But the birding was good and on a side trip down to the canoe put-in at the Standing Pole Dam site we were rewarded with three Solitary Sandpipers.

Oh, and Elle thinks she saw a blackfly. I didn’t see it so maybe she was mistaken. They are elusive little devils.

But the highlight of the weekend is surely the Cape May Warbler seen at Lake Eaton. Sitting quietly at a spot where a stand of hardwoods comes up against the large Pines and Hemlocks near the shoreline I watched a steady stream of small birds foraging along the edge. The Cape May was the most distinctive. A Blackburnian flitted by, and might have stolen the crown, but it didn’t stop for a photo.

I initially thought that a female Cape May Warbler was also present but I got only a passing look, and no pictures, so maybe not. Looking at eBird I see no records of Cape May Warblers nesting in the central Adirondacks so these are migrants.

In April, birding really takes off here in the central Adirondacks. Different migrating birds appear each week: Mergansers, Song Sparrows, and Sapsuckers are among the first to arrive, and by mid-month, loons, Hermit Thrushes and Merlins show up. Bird migrations are affected by the weather, but we can see nightly updates on the eBird and Birdcast websites.

https://ebird.org/home

The “live” bird tracking data is found on the affiliated BirdCast website.

eBird is the face of Citizen Science at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Birdwatchers from around the world submit observations, and there are currently over two billion records in the database. The data is used by researchers and it can also be used by Adirondack birders hoping to know when favorite species will re-appear.

The data collected via eBird can be downloaded for detailed analysis and it can be viewed interactively on the eBird website. You can look at population trends, learn where a species is most abundant, and gain an understanding of where our adirondack birds spend their winters. Most of the birds we see fly off for the winter and they face threats on every leg of their journeys, and on their wintering grounds as well.

eBird is a Citizen Science success story. Millions of people submit data that enables never before possible research. Which makes this a great story for me to start with as I shift the focus for this channel towards participatory science. It’s easy to be overwhelmed by the vast amounts of information, mis-information and noise that comes at us every single day, but this project demonstrates how non-experts can participate in real and useful science.

And it’s not just about bird watching. Citizen science is the name commonly applied to large scale projects such as eBird, but I prefer to call it community science. There are real issues, local issues, where research designed to inform our understanding of environmental and economic issues can help shape our public policies.

Science can and should play a role in guiding public policy, and I want to encourage getting your hands dirty as we look for solutions to real-world problems.

Here a few of the topics I plan to consider in future videos:

• Wilderness; What is the value of wilderness and do we need more in the Adirondacks?

• Overuse and underuse; What can DEC do to better manage recreation in the Adirondacks?

• Invasive Spices: Non-native species alter our local environments and we spend lots of money on mitigation. What is working? What else might be done?

• Salvage Logging: Does it reduce fire risk? What will we do the next time a lot of trees blow down?

• Some birds are coming and some are going: Why are some species are declining while new and different species are moving in

eBird

eBird is a website and phone app and there are many features. You can track your own observations by submitting checklists and you can access the vast trove of data in multiple ways. Given the amount of data, and the different ways you might want to slice it for analysis, there are some complexities when getting started. A number of videos available on YouTube or via the eBird site itself provide complete instructions.

If you are interested in obtaining data for analysis, or using the online tools, this video, the first in a series, is very good. Many other video and written sources are available, some are better than others.

You must register and obtain a free key to download data.

The Adirondack Center for Loon Conservation

https://www.adkloon.org/

From a low in the 1970s Loon populations in the Adirondacks have rebounded and loons are now seen, and heard, on dozens of lakes and ponds. I’m most familiar with Little Tupper Lake, and there appear to be multiple nesting pairs present there. The Adirondack Center for Loon Conservation is a source for updates on conservation efforts and the organization runs an annual count of loons for which volunteers are needed.

Anna’s Hummingbird

Anna’s Hummingbird is common in the farm country west of Portland Oregon. Unlike the Ruby-throated Hummingbirds we see here in the Adirondacks they overwinter; going into a hibernation-like state of torpor when it gets cold.

With the assistance of the Merlin Bird ID app on my phone I was able to see over 60 bird species during the visit. My old ears don’t hear bird songs and pips as well as they used to, but Merlin hears them. And knowing which species are around makes it possible to find birds I would otherwise miss. The ability to recognize bird calls and songs is the super power that expert birders rely on, and Merlin makes that available to everyone.

Bewick’s Wren

Much like the House Wrens we see here in the Adirondacks the Bewick’s Wren has a complex and melodic song. Hearing a wren trilling away in the underbrush is a sure sign of spring.

Lesser Goldfinch

Despite the name, the Lesser Goldfinch may be even more distinctive than the American Goldfinches we see here.

As for the lessons learned, watching a bird closely, hearing it, seeing the identifying marks and the way it moves builds familiarity. This makes it much easier to recognize that species in the future.

