first day of summer

A beautiful first day of summer followed by a clear evening with fireflies a-flitting and glowing beneath the Strawberry Moon rising above the bay (looked a little reddish to me but apparently the name has to do with the season not the color). The first night of summer did not stay clear as thunderstorms rolled in and intermittent showers continued into the morning, forcing me to cut short my usual morning walk.

Tom Campanella, a distinguished author and urbanist, came to visit us yesterday and it turned out that he also has a keen interest in the natural world (he teaches at Cornell which is also the home of the famous Laboratory of Ornithology). We walked down to the pond in the late morning at a time when I would have thought everything would be quiet but there was some striking activity beyond the expected swallows, egrets, Willets and Osprey. The tide was low and, to my surprise, a Yellow-crowned Night Heron came zipping in across the marsh, landing on a mudbank right in front of us; it was the first of the year for me. The bird stood stock still, showing no sign of anxiety at our presence, as if it were calmly awaiting our departure before getting to its important heron business. You don't often get such a close-up look at this bird, a night heron in the middle of the day no less; its crown was barely tinged with yellow and still sported the remains of two nuptial plumes.

Eventually we left this magnificent creature to its own devices and took a walk into the marsh. Another surprise. A Clapper Rail was calling from opposite side of the marsh. It called at least three or four times but as much as I scanned the now fast-growing Spartina and the thin stand of Phragmites beyond, I could not find the bird. Clappers were present here earlier in the spring (I even caught two birds sunning themselves early one morning) and I had hopes that they might breed but this was the first evidence of their continuing presence.

A footnote: in the mid-morning as I was driving east on Montauk Highway just past upper Weesuck Creek, I saw a Turkey Vulture soaring overhead. The wings and tail were in bad shape with many missing or broken feathers but this TV could still fly in classic vulture style with uptilted wings. The damage to this bird's plumage could very likely have been due to the rigors of nesting, especially as Turkey Vultures tend to nest in confined spaces. Could there be a nest somewhere in the vicinity? Cathartes aura has started to breed on Long Island in recent years but the question remains open as to how far the big birds will travel from their nest site in search of food.

Eric Salzman