My attraction to Kingfishers is for me unexplainable.
The hovering over calm coves and banks with barriers of  bayberry, the plunging and darting after Silverside minnows-the solitary bird on a solitary autumn morning, and a solitary naturalist shadowing close behind….

For four years now I have documented these birds-thinking I know their favorite spots. Like the telephone wire perch over the Bicycle Path just as I round the bend of Oyster Pond. Late summer mornings before nine o’ clock is best for viewing here. The entrance to Darbies Cove is where I often hear the bird’s rattle-like voice echoing before evening. Money Pond is where I spied a blue-gray crest (a bit of a mohawk!) silhouetted against pinkish dusk, its heron-like bill nipping in flight, chasing insects A dock nearby to Hooverness houses a" local".

It has been no small feat for me to capture any Belted Kingfisher on camera.Shyness between us is typical.

Perhaps I need to balance persistence with allowing myself to be captivated….

The original and authentic naturalists-native Indians, suggest the Kingfisher is an instructor of remaining grounded and connected to Mother Earth-to remain comfortable in quiet solitude.

These weeks I have been daily looking forward to Harbor seals returning home to Hungry Point. As I balanced precariously on wrack covered rocks, I smiled as I became quietly steady. At long last, King of Fishers, we meet.

Summer, I glanced and saw you at five past Noontide.

Summer, I heard you whiz by on wings of Dragonfly

Summer, your scent wafted by both sweet and bitter

Summer?

Is that you I felt?

I have been privileged to live in several different cottages here on Island both during winter and summer months. It’s a whole new learning of different habitat for local wildlife and for myself-new birds to identify in the yard, new and quickly becoming familiar faces to wave to during a much longer bicycle commute, fumbling to find different light switches (at night) memorizing and dodging different sprinkler systems (in morning) and with all the change, I remember to keep my Naturalist sense of humor too……

A couple field notes back I was thrilled at the prospect of a coyote den under floorboards of a back bedroom. I didn’t think it was entirely impossible, as I was convinced I heard a small canine voice bark whenever I came home. So real was this Wild Kingdom vision in my thoughts that Larry Horn was asked for advice….even he thought snarly baby raccoons was more probable, and  promptly dimmed my dream of writing “My Side of the Island” with a falcon holding steady on my handle bars and neighborly coyotes returning my lost (but still chewed) glove.

For weeks, I heard this “baby-something” yapping in the early morn and late eve and then its lonely midnight crying during thunderstorms.

When Julian from Z&S crawled around the dirt space under the cottage confirming no such den- only a petrified acorn on a windowsill, I began to tap walls and flash lights under broken shingles imagining I am now coaxing a hungry chattering squirrel trapped and constantly calling for Mama!

Then there were late night Googles of animal sounds from barking rabbits to growling rodents, and I can’t forget the many scat photos I collected and listed on Favorites.

Most of all I envisioned a wildlife rescue, so I kept up with roadside consulting with Race Rock Garden Co.’s Carl Scroxton and anyone else who would listen.

There must have been a bit of prayerful thought too as my last rescue attempt was laughingly described to Karl Eirikssen of Church On The Rock. I told him “Now I am hearing this strange barking all times during the day!”

Shortly afterwards, Karl came to investigate and climbed down into the dark under the cottage.

“There is a small puddle down here and look who is in it!”

He handed me a beautiful and ever so patient frog-an uncommon Northern Leopard frog which deserves its very own field note.

I quickly released my friend, my wild menagerie…..

For now, the croaks on me!!!

 

 
There it was, rising like Mount Kilimanjaro up out of a tiny cove Sound side.

Without missing a beat I dubbed the site “Mount Kilimanguano”.  This poop-capped rock is a rest for local Cormorants reaching their great ascent of over population and its resulting overload of nitrogen “dumping” grounds.

Just peer through your binoculars at South Dumpling and you’ll see the bare bones devastation nesting Cormorants have caused.

While I am not making these sea birds out to be villains-I realize they are high on some eradication lists out there- over the decades Cormorant colonies have dealt a blow to our Fishers Island Sound.

The Scoop: Highly acidic content of guano changes soil chemistry, kills vegetation, and irreversibly damages nesting trees. Increased erosion results, especially on sand spits and barrier beaches.

The Scoop: Cormorants are opportunistic-vying for nest territory-competing with our (remaining) local Common and Least Terns.

The Scoop: Cormorants are adaptable foragers-feeding and feeding! on a variety of fish species.

The Scoop: Cormorants along with their poop are documented in abundance at all 12 sites monitored here on Fishers Island.