Bushtit

These tiny birds are easily recognized by their size and behavior. If you see very small birds foraging in flocks of from five to 20 birds, you are almost certainly looking at Bushtits. Bushtits are difficult to photograph because they never stop moving. Probably a good idea for a bird only slightly larger than a hummingbird.

Two species of Kinglets, the Ruby-crowned and Golden-crowned, are both present in the Adirondacks and I see them here from time to time. But after an hour watching a Ruby-crowned stake out its nesting territory I gained a new appreciation for this tiny bird. And seeing the bright red crown sealed the deal. I had never actually seen this bird’s name-sake ruby-crown before this trip.

Golden-crowned kinglets are more distinctive, and easy to recognize if you get a good look, but they tend to stay up in the tree tops making that difficult. However, the Merlin app’s identification of the faint calls while I was able to see the bird singing high above made for a confident ID.

Ruby-crowned Kinglet

When this bird is really worked up the crown can be even more prominent, but at least I glimpse of the red.

It was also fun to see Chestnut-Backed Chickadees. If the Adirondacks were to have a bird mascot I would vote for the Black-capped Chickadee. Chickadees are outgoing and fearless and the black-capped variety is ubiquitous. A second chickadee species, the Boreal Chickadee, is also present in the Adirondacks, though it is increasingly rare. This has made the Boreal Chickadee my nemesis. I’ve traveled to likely places several times to try and see this specific bird but, so far, no luck. Seeing the Chestnut-backed variety in Oregon gave me hope, and reinforced my rule; never let a chickadee pass without taking a closer look.

Chestnut-backed Chickadee

Northern Shoveler

A bill that only a mother could love

Green-winged Teal

The central Adirondacks is not a great place to see the water fowl and shorebirds. In summer we have loons, geese, ducks, herons, bitterns and a single wader; the spotted sandpiper. But the vast array of water birds seen in Oregon is enough to make your head spin. Looking out over a small pond filled with Northern shovelers, Cinnamon and Green-winged Teal, Coots, Widgeons, Hooded Mergansers, Wood Ducks and a half dozen species of long legged wading birds had me searching through my bird books for IDs. Among the waders, the Lesser and Greater Yellowlegs are distinctive, making it easy to say, “it’s a yellowlegs”. The trouble comes in telling the two species apart. The Greater variety is a bit larger, but that is only obvious when you see both species side-by-side. We have a similar difficulty separating Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers. The size and shape of their bills is a distinguishing feature but you need familiarity to be able to recognize that.

In the case of the yellowlegs the best differentiator is the call. At the Wapto Lake National Wildlife refuge I found myself standing alongside a couple of birders debating whether the bird in front of us was a Greater or Lesser Yellowlegs. I commented that Merlin identified it as a Lesser. Their disappointed expressions provided yet another learning opportunity. It might be okay to use Merlin for casual IDs, but real birders were not going to stoop so low. Oops.

American Coot

Common and unmistakeable

Cinnamon Teal

Greater Yellowlegs

(at least that is what Merlin thought it was)

This trip also reinforced something I’ve long known about bird photography. The key to getting good bird pictures is patience, watching and waiting for the right opportunity. Especially when you are trying to photograph small birds lurking in dim places. It’s tempting to wander around trying to get pictures of whatever appears in front of you, but the better approach is to identify a place where the bird might land, with the lighting and background you want . Then be ready to get the photo if the bird cooperates.

Red-breasted Sapsucker

Sapsuckers had worked this tree over pretty hard

naturalist: a person motivated by curiosity to learn about nature

If, like me, you’re motivated by curiosity to learn more about nature, the warmer months can overwhelm the senses. The biodiversity of the Adirondacks is not huge but in July, when everything that lives is working to secure the future, there’s a lot going on.

Winter simplifies things. Some mammals are hibernating and the ones that aren’t leave helpful tracks in the snow. Many of the birds we see in summer have fled south, only about 30 species live year round in the central Adirondacks. Plants are buried under the snow and, best of all, the insects are laying low.

It’s easier to focus, which may be why I’ve noticed the Blue Jays.

What’s up with the Blue Jays

We have several bird feeders around the house and as winter 2025 has settled in Blue Jays have been ruling over the feeders. Blue Jays are a common and highly visible species and their presence stands in contrast with last year when we saw no Blue Jays in our area from November thru mid-April. And it’s not just that they have suddenly found our feeders. Over the past two weeks I’ve seen Blue Jays along the Sabattis road and squawking overhead while I skied the Cedarlands trail.

This got me wondering, do Blue Jays migrate to warmer places in the winter, or don’t they? And why some years and not others? The answer turns out to be more interesting than I had imagined. The Cornell All About Birds website notes, “Some (blue jays) are present throughout winter in all parts of their range. Young jays may be more likely to migrate than adults, but many adults also migrate. Some individual jays migrate south one year, stay north the next winter, and then migrate south again the next year. No one has worked out why they migrate when they do.”

