May 2024

May was Cuckoo

This spring of 2024 I had the pleasure of being the first Ascienzo Naturalist in Residence for the Red Hook Public Library. I led bird walks, gave talks about the Hudson River and about nature writing. I met young naturalist and older naturalists all curious about “what’s out there.” On one of the walks someone asked: why don’t you write an almanac?

I loved the idea immediately. Sand County Almanac is one of my favorite books. It’s a quirky book that begins indeed with an almanac of the seasons there in the Midwest were Aldo Leopold made his life. The foreword begins: “There are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot. These essays are the delights and dilemmas of one who cannot.” I am one who cannot, and that sense of cannot only progresses as the years go by.

An almanac in my mind means a deep connection to a place, a paying attention to the shifts day by day, season by season. And so I’m using this site to write a sort of almanac of my observations, month by month reporting from the natural world, mostly the Hudson Valley, but wherever I am.

May 2024 was Cuckoo. That is, there were more Cuckoos—both yellow-billed and black-billed—than I have ever seen before. The reason is obvious: we here in the Hudson Valley are in the midst of a tent caterpillar and a spongy moth (formerly gypsy moth) outbreak. There is a lot of food that the Cuckoos enjoy. And so though the spongy moths in particular are just a bit much (an invasive brought over in the 19th century by a Frenchman enthusiastic about increasing silk production in the U.S.), I’ve had a great time hearing Cuckoos from my front yard.

The first of May I saw my first columbine in bloom on a walk at the John Burroughs property Slabsides.

May 4 for Big Sit at Great Vlei marsh we saw sixty-six species of birds, including Virginia Rail and Screech Owl.

May 5 Dawn Chorus on Cruger Island Road brought fourteen people eager to listen to Screech Owls trill and with the coming of light, the “fitz bew” of the Willow Flycatcher.

May 7 I saw and heard Cape May and Tennessee warblers in my front yard.

May 10 Dawn Chorus at Thompson Pond (following in the footsteps of FDR) brought Least Bittern and Wilson’s Warbler, but no Whip-poor-will as we had last year.

May 11 May Census, a decades-long tradition (which is now more of a Big Day) brought 116 species but fewer warblers than in previous years.

May 19 Paddle in the North Tivoli Bay where that spooky rare plant Golden Club was not just in bloom but thriving, spreading. Lots of “peeps” flew about, mostly Least Sandpiper. Lesser Yellowlegs tip-toed the flats.

May 20 Dawn Chorus along Cruger Island Road with Screech Owl returning to serenade us.

May 21 brought crazy heat—87 degrees—that lasted a few days.

May 24 Paddling in the North Tivoli Bay and a Gallinule appeared, hanging out with a Least Bittern. This is the first Common Gallinule I’ve seen in the Bays.

May 30 Time to turn to finding baby birds! Baby Hooded Mergansers floated on the pond at the Elizaville Diner.

May 31 A baby Grackle sat in a nest in a snag at the Great Vlei waiting to see who might arrive as an upstairs neighbor.

(photos: Cape May; Wilson’s; Baby Grackle; Lesser Yellowlegs; Golden club)

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June 2024