As I headed out this morning I had one thought. It wasn’t to hurry up and monitor Chocomount, Isabella, and South beaches. It was more humbling.
A proper Thank You sent to the Universe.
“I am so grateful for the solitude and beauty of this Island and many sacred moments of Nature that are quietly shared with me.”
I was to acknowledge that I love what I do.
After surveying the day’s appointed sites, I heeded the “You are welcome” and went on my own “walk-about”. When I got out of the car I left the camera behind thinking I am off work now…even though that still voice(that same one that found Officer Kushigian’s jumper! ) told me to “Bring the camera”.
I walked for almost an hour, thinking about the Christmas Bird Count and how much I learned- but that day, we didn’t see the Snowy Owl that folks spoke of. The tide today was extremely low so I looked down a lot searching for sea glass….
Then I looked up.
Met face to face with the sacred moment for which I had thanked a couple of hours beforehand.
“Forgive me for not listening and taking the camera”
The wind gusts were picking up to 30mph, the skies turning dark and gray.
I turned abruptly around and walked all the way back to the car grabbed the camera and walked all the way back.
Like walking across the Alaskan tundra again.
I didn’t run or cheat and take a shortcut-I peacefully asked for patience and the opportunity to share my passion for these moments of Nature’s Spirit.
The Snowy Owl
I remembered the elder Aleuts in the Pribilofs speaking of this majestic messenger of wisdom, intuition, and as a symbol for “winds of change”.
We both acknowledged our own presence in the company of eachother.
“You are lovely”, I said softly.
I don’t often speak when I am out in the field.
It just happened.
Welcome Mats For Oysters
Field NotesThese past weeks, I have attended class “on” The Indian River Lagoon.
Twisting and winding through mangrove islets, its brackish waters extend and run parallel with this area of Atlantic shoreline for 156 miles. It houses some of the most unique and diverse biological ecosystems that merged together with Mosquito and Banana Lagoons forms one of the largest estuaries in North America.
Over the last 100 years, human impact has put great stress on this delicate environment.
A particular area of concern has been the degradation of the Lagoon’s water quality.
Thankfully, conservation efforts and projects aimed at wetland restoration, sea grass mapping, as well as capturing storm water sediment have led the way in the saving of this extraordinarily vital Floridian habitat.
Another such effort to preserve these nutrient rich waters that continues to support thousands of species of plants, fish, shell fish, birds, as well as hundreds of dolphins and manatees is Oyster Reef Restoration.
For thousands of years the Oyster has filtered and purified these waters, battling pollution. Fortresses built of layers upon layers of shell deposit create a reef system that helps to bolster and stabilize the Lagoon’s coastline against erosive boat traffic and commercial over harvest.
The Marine Discovery Center partners with many proactive conservation organizations in area counties including The Nature Conservancy
Using eco friendly mesh materials, Oyster shells are tied to “mats” that are anchored down in the shallow estuary waters. In about a year’s time, floating Oyster larvae that is “welcomed” home- forms sturdy foundations for new reefs.
No Stone Left Unturned:
Field NotesThat was the determined thought I embraced when I set off for this southern shore.
I would find the similar bird species that summer at Fishers Island, create close-up and candid opportunities here (and now) that will help to better identify these same bird types later back home.
So it was really no surprise that my first subject I would follow down this sandy stretch was the Ruddy Turnstone-a chunky Sandpiper (once classified with family “Plover”) named for flipping stones and pebbles while foraging.
Here, in winter their probing beaks search for bits of mollusk, snails, and crustaceans.
I observe Turnstones occasionally on South Beach’s tidal flats and up at the Big Club Beach during the warmer months. Typically routing through seaweed, pecking aggressively sometimes for sand flies.
I note that different shore birds in this populated beach environment are more tolerant and habituated to human activity, allowing me a glimpse into the social behavior of these particular birds of Ruddy feather, so I join the flock for a minute or two.