That was unexpected. I’m familiar with irruptions and this is different. Irruptive migrations are believed to be driven by food availability and that does not appear to be what motivates the Blue Jay behavior. It also does not appear to be directly related to weather. When Blue Jays do head south they do so in mid-fall, before harsh weather could explain their departure. It seems that Blue Jays, like other members of the corvid family, move to the beat to their own drummer. This makes me appreciate them even more.

Some years we see them, some years we don’t. This picture and the next one are from 2022.

Blue Jays push the Chickadees and Nuthatches around, but they defer to Hairy Woodpeckers.

https://www.nrcm.org/blog/mysterious-migration-blue-jays/

I’m Kent Stanton, photographer, writer, naturalist and outdoor wanderer living in the heart of the Adirondacks and I want to share some of what I’ve seen for myself. We are living through and causing rapid changes in the natural systems that support our well being, we might at least know what it is that we are giving up.

How we learn about the world around us is also changing. Much of what is important in nature operates at scales that challenge our human senses and perception: too big, too small, too fast, too slow. Advances in digital technologies and artificial intelligence make it easier to see and know about these things.

By subscribing you’ll receive regular (once or twice a month) newsletters published via email and sent to you. This is free, no charge, no obligation, and as they used to say, this offer is good for the life of the company.

FAQ:

What is a naturalist? What does a naturalist do? What are the qualifications?

Answer (to all three): A naturalist is motivated by curiosity to learn about nature. That’s pretty much it. Anyone can do it. Curiosity and motivation are the essential qualifications.

What makes the Adirondacks special?

The Adirondack region lies at an ecological crossroads. Elevation and continental weather patterns bring temperatures and precipitation that separate the Adirondack dome from the temperate forests that surround it. But that’s only part of the story. The Adirondack Park (and Forest Preserve) represents a public policy experiment unlike anything else in the world. Six million acres in northeastern New York with roughly half of that land preserved for all time by a clause in the New York State Constitution.

What does it mean to subscribe? How does Substack (this platform) work?

Substack is a platform for publishing newsletters and subscribing means that new posts are sent to you in email. Some authors offer paid subscriptions but my substack newsletter is free. You can see all the posts and links to videos I publish on youtube by visiting the website at www.adirondackforests.com.

The light changes in November. October is all about the color, everywhere we look brilliant colors compete for our attention. November brings a transition to black and white, somber and grey. This pattern is nothing new, but the fall makes it easy for us to forget. Now we remember what’s coming.

The November just past, I’m writing this on November 30th 2025, was not the snowiest of those that I recall, but it was up there. It’s snowing hard today, accumulating and adding to the half foot of snow already on the ground. Several inches more are expected today and overnight.

Every year is different, so there’s no telling what December will bring. The images that follow are from late October and November. Mostly from my usual haunts with a few from our visit to Pennsylvania to see the kids. A trip to Pennsylvania seems like a southern vacation these days.

Common Milkweed, Tupper Lake

As fall sets in, White-throated Sparrows and Song Sparrows are among the last of the migrating song birds to head south.

Late October, the bogs are ablaze with color.

Water and light

I rarely show sunset pictures anymore. The best ones look unreal and I have to note that the colors have not been faked.

I do like that blue.

The Bloomingdale Bog trail. A new favorite.

Uh oh, when the Larch needles turn yellow fall is wrapping up.

Canada Jay along the Bloomingdale Bog trail.

Low water in the Raquette River below Buttermilk Falls. August and September were dry but late October brought rain and water levels started to come back up.

Buttermilk Falls, November 1st, the flow was still on the low side.

Side trip down to Pennsylvania. A turkey vulture near Malvern.

A Red-bellied Woodpecker seen while hiking in the Valley Forge Historical Park.

Sweet Gum tree at Valley Forge.

An abandoned field at Valley Forge, an ecological community not seen in the Adirondacks.

Here we go, back home. I cut my teeth on black and white photography in the 1970s, and November comes with a nostalgic feel.

Sometimes a bit of color is needed.

A pair of Mallards appeared on Lake Eaton on November 29th. I hope they had the good sense to continue their journey, the lake was starting to ice up and the next day was no day to be traveling.

Seward Mountain from Tupper Lake. Winter Taking hold.

Eventually my presence (in my canoe) started to bother them, sending them up into nearby trees. From there they watched and circled. Keeping track of me and each other.

My best guess was that there was a food source, a deer carcass maybe, in the marsh and they both wanted it. I’ve seen multiple eagles hanging around a carcass on winter ice but it appeared that in this case they were not interested in sharing. Other explanations are possible, but given the time of year and the behavior I did not get the impression that they were trying to make friends.

While working on this post I came across this interesting discussion of eagle behavior and ecology.

Are the Adirondacks boreal? What makes “boreal”? Does it matter?

Boreal: Is it the landscape, the ecological communities, the weather? For me there is a sense of wildness that goes along with “boreal”, echoes of the endless dark and wet forests of Canada and Siberia, the taiga. A wildness that still hangs on in a few Adirondack places.

