Clouds in the Water

What is it about reflections of clouds in the water that make ominous weather seem less dreadful?  In the salt marsh, the mirrored effect opens up the landscape and brings light between the grasses.

Although the water was still during high tide this morning, ripples created by ducks managed to fragment the light on the water. 

From a vantage point along Rosemary’s Way, the mist made the mirrored sky and trees seem even more enchanting. 

Of course, the sunrise itself gave the most beautiful reflection of all.  Clouded days have never seemed so fair.

Clouds symbolize the veils that shroud God.

~ Honore de Balzac

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The Migration Continues

There’s no stop these days to sights of geese flying south.  I continue to see flocks heading out in the morning, but today’s numbers baffled the mind.  Where are all these birds coming from?  Who would have thoughts there were so many Canada geese living north of here.

Some appear to be flying in V-like formations but most seem to be in strands that look like ribbons of smoke at a distance.

Wherever they are headed, in such large numbers they are bound to have an effect on the locations where they rest for the night.  How do so many large birds find food in one spot?  Seeing so many this morning, I could only stand in awe of their numbers and wonder. 

As numerous as they are, their existence, like everything else on the planet, is fragile.  In the 1500s, Canadian explorer Jacques Cartier noted that the flocks of passenger pigeons he saw flying overhead blackened the sky.  They’re now extinct.

There is symbolic as well as actual beauty in the migration of the birds… There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and  spring after the winter.

~ Rachel Carson

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November Blush

Amidst the fog, the day dawns in a blush of soft pinks along the salt marsh trail.

Summer’s pinks may already be a distant memory, but November still has its roses to offer.

Akin to a false sunrise, a blush of pink in the northwest sky is only a reflection of the sun rising in the east.  It may be disorienting to walkers in deep woods who are without a compass and trying to find their bearings.

As they pale with the approaching winter, marsh grasses reveal subtle pinks at the bottom of their stems that were less noticeable during their green phase.

The blush of pinks and oranges at the tips of this weed growing in the gravel are reversed to the centre in its negative image.  Whichever way you look at it, the landscape in November is still glowing, and has yet to lose her charm.

When a girl ceases to blush, she has lost the most powerful charm of her beauty.

~ Gregory I 

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Water and Sky

Though water is a constant feature in the salt marsh, during high tide, it seems like the water is everywhere.  This morning it was also the same colour as the sky, which made the entire scene appear watery.  Canada geese dotted the soft grey below the horizon line.

The narrow trail that passes through the salt marsh allows one to be surrounded by sky and water without being out in a boat.   It’s a unique experience and certainly one that’s mind opening and peaceful. 

 

Years ago, a railroad passed through this marsh connecting Musquodoboit on the Eastern Shore of Nova Scotia with Dartmouth.   It was named the Blueberry Express for the number of blueberries that were transported into the city for sale.  Train service carried passengers until 1960.  Travel through here would have been a wonderful experience back then too.  The views would have been just as awesome, with perhaps even more wildlife to see than there is now.

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Marsh Gold

It’s been half a century since gold was mined in Cow Bay.  Gold deposits here are part of the evidence that support the theory that this corner of Nova Scotia was attached to Africa prior to continental drift.  Today, the closest we have to gold is found in November’s plant life along the Salt Marsh Trail. 

These golden grasses and leaves exhude a warmth and richness that were not present earlier this fall.

The Marsh in September

The goldening of the grasses takes place at the same time that the water turns a steel grey.  

The colours look especially burnished in the morning sunlight.  Even when there is frost on the seaweed, there is a warm glow to the landscape.

The few leaves remaining on the rosebushes that border the trail are also golden.  They stand in bright contrast to the brilliant red rose hips that were orange earlier in the season.

Even the November sunrise seems more golden…

Which makes me wonder… why do we usually think of November as such a dull, dreary month?

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Sunrise Flight

The sun is just rising along the Salt Marsh Trail when the sound of geese begins to float in from the north.  They are waking up just beyond the island and preparing for flight.

Moments later, their distant honking turns into a loud roar.  What are they calling out to each other as they head out to sea?

Their numbers are in the thousands and it’s impossible to photograph them all in the sky.  To see so many geese flying directly overhead at dawn is an awesome experience.  The rays of dawn light up their feathers, revealing the beauty of their markings.

Their formations are like ribbons in the sky as they begin to organize themselves for their long journey south.