Ethics On A Walk
Field NotesA few months back when I enrolled in The Master Naturalist Program, and before I left Fishers for New Smyrna Beach, it was my personal intention to continue weekly monitoring off Island. Despite the difference in natural settings and ecosystems, I wanted to share with students that one can be a naturalist and share local traditional knowledge anywhere.
Here I can observe and count local Brown Pelicans in the colony that inhabits a nearby mangrove isle. After a week of learning the rhythm of a different beach altogether, I spied a neighborhood Gopher Tortoise that emerges regularly from shrubs buffering a parking lot. I determine River Otter remain elusive while still creating a well worn path to the lagoon. It’s noted here as well that invasive plants have historically taken root-a Blue Heron rests in an Australian pine.
There is quite a bit of discussion in the Master Naturalist course about ethics- within educational outreach, and interpretation.
While sharing my respect and enthusiasm specifically for Fishers Island with future Island Sentinels (students) has been seemingly effortless-thinking, what’s not to love about our Island’s outdoor uniqueness? I share with them also that it’s really about the “outreach” and how others interpret that.
Basically, “if you talk the talk you’ve got to walk the walk.”
For instance, back on Fishers Island as stewards making sure we stay our distance and be still while monitoring seals at Hungry Point-it’s illegal to disrupt their haul out. Or being aware of countless balloons that wash ashore might have us NOT “invite” balloons to the next community celebration. Even by riding our bikes or walking to the beach we know we can cut down on invasive gas emissions locally
So student Island Sentinels actually become teachers and their passion for wildlife conservation and land preservation on a tiny Island can indeed lead to positive, far reaching steps – even globally.
Willet Gray
Field NotesWading in winter’s gray
Somber plumage
Mirrored on shore
“Pill-pill-willet”
Echoed on shore
Again “Pill-pill-willet”
Waiting on summer’s days
*One of the largest of shorebirds, clothed here in winter feathers, with a striking black and white winged pattern seen mostly in flight. Marketing “tasty eggs” (John James Audubon) nearly decimated the species till the 1918 Migratory Bird Treaty Act helped the Willet’s return.
Snowy Egret’s Own Great Spirit
Field NotesI haven’t sighted a Snowy Owl on the beach yet, but I hear that indeed Floridians in Jacksonville have! With historic winter weather patterns I ask myself “Has the Arctic Circle come full?”
Keeping with the winter theme though, the Snowy Egret has graced me with its elegance in the early mornings while I monitor the low tidal flats.
A member of the heron family, this bird breeds as far north as Maine, and migrates even to Central America. The Seminole culture referred to the slender legged and statuesque egret as “Yellow Snippers”- a wise and determined spirit displaying balance while walking into deep waters without fear.
This particular local bird IS wise, declaring its residency, staying put here on the beach, awaiting trapped minnows, crabs, and unsuspecting surfcasters -despite Climate Change Snowy Egret is putting its best foot forward…
Munnawtawkin & Master Naturalists
Field NotesWell before “Fishers Island” was penned on any map, the Pequot Indians called their summer hunting grounds Munnawtawkin or “Place of Observation”.
I can imagine centuries ago, these indigenous people paddling into West Harbor with the days catch or collecting various sea bird’s eggs from the stony spits looking north and even standing atop bluffs facing south forecasting the arrival of a turbulent gale.
I imagine the Pequot Indians were the original and authentic master naturalists. They lived the rhythm of Munnawtawkin and shared their local traditional knowledge with tribal members and even settlers on the distant mainland.
Well, with all this imagining in the dead of winter it came to me that now was the time for me to better become a master naturalist myself. And so to continue to share the passion of marine conservation and island preservation with future Island Sentinels(all students), I am going back to school myself.
Through University of Florida and The Marine Discovery Center in New Smyrna Beach, I will dive deep into Coastal Studies in the Masters Naturalist Program. And while I am busy taking notes these next months, I hope to share a few of my own- from the field.