The glacial terrains of the northwestern Adirondacks set the stage with eskers, great swaths of sorted outwash, and kettle ponds. Overlaid are the bogs and conifer swamps, with distinctive natural communities. As for the weather, the cold and wet Adirondack environment has long resisted entry by the hardwood forests lurking all around. How long that might continue is one of the questions that comes to mind when thinking about Adirondack landscapes. It might be the central question.

A portion of the esker that stretches along the upper Bog River Flow and into Lows Lake

The circum-polar Boreal forest spans Canada reaching its southern limit several hundred miles north of the Adirondacks. But elevation, cold and the reliable flow of moisture coming from the great lakes combine to induce boreal characteristics in the Adirondacks. Especially in the northwestern Adirondacks; roughly the region that encompasses the watersheds of the Raquette, Oswegatchie and Grasse rivers.

Extent of the boreal forest in North America (Audubon America)

Hitchens Pond Bog

This puts the Adirondacks on the frontline of adaptation in a changing world. And there’s one more piece; the forest preserve, several million acres set aside and left undeveloped for 125 years. There is no other place like this in the eastern United States, maybe in the world.

To learn more start with the Lowland Boreal Report, Part I: Composition and Geography – 2004. Written by Jerry Jenkins this report goes into detail on what “boreal” means and whether the wetland and bog country of the Adirondacks should be included. Jenkins is a noted ecologist, botanist, photographer and writer. The report is enjoyable reading but Jenkins never falls into the trap of over-simplification and hand waving.

Jenkins spent decades studying the Adirondacks and his Adirondack Atlas, now 25 years old, holds up brilliantly. It stands among the best regional geographies produced anywhere. Additionally, Jenkins is a primary author for the Northern Forest Atlas website, offering free access to a wealth of materials. A remarkable resource and an act of public service rarely seen these days.

And even today, when both the extent of the boreal and our economic dependence on it are considerably diminished, the boreal is still central to our sense of what the Adirondacks are. It is what theAdirondacks have that neighboring mountains do not have, where the special Adirondack animals live, and why, even in a warming century with an increasing human presence, we can still perceive the Adirondacks, unlike anyplace else in New York or indeed in much of New England, as deeply and essentially northern.

Jerry Jenkins, Lowland Boreal Report, pg. 6

Extended visits to Lows Lake over the past few years have brought me to a new appreciation of what makes the Adirondacks unique. Public and private, wild and tamed, it doesn’t have to be “perfect” to be great. The generations who came before left us a gift of immense value. The forest preserve, unlike anything else in the United States and beyond. In our time, with hard lines drawn everywhere, the soft lines found here demonstrate an alternative. An alternative that is working.

The presence of boreal birds such as the Palm Warbler supports the “boreal” classification.

Abbot Augustus (A.A.) Low envisioned a forest empire in the lands around the lake that bears his name. There would be logging, maple syrup production on an industrial scale, sawmills and even bottled water to be shipped to New York City in heavy glass bottles. He built railway sidings from the New York Central mainline that passed through the corner of the 45,000 acres he owned, and two large dams; dams that cemented his legacy in place.

Unfortunately for Low, his holdings were devastated in the massive fires of 1903 and 1908. With much of his timber, and most of the sugarbush gone, the empire crumbled and AA Low died in 1912.

A summary of Lows accomplishments and the difficulties he encountered can be found here, on the Adirondack Experience website.

The bare ridges above Hitchens Pond and Lows Lake bear witness to the fires. The fires burned down to the bedrock and the open rock that attracts hikers today exists because the forest has not yet returned.

Hikers can see remnants of his plans in the foundations in the vicinity of the upper dam and the railroad grades that led there. There are also some remains at the former site of his sugaring operation and remains of the cistern where the water was bottled now stand in the middle of a beaver pond not far from the dam.

Remants of the structure at the spring where water was bottled.

Pillars that supported the railroad loading dock near the site where maple syrup was made and bottled.

If you plan to visit the area, the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation website provides maps and details; found here.

The trouble is that warblers can be hard to spot and hard to identify when you do see them. They tend to stay up in the canopy and flit around, moving constantly. A blur of color high up in the trees might be all that you see.

But warblers migrate. There are no warbler species that winter here in the Adirondacks and this opens two short windows when your odds of seeing them are better. In the spring the males are at their most colorful and they tend to sing loudly to establish territories and attract mates. The period between when they arrive, and when the leaves fill out, is one of the best times to see them. This period usually lasts for a couple of weeks but varies depending on weather conditions. Species that pass through the Adirondacks headed for nesting grounds further north can also be seen during this time. When migrating birds encounter bad weather they sometimes stop over for a day or two to rest up and wait for better conditions.

