Juvenile Red-tailed hawk, Middle Farms
Young migrant, you return
Effortless you glide above within some lone raptor rapture
Broad wings, fanned tail on thermal uplift, circling and circling…
Perched and elevated awaiting early spring’s arrival along with your winged dance partner
Birds of prey within an aerial display of courtship
within some raptor rapture
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe February 28, 2018
It’s been a month of some single digit temperature’s – lowest dipping in a century. Snow has blanketed Fishers Island, but really only relatively lightly. The sense of heaviness though, that pull of hibernation when the dull grays of cloud, sand, and sea-smoke hover low; does await some sort of silver lining.
Wait though, a burst of light in a single second announcing daybreak south side off Isabella. Nature has a way of infusing even the slightest passion into drab. Winter’s darkness often leads me into starkness-subtle change in the environment becomes blunt.
As I jot observations of a marked increase clearly evident (to me) since 2012 of Slipper Snail shells on Chocomount and Big Club Beaches – I laugh to myself:
“Could the cause be winter doldrums?” I ask.
And like those light and unpredictable winds, thought and focus changes.
It’s getting late now, and dusk and a full lunar eclipse will try to overshadow.
Coyote’s path along Dock beach reminds me to keep a “one track mind”.
Nature’s wonders, even during the monotony of a winter still persist.
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe January 31, 2018
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe December 7, 2017.
Morning was crisp with a filmy frost on fallen leaves.
The damp scent of brackish hung heavy.
Moonbeams lit the bike path along my favorite “pedal fast and glide” bridge.
Buffleheads were gliding too; but leaving ripples and sparkles in their wake.
I did not ask the moon to “Supersize me”.
Merely continue to super surprise me with such wondrous moments of
Creation – such elation.
Such perfect symmetry without design gimmicktry
Served up here!
In awe of Nature’s portions – meant to satisfy
I made it to the Driving range at exactly sunrise
Meant to gratify.
*Moon nearest to earth and Oyster Pond, Fishers Island
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe November 20, 2017.
If You Lichen Me & I Lichen You
(Lichens are fungi that live in intimate association with algae)
And We Lichen both the same
(The partnership may also include cyanobacteria)
I Lichen say this very day, I Lichen change your name
(With photosynthesis)
“Cause I love-a you and love-a you true and if you -a love- a me
One live as two, two live as one”
(So symbiotic!)
Under the Locust tree
*With admiration for Hooverness, as well as Judy Garland…
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe October 16, 2017.
Etched across an autumn sky as if origami art had real wings to fly
The real in you on stalwart stilts, menhaden splash, while a yellow bill tilts
Your deep neck bow amidst swaying grass; often poses a “question mark” – might I ask?
Within sultry fog and scarlet leaves perched upon lichened bark; organdy plumage, ethereal and stark – is that still you?
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe September 18, 2017.
Summer fades now. Tawny dune grasses bend and bow towards brilliance- Monarchs that float and morph between orange and red maple leaves.
Most families have packed up here on Island, boarding ferries, migrating across the Sound, perhaps heading south or who knows where, but bound to return as trees promise to bud next year.
While shore birds and waders like 6 American Oyster Catchers of South beach, 2 Willets along Big Stony spit, Hay Harbor and several Egrets near 14th hole and bridge up at Big Club will soon all follow suit and leave Island too.
But then many bird families fly in, fly thru or stay on here. And the Fishers Island Conservancy counts on it (literally!) and so can Islanders.
The Blue Jays-there’s a talkative bunch heading east behind navy fencing; the birds sounding alarm from pine stands there, and more chiming within the conifer woods nearing Gray Gulls.
Listen, pretty much everywhere now-open grass lands like Parade Grounds, brushy habitat around Isabella cliffside, and the Northern Cardinal rules – “tik…tik…twik…”
Look up and down between sun shadows within lichen covered tree trunks that hug Oyster Pond and see Northern Flickers and Downy Woodpeckers poking and scratching for ants.
It is wonderful to become familiar with birds here and quite an opportunity.
Back in my neck of the woods over the years a band of now 8 crows has kindly adopted me. I think they must know I have an affinity towards their clan. Each morning awakens with quite a raucous-especially with coveted autumn fruit dropping to the ground. Sunny afternoons I happen upon the squawking squadron waiting for takeoff; their jet black feathers with the look of warm upon a windswept runway. Usually by the time the 4:15 ferry arrives for Island workforce and students, the crows have circled round to preen atop a chimney and bid farewell till the morning.
PS. We’re meeting 8 am at the *Community Center.
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe August 30, 2017.
Late August, Fishers Island Recreational Bike Path, 06390.
Summer has flown. Shadows are getting longer; the towhee bird is not singing “drink your tea” but a sounding cicada reminds me of warmth that is nearly tinged with melancholy. I do not know where summer goes, or why this particular one has felt so fleeting, but as I pedal and coast now around Oyster Pond heading from the Big Club beach towards Race Point, I have just enough time to recollect, and find summer again.
