the other side of the property but there is no sign of the second bird today.

Perhaps the most remarkable sighting of the days comes as I am standing on the dock just beyond the point where the outflow of the pond empties into the main creek. A sudden noise from our neighbor's creekfront catches my attention and I see a long strand of vegetation sliding down the rip-rap on the bank. A Muskrat has clipped a healthy, leafy length of vine -- twice as long as he is
-- and is hauling it down to the water! The body of the animal is almost invisible amidst the greenery so that it looks as though the plant is traveling by itself through the bit of beach and marsh grass and then out into the open water. If I had arrived just a few minutes later, I would have seen a mass of green vegetation seemingly propelling itself through the water on its own power! Instead of turning into the pond (where muskrats live in burrows in the bank), he heads in the opposite direction towards the neighbor's floating dock and instead of going around the dock, he dives under, pulling his treasured pile of greenery with him and disappearing from sight. Neither muskrat nor muskrat treasure reappear on the other side! I suddenly recalled that when Mark Cocker was visiting from England, we saw a muskrat with some vegetation in his mouth on the shore and then swimming in the same direction. It seems impossible to imagine but could this muskrat be constructing a 'burrow' under the floating dock? Or could human figures have seemed to block his access to the pond causing him to hide under the floating dock until the coast was clear?

Lots of questions!

Eric Salzman