However, my favorite time for seeing warblers is in late summer and early fall. Both the migrating species and the locals exhibit a behavior that makes finding them much easier. Migrating warblers tend to join up in mixed flocks with species that over winter here: chickadees, kinglets, and nuthatches. And these mixed flocks move around feasting on berries, seeds and insects. Chickadees are gregarious and watchful and the warblers apparently get the benefit of their local knowledge. During the migration period chickadees arriving in the trees overhead will oftentimes be followed by a stream of small birds, commonly including warblers, vireos and other migrators.

There is a catch to watching for warblers in the fall. In many species the eye-popping coloration that makes them so interesting is dulled, and females and juveniles of various species can look very similar, making identification difficult. You need to look closely and focus on key differences to know what you are seeing. On top of that, some birds will be molting and this gives them a disheveled appearance that can add to the confusion. Yellow-rumped warblers are common and they head south later than many other species. So they tend to be molting at the time when northern migrants arrive. This is a clue you can use to identify yellow-rumped warblers when you spot weird looking small birds that look like they've just been through a blender.

Blackburnian Warbler, male, spring plumage, Lake Eaton

You never forget your first Blackburnian Warbler.

Yellow Warbler, Male, spring plumage (2 above), Tupper Lake Bike Trail

American Redstart, male, Tupper Lake Bike Trail

The redstart is common and oftentimes less wary than other warbler species. The males maintain their colorful plumage throughout the summer.

Chestnut-sided Warbler, male, spring plumage, Tupper Lake bike trail (2 above)

Palm Warbler, Massawepie, male, mating plumage (2 above)

The Palm Warbler is rarely seen south of the Adirondacks and is often listed among the boreal species that bring birders to the Adirondacks. Massawepie, near Tupper Lake may be the best place in the Adirondacks to spot Palm Warblers. If the black flies are out, so are the Palm Warblers at Massawepie.

Not sure what this one is but I love the picture

Northern Parula, Long Lake, male, spring plumage

Oven Bird, Long Lake, Male, spring plumage.

Male Ovenbirds have a small orange spot on top of their heads. This is oftentimes difficult to see.

Black and White Warbler, female (I think), Long Lake

Black and white warblers keep the same plumage year round.

Yellow-rumped Warbler, Massawepie

Yellow-rumped Warblers may be the most numerous warbler nesting in the Adirondacks. They arrive early in spring and remain later into the fall than other warblers.

Yellow-rumped Warbler, molting in mid-September, Tupper Lake Bike Trail

Black-throated Green Warbler

Another common Adirondack warbler. They join in the mixed foraging flocks in anticipation of the migration to come.

Nashville Warbler, Fall migration, Long Lake

This species nests far to the north of the Adirondacks and is typically seen only during migration.

Common Yellowthroat, female, fall

Brightly colored and common, Yellowthroats forage on the ground. If you see a warbler-like bird bouncing around in the understory it is most likely a Yellowthroat.

Nashville Warbler, immature

This is where it gets tricky. I think this is an immature Nashville Warbler but there are several other possible candidates.

Black and White Warbler

This one, at least, I can always be sure of.

Palm Warblers talking amongst themselves

The white feathers on the outside of the tail feathers are the clue I'm using for this ID.

Red-eyed Vireo, not a warbler

Like the warblers Red-eyed Vireos migrate and they sometimes join in foraging flocks with the other small migrators.

Blue-headed vireo, Moose Pond (Santanoni)

Blue-headed Vireo

Easily confused with some Warbler Species.

This lesson was reinforced during what has become an annual pilgrimage to the Willamette Valley in western Oregon (hooray for grandchildren!). It's a beautiful area and seeing an entirely different mix of trees, plants, birds and never fails to reveal a few surprises.

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On our very first day in Oregon (August 2025) I was excited to spot a clan of Acorn Woodpeckers on a large tree* close to where our son and his family live. Six to ten of these unmistakable birds were buzzing around the tree which was pocked with several dozen quarter sized holes. This was the first time I had actually seen Acorn Woodpeckers but their reputation precedes them. They form nesting groups and each group typically sets up one or more cache trees known as 'graineries'. The birds drill hundreds (or thousands) of small holes in the tree and place an acorn in each hole. They guard this food store carefully with one bird always remaining at the cache tree while the others go around doing what Acorn Woodpeckers do. These birds are noisy and colorful and this approach to caching food is a remarkable display of cooperative behavior. This is a charismatic species.

An Acorn Woodpecker

Multiple Acorn Woodpeckers hanging around a tree with holes looked like a grainary tree but two things did not quite fit. First, after watching for a while I didn't see them paying any attention to what I thought must be their storage holes. And a couple of the birds didn't fit the model. They were similar enough to the Acorn Woodpeckers that I thought they might be females, or perhaps they were molting, but they were not the same as the others.