I remember now – I laughed with early summer when a neighbor called to tell me my Significant Otter was swimming in June’s deep rain puddles right outside my cottage.
I saw summer in the smiles of IPP’s youngest nature lovers back in July while sharing local stories of Silver Eel Cove’s snoozing Black- crowned Night herons.
I also heard summer early that same month when the Conservancy hosted Doug Tallamy and Adam Mitchell who toured and talked about the unique conservation work taking place in the Parade Grounds along Fort Stretch. I’m still learning with Islanders just how invasive plants like black swallow wort and kudzu vine alter the quality of habitat for insects; and how that might affect the birds that depend on insects and native plants for food. Summer showed me the simplicity of planting milkweed as just one example towards success in bringing monarch butterflies back home to the Island. Just now, on this very bike ride I have seen more fluttering monarchs than I have in 5 years of monitoring!
I found summer’s joy and shared it in between August’s morning hours where young Island Sentinels learned how to monitor sea grass meadows from atop their paddle boards within Hay Harbor.
I laughed again, with midsummer, when I was asked to name the very local 4 ft. sand shark observed deep inside West Harbor – that somehow we Islanders have all become intimate with the same exact wildlife on a tiny island. Summer came with mink sightings (over 30 remarks!) and for the first time in over a decade, fishermen off shore spoke of waters swarming with mackerel. From a sturgeon sighting off Chocomount to a pod of dolphin north side off Clay Point Rd., summer pointed out that Fishers Island is blessed with healthy seagrass meadows.
I found summer taught me simple lessons in patience, but tougher ones in diplomacy and active stewardship. I found too though, that this particularly ephemeral summer gifted the Island and its community tribes with more respect and better practices towards conservation.
I hear the noon whistle now as I round the bend at Duck Pond and head west. If I pedal faster uphill I’ll make Race Point in five. The wind picks up, the leaves on the trees do indeed appear to clap their hands and it feels like a wondrous summer – still.
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe July 17, 2017.
Upon Firewheel petals within a Garden’s Demonstrate*;
bees soldier on and pollinate.
Side by side this stretch of Fort, within Summer’s marching on –
“Stop here” for just a moment, and standing at attention,
Hear Fog horn’s call to arms.
That very sound in sequence that passing ships know well to thank –
Listen too, as young Bob White’s call does find its very own rank.
*Fishers Island Conservancy Demonstration Garden
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe June 17 2017.
I can always tell when perhaps I am paying too close attention to my own life on an Island – the way I “feel” it rather than “the way I see it” as a Naturalist. Kind of an inside joke between me and Nature but it often comes across in my photo moments out in the field.
Up east at Oyster Pond, ranging a bit from my neck of the woods on Silver Eel Cove, I met this Green Heron(plumage of the species is actually more slate blue) while on my bicycle. It was early eve, both of us blanketed under June’s shroud of fog-the utter stillness, well, it felt surreal. I got home to discover the image indeed almost looks like an artist’s painting.
The canvas that is Fishers Island though is constantly changing. My job taking note, documenting, and journaling natural history over time; it’s no secret diary (except of course how I feel about my Significant Otter!).
And it appears so quickly – this ever evolving natural environment impacted with our human alterations and transitions; it’s not at all like watching paint dry.
It’s a tough learning curve- being cautious -not letting my own feelings get in the mix. It’s difficult not getting swept away with the surge of cars and folks that swells from 200 or so of us to 2,000 of us in less than 48 hours-just a Memorial Day weekend.
I try not to feel blue as bright red helicopters scream “touch down”, and brighter yellow hovercrafts hover over Black-crowned night herons snoozing under the ferry dock.
Newly installed sliding glass doors at The Village Market slowly got my green light-more speedily than the nearly official traffic light up at Gate House.
And it sure feels like no joke this climate change, wearing my gloves this late, soaking wet spring-June just could be the new April-no fooling!
But some things never change; I still feel grateful to live on an Island.
– Field Note by Justine Kibbe May 9, 2017.
There once was a seal from Tiree, and with second sight voyaged the sea.
Swirling and sweeping in fathoms still keeping; all along its dreams did see.
Like tumult of wave pooled within tidal crag upon ancient cliffs off shore, this once wee flipperling finds rest to calmly reflect its lore.
Beneath night’s constellations glides this sojourner, within the constant of the mighty Milky Way…
Eavesdropping alongside wooden hulls, revealing to soaring gulls- those tales Clan warriors had to say.
And so it is our own life’s stories too – woven within the waves, but forever linked as the stars above; afar off as isles of our days.
** Fishers Island Harbor Seals readying for Annual haul-off, Fishers Island students learning the art of Storytelling & Local Traditional Knowledge