I am grateful to both the Fishers Island community and our school as Lisa Eiriksson, Ace Ahrens and Olivia Backhaus continue to monitor and observe trends on “Munnawtawkin”. For it is outside in their own unique island classroom that they will glean knowledge from Nature’s best.
Adapting To Winter
Field NotesThe wind gusts whipping upon Dock beach are unforgiving this afternoon.
Snow drifts mixed with sand blasting against my legs and binoculars fogging up with every breath.
I spot what I believe is a pair of Semipalmated (palmated means “webbed” between toes) Sandpipers-each standing on one leg.
These shorebirds minimize losing heat while tucking the other leg in.
Like us putting our cold hands in warm pockets, they too adapt to this frigid clime.
Breeding high up in the Arctic, these migrants may fly far down to South America.
Barley Field Cove & Critical Habitat
Field NotesI find myself again writing about Eelgrass, which hasn’t always been my intention, but this New Year I feel it should be my “Attention” and maybe even yours.
While science students and I can learn and share facts about this flowering underwater plant named Zostera Marina, and the museum curator might inform me that early settlers banked houses and barns, and covered cellar storehouses with dried eelgrass – my work outdoors is teaching me daily that eelgrass meadows surrounding Fishers Island are a HUGE component of its unique environment.
Experts on the topic will tell you:
Eelgrass maintains shoreline stability and helps prevent erosion
Eelgrass supports several commercial fisheries by providing shelter and structure to ecosystems supporting foraging habitat.
Lobster, mussels, clams, razor clams, periwinkles, rock crabs, winter and summer flounder, striped bass, bay scallops, blue crab (and more!) all need eelgrass to survive and hopefully flourish.
Scientists know that Nutrient Pollution is detrimental to Zostera Marina.
Discharges from sewage, septic systems, fertilizer run off from lawns, golf courses, and agriculture fields stimulates algae growth, clouding the seawater and reducing necessary sunlight to promote healthy growth of eelgrass meadows.
While I am not an expert in the “field” of eelgrass, I continue to submit photos in hopes Islanders will, like myself, pay ATTENTION.
Snowy Owl’s Great Spirit
Field NotesAs I headed out this morning I had one thought. It wasn’t to hurry up and monitor Chocomount, Isabella, and South beaches. It was more humbling.
A proper Thank You sent to the Universe.
“I am so grateful for the solitude and beauty of this Island and many sacred moments of Nature that are quietly shared with me.”
I was to acknowledge that I love what I do.
After surveying the day’s appointed sites, I heeded the “You are welcome” and went on my own “walk-about”. When I got out of the car I left the camera behind thinking I am off work now…even though that still voice(that same one that found Officer Kushigian’s jumper! ) told me to “Bring the camera”.
I walked for almost an hour, thinking about the Christmas Bird Count and how much I learned- but that day, we didn’t see the Snowy Owl that folks spoke of. The tide today was extremely low so I looked down a lot searching for sea glass….
Then I looked up.
Met face to face with the sacred moment for which I had thanked a couple of hours beforehand.
“Forgive me for not listening and taking the camera”
The wind gusts were picking up to 30mph, the skies turning dark and gray.
I turned abruptly around and walked all the way back to the car grabbed the camera and walked all the way back.
Like walking across the Alaskan tundra again.
I didn’t run or cheat and take a shortcut-I peacefully asked for patience and the opportunity to share my passion for these moments of Nature’s Spirit.
The Snowy Owl
I remembered the elder Aleuts in the Pribilofs speaking of this majestic messenger of wisdom, intuition, and as a symbol for “winds of change”.
We both acknowledged our own presence in the company of eachother.
“You are lovely”, I said softly.
I don’t often speak when I am out in the field.
It just happened.
Winter’s Vein
Field NotesWind through branch circulates against sky
Fractured ice moans
Threads of marsh grass lie entombed
Nature’s disposition so harsh and hard
Lone and hungry coyote
awaits
The warmth and pulse of Spring’s thaw