The small holes left of the woodpecker were drilled by sapsuckers

A Red-breasted Sapsucker. In general sapsuckers drill lots of small holes in a tree and feed on the sap released by the tree in response to the attack. The sap also attracts insects that the sapsucker and other birds consume

When I finally got a clear look I realized that the 'extras' were some kind of Sapsucker and from the photos I was able to name them, Red-breasted Sapsuckers. The tree was riddled with the neat rows of the small holes that sapsuckers make and reading up on Acorn Woodpeckers I learned they love to take advantage of the work that sapsuckers do.

The trees react to the holes by producing large amounts of sap and the sap attracts insects. Both of which feed the sapsuckers and the Acorn Woodpeckers.

It’s so easy to jump to conclusions. This was not a granary tree, it was simply Acorn Woodpeckers and Sapsuckers interacting around a food source.

Spotted Towhee watching me watching it

*I’m still working on identifying the tree. There are several species of “false cedars” found in Oregon and they can be hard to tell apart.

But, as they say, fools rush in so, I've placed a few prints with local galleries and I'm going to give online selling via Etsy a try. Here's the deal:

• adkforests.etsy.com

Prints can be purchased on Etsy. Not the best place to sell fine art prints but you've got to start somewhere. I've picked 10 images and vetted the quality when printed at 16 inches by 20 inches. The prints are made using the dye sublimation process on an aluminum backing which produces deep and vibrant colors. The sturdy aluminum backed prints come with hanging hardware attached and are ready to hang.

• The prints are scratch and UV resistant though they should not be hung in direct sun.

• The prints are glossy, so they show best when hung in locations that minimize reflections.

• The prints are shipped to the buyer directly from the photo lab and you can expect delivery in 7 to 10 days. The prints are shipped in sturdy packaging but if there are any issues with a print you receive just let me know and I'll immediately order a replacement for you.

• I'm currently offering just one size, 16 inches by 20 inches and the price shown in the Etsy store includes shipping.

• I plan on offering additional images and sizes in the future but I want to see how this goes first.

Dawn, Little Salmon Lake

Water Lily, Little Tupper Lake

The view from Giant Mountain

Reflections, Indian Pass Brook

Ripples and Sand, Lake Lila

Fall Color, Lake Eaton

Fall Color, Coney Mountain

Sheet of Glass, Lake Lila

Sometimes things long forgotten come back to us in a flash. That was my experience when I recalled my father telling me about a co-worker who had been attacked and injured by some kind of hawk. The bird swooped in from behind, striking the back of the man's head. Startled, he went down hard: bruised and bloodied.

The bird in the story was a Goshawk, an uncommon and secretive resident of our adirondack woods. In many many years of traipsing through the forest I had never seen one up close and the story of a sudden assault from above was long forgotten.

Until, on a recent hike, a loud screeching call alerted me to look up. Scanning the canopy to see what it was, I was startled to see a large bird hurtling straight at me. I was able to throw up my arms and duck and the bird veered off, passing a few feet above my head. In an instant my father's story of his friend's experience flashed back into my consciousness.

The bird landed on a branch maybe 30 yards behind me and continued its warning call. I was three hours into a buggy hike to a spot where I planned to take pictures for a video story I'm working on and my first instinct was to retreat back the way I had come. I knew that this behavior was all about the hawk defending its nest, and I didn’t want to disturb it, but the bird kept diving at me and circling around behind. So I went with plan B, moving up the trail as fast as I could.

Waving my hiking poles over my head proved to be an effective deterrent, and finally, a couple of hundred yards up the trail, it seemed like I might be out of range. But the Goshawk came in for one last surprise attack, I suppose it wanted to reinforce the lesson.

In one final strange twist I actually saw a second goshawk just a few days later. I was out in my canoe on one of the large lakes that I often visit and I heard the distinctive call of a bald eagle, followed immediately by the screamed warning of a goshawk. That is a sound I won't soon forget and my instinctive reaction was to duck. But this time it was further off and I watched as the eagle rose from a hidden perch with the hawk right behind. The eagle was easily twice as big as its tormentor, and probably could have stood its ground, but it apparently knew that once a goshawk has you in its sights it does not give up. And that some battles are not worth fighting.

If you are wondering, I’m not saying exactly where I had this encounter. Even a few birders going to the area to add this species to their checklist could be detrimental to the nesting success of this pair. And besides, you might get knocked off your feet by one angry hawk, I don't want to be complicit in that.

I previously posted a video about the Ruby-throated Hummingbird to my YouTube channel:

What do Hummingbirds do in the Rain (youtube)

I’m now working on an updated version. Some recent footage that might be included in the new video below:

The tiny Ruby-throated Hummingbird (Archilochus colubris) arrives in the Adirondacks in mid-May with a blur and a buzz. This is the only hummingbird that nests in the Eastern United States and they are approaching the northern extent of their range in the Adirondacks.

Critical to the ruby-throat's cold-weather survival is its ability to enter a state of torpor, a deep physiological inactivity akin to a temporary hibernation. When temperatures plummet, or when nectar sources dwindle, the topor state allows the hummingbird to drastically reduce its metabolic rate conserving precious energy reserves that would otherwise be rapidly depleted due to their high metabolism. This adaptation allows them to weather cold nights and lean periods, essentially hitting a pause button on their energetic demands until conditions improve.

