snails and songsters

This morning I noticed something that I had not been previously aware of: the open areas of the marsh were covered with tiny snails. This is most likely Melampus bidentatus, the Salt Marsh Snail which feeds on decaying Spartina -- and indeed the snails appeared to be most numerous on mats of dead Spartina alterniflora left over from winter storms and spring high tides. The first question is, what has caused the seeming proliferation of these -- alas -- miniature molluscs? And how come I didn't ever notice more than the occasional snail before? And who feeds on these undoubtedly delicious shellfish? They are, unfortunately, much too small for human consumption and it doesn't seem as though the Raccoons (which frequent the marsh and scrounge the Ribbed Mussels out of the mud for food) have any interest in these miniature molluscs. Nor do gulls ever seem to venture into the marsh at all. But perhaps this a recent population explosion that has yet to attract the attention of the local herons or rails. I'll be watching to see what happens.

Bird activity continues to increase as young birds leave the nest and the adults resume singing. Most notable was a Red-eyed Vireo with a rather fanciful song repertoire; most Red-eyed Vireos are persistent singers but their short songs tend to follow a simple formula best expressed as a simple question-and-answer pattern ("Are you there? I am here. Do you care? Take a look. Can't you see? I am green."). This one tended to go much further afield musically speaking by using a much greater variety of songs, even suggesting little imitations of other birds. These vireos always appear in the spring and they are common nesters in the backwoods but they disappear by the end of May and I have never seen or heard any breeding evidence down here.

Catbirds have started to sing again after a considerable period of silence. And the place is full of family troupes of Tufted Titmice, chirping, buzzing and occasionally even singing. All three woodpeckers have been prominent players in the morning's activities with two or three Flickers popping up from the bushy edge by the marsh, Red-bellieds calling in the woods and even the strangely silent Downy Woodpecker making an appearance. They all, I suspect, have young but I haven't located any of the nesting holes this year.

Eric Salzman