However, torpor is not a viable solution for surviving prolonged cold. The primary strategy that enables ruby-throated hummingbirds to inhabit regions with harsh winters is their ability to migrate to warmer climates, primarily Central America. This often involves crossing the Gulf of Mexico, a testament to their endurance and navigational prowess.

During the summer breeding period, ruby-throats are fierce defenders of territories and food sources. Sitting on our porch we oftentimes see a flash and hear the high pitched whir of males chasing each other to establish dominance over the feeder in our yard. The winner then perches in nearby trees to keep an eye on things.

Watch the video on YouTube here…

As the boy scouts say, Be Prepared

In the Adirondack backcountry, preparing for the expected weather is great, until it's not. It’s easy to take our ‘pretty good most of the time’ weather forecasts for granted. But Adirondack weather can be volitile with thunderstorms, multiple inches of rain, and winds gusting to 30 miles per hour appearing out of nowhere. Those conditions have surprised me on recent trips but they are far from the worst weather you might encounter. Plan for the best, prepare for the worst. But keep in mind that the worst can lie way outside of the ‘normal’ weather that we take for granted. Have fun!

Billys Bald Spot

In the video I mention a place that I refer to as "Billys Bald Spot." That name is commonly associated with an overlook west of Big Moose Lake but My use of the name comes from William J. O'Hearn's book, Moose River Plains, Life Around the Indian Clearing. A photo of the author next to a small cliff is captioned, "The author snakes through a pass near Mitchell Ponds to reach Billys Bald Spot. The location affords a splendid view of the Red River basin."

Using Google Earth, I identified the only overlook that fits that description. But this is just a guess and I was not able to find any other uses of that name applied to an overlook near Mitchell Ponds. O'Hearn's use of the name (and mine) might be a confusion of names.

Error or not, O'Herns book is a wonderful collection of stories that he describes as an "informal history". Highly recommended.

We don't see that now, even in a small isolated village like Long Lake. To see a dark sky you have to get away from the houses and street lights. Seeing the night sky in all its glory is one of the things we love about backcountry camping.

It's those little things that get me out camping again and again.

Note: I have not previously posted a video to substack so this is actually an experiment. The full version of this video will be posted on YouTube in a few days.

Paddling up the lake on my way out I noticed a group of ducks on the water. I had seen Black Ducks and Buffleheads in that same area the day before, but these birds didn't look like either of those. Unfortunately, my binoculars had been unwisely packed in the bottom of a dry bag so I couldn't get a good look. However, I had a long lens on my camera and snapped a few quick shots. Back home, after blowing up the images, I was pleasantly surprised to find that these were Horned Grebes. These small Grebes generally nest in central and northern Canada so they had a long ways to go. The only time we see them here is when they take a break on their long migration.

Horned Grebes; I couldn't make them out while I was on the water but the picture (and others that I took) leave no doubt.

The second surprise was found in a picture I snapped of a group of gulls perched on a big rock. This is a spot much beloved by herring gulls and even though I snapped a couple of shots I didn't pay close attention. Later I watched a flight of white birds circle and come in for a landing on the lake but they also were too far off for an identification. They looked like gulls, but even at a distance I knew they were too small for herring gulls. Again, I snapped a couple of quick shots. It was only later looking at the images that I realized that these were probably Bonaparte's Gulls. I still was not sure however, and it was the images of the gulls on the rock that firmed up the id. Among the herring gulls were two small gulls with jet black heads and bright red legs. No doubt about it, those are Bonaparte's Gulls.

Keeping my binoculars handy would have helped but now I'm going to feel like I should take pictures of every bird I see, even if I think I know what they are. Oh boy.

Herring Gulls with two Bonaparte's Gull bottom right.

Herring Gulls perch love this rock in the middle of Little Tupper Lake.

The loons are back on Little Tupper (and throughout the region). Based on what I heard and saw there are at least three pairs and very likely more.

A pair of Buffleheads. As far as I know these birds do not nest at Little Tupper Lake, but they are commonly seen in both spring and fall.

Eastern Phoebe, a sure sign of spring.

That meant putting my canoe on a carrier and wheeling it, along with the rest of my gear, two miles on the Hitchins Pond Overlook trail. This is actually a dirt maintenance road that leads to the Bog River at Lows Upper Dam. It's fairly smooth going and rolling the heavily loaded carrier was easier than expected. Especially because my wife Elle, and cousin Judy, went along for the walk and they both showed a natural talent for canoe rolling. Right up to the point where one of the wheels came off. Luckily, we were nearly within sight of the put-in when that happened.

The Bog River Flow Lows Lake Complex. It's 13 miles from the Lower Dam put-in to the western end of Lows Lake. The western end of Lows Lake is in the Five Ponds Wilderness Area, providing access to some of the most remote country in the Adirondacks.

Fall color along the Bog River

We carried everything that last bit and Elle agreed to hike in later in the week with the part and tools I would need to fix the carrier for the trip back out. It turned out this wasn't necessary. While I was camping Elle learned that the lower dam access would reopen that week, and with more help from Judy, she could reposition the car allowing me to come out via that much easier route. As I write this the 2025 canoeing season is just a couple of weeks away and the road to the lower dam remains closed for mud season. Once the road firms up the canoe put-in at the Lower Dam will once again be the standard way onto the Bog River Flow and up onto Low Lake.

The infamous Bog River floating bog mat. The entire flow of the Bog River passes underneath this obstacle about a mile above the Upper Dam. A shallow muddy channel passes along one side where, depending on the water level, you can drag or carry your canoe around the blockage. While you are there, probably cursing the mud, take a moment to marvel at the vegetation that lives on top of this organic Island.

But back to the trip. As we tugged the canoe along behind us we passed several groups hauling their gear out. Later, as I paddled up the Bog River towards Lows Lake I passed more groups heading out. After that I never saw another person until I was back at the parking lot five days later. Lows Lake is a big body of water, with 40 or so widely scattered backcountry campsites, so even in prime season you might not see a lot of people. But seeing no one is unusual. Somehow I had the entire place all to myself.

Grass Pond Mountain. I had planned to make the short hike up to the open rock on this mountain but was deterred by heavy rains.

Several nice days allowed me to wander the hiking trails that start at the far western end of the lake. Up to Cowhorn Pond one day and towards fishpole pond on a second day. Also unusual was that the winds were generally calm which allowed for leisurely trips around the lake. I poked around and moved to different campsites a couple of times to see more of the area.

A glimpse of Slender Pond along the little used trail to Cowhorn Pond from the Oswegatchie River canoe carrry.

While on the water I sometimes had a cell signal and that allowed me to keep an eye on the weather. But the forecast held with only a chance of scattered shows showing for the latter part of the week. It's only now that I understand that "a chance of scattered showers" covers a wide variety of weather conditions.

Scattered showers might mean that it will be generally dry with a few periods of light to moderate rain. This is the preferred option. Or, it can mean that you will be startled out of your skin by an unexpected crash of simultaneous lightning and thunder followed by an intense thunderstorm with hail and torrential rain. That storm appeared with no rumbles in the distance to warn me. I was caught completely off guard.

But it was the last option that really got me. The morning following the thunderstorm I checked the forecast again and it continued to call for scattered showers. By noon it was pouring and it rained heavily throughout the afternoon, through the night and into the next morning. Multiple inches of rain fell. This is the least preferred option.

Hail fell during the unexpected thunderstorm. In sheltered places it hung around until the next day.

Packing for this trip, and anticipating the longish walks with the canoe on the carrier, my kit was closer to what I usually take backpacking than what I would take on an extended canoe trip. So I didn't have the heavy tarp I sometimes take, or a lot of extra clothing. Suffice it to say that after the deluge, everything was wet.

I had planned to come part way back on the day with all the rain but instead hunkered down trying to stay dry. That left a long paddle from Grass Pond all the way down to the lower dam for the following day. But there it was, the car was waiting and as I packed up my gear a newly arrived group of four prepared to head out. The parking lot had reopened just that morning and I could see them trying to work out how it was that I was looking so wet and muddy.

Eventually I mentioned that I had been there all week and that the car had been positioned for me that very day. I also mentioned the chance of scattered showers. They looked a little perplexed by that, but off they went. If you want to enjoy the Adirondacks in October you can't let a little rain deter you.

Approaching the lower dam at the end of my trip. After a two year closure the lower dam access reopened on Oct. 11th 2024.

Lows Lower Dam, April 13, 2025. The road down to the dam and canoe put-in is currently closed for mud season but should be open by mid-May.

Meteorological spring arrives tomorrow, March 20th, but I have no illusions that winter is done with us. Even so, signs of spring are appearing everywhere. Here are a few photos from a brief visit to Buttermilk Falls and the Raquette River earlier today.

A pair of Common Mergansers resting along the Raquette near Buttermilk Falls. Common Mergansers are always one of the first of the migrating birds to reappear in the spring. In recent years there has been open water on Long Lake by this date, and groups of Mergansers have gathered waiting for the remaining ice to clear. So far this year, there is very little open water on the lakes so the birds have taken refuge where they can.

Water levels on the Raquette river are high, in keeping with the spring melting of the past 10 days.

Buttermilk Falls (near Long Lake) is spectacular at times of high water.

The Whitney Adirondack Property. Located just west of the Long Lake Hamlet in the town of Long Lake.

The property is currently bordered on two sides by Forest Preserve lands owned by New York State. The William C. Whitney Wilderness is the the west and areas to the east and south are included in the Sargent Ponds Wild forest.