Within a couple of minutes, the event is over as they head out beyond the marsh to the Atlantic.  The sun is still rising beyond the horizon.

Forty minutes later, a lone goose can be heard flying around the marsh.  Its calls are distinct and clearly those of a Canada goose.  How did it possibly miss the wake up call? 

Its unanswered calls sound lonely and frantic.  Geese are known for their manner of leaving no goose behind.  How could this have happened?  Hopefully there will be more geese passing through here this week and this lone goose will be able to join the rest of its kind in their long journey south.

 

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Coyote Problems in Nova Scotia

Coyotes that have lost their fear of humans have become a concern in some parts of Nova Scotia where they are getting too close for comfort.  Problems often occur in  neighborhoods that border wild areas where there is an overlap of territories occupied by people and wildlife.

Last week, a young female hiker was killed by two coyotes in Cape Breton Highlands National Park, heightening awareness of the problem.  Both coyotes were shot. One is still on the loose, but an autopsy on the other revealed that it was neither hungry nor diseased when it attacked.

Some blame the problem on people feeding the coyotes, either willingly or by keeping backyard compost piles. I once heard of a woman somewhere in the province who was regularly feeding a couple of  skinny, homeless dogs, until her husband noticed her actions and pointed out that she was unassumingly feeding wild coyotes!

Small pets often fall prey to coyotes looking for an easy meal. I’ve always kept my cat indoors after being warned of coyotes in the area years ago.  Toddlers playing by themselves outdoors might also be easy prey.

It’s been suggested that the coyotes that attacked the hiker may have been coydogs, the offspring of coyotes and dogs.  These hybrids may have less of a natural fear of humans written in their DNA.

As a solution, many folks would like a bounty placed on all coyotes in the province. It’s already legal to kill coyotes that are a nuisance on your property and there is a hunting season for coyotes as well. 

One comment at the local newspaper’s website boasted that eight coyotes had been trapped in the woods near Bissett Road a couple of years ago.

The first coyote I ever encountered, a strikingly beautiful animal, was seen while I was driving along that road years ago. I saw one near there this past spring along the salt marsh trail. It wanted nothing to do with me and quickly ran off.  More recently, a Cole Harbour man complained that a coyote had approached him on the trail and seemed to have no fear at all.  The Natural Resources Department told him the animal was probably just curious.

Coyote along Salt Marsh Trail

Like other animal lovers, I don’t want all coyotes to be hunted for the sake of a few bad ones.  However, I also don’t like the idea of having to look over my shoulder while I’m out in the woods.  A balanced response to the problem is needed.

Coyotes are not native to Nova Scotia.  These clever opportunists infiltrated the province just last century, coming up from the US.   As wolves were made extinct in the province well over a century ago due to over trapping, coyotes have no natural enemies to keep their population in check.  I’d like to see parks introduce wolves as part of the solution to the problem.  This would put the balance back into the ecosystem that was removed by man in the first place.

If you do venture out in the woods, it’s recommended that you don’t walk alone and keep children close.  The best advice seems to be to walk loudly and carry a big stick.

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Stalking Geese Before Dawn

Canada Goose Bridge

Even on a flat trail, there are many disadvantages to walking in a salt marsh in the dark:  you don’t always see the puddles or the uneven wood planks on the bridge; you can’t enjoy fall’s beautiful colours; and, you never know what’s lurking in the woods, or ahead of you on the trail.  However, the hour before dawn is ideal for seeing shooting stars and listening to herons, ducks and seagulls as they awaken.  During migration season, it’s also wonderful to listen to the flocks of hundreds, if not thousands of geese that rest overnight in the salt marsh.

Geese in the Dark

Although they could be heard talking to one another in the darkness yesterday morning, by the time I arrived near their resting area today, the geese were just taking  flight.  The sound was amazingly loud as they flew above the trees.  I wondered what had startled them so early.

A flashing light soon became apparent on the trail ahead.  Hunters!  In a conservation area!  They had walked into the park using the trail and were dressed in waders.  Carrying guns, they explained that they were waiting for a boat to pick them up and take them to a spot that was beyond the park limits.  Hmmmm…

 A light from a very quiet boat could be seen approaching the shore.  It had set out across the water from a launch area situated next to nearby Rainbow Haven Provincial Park.

Canada Goose by John James Audubon

The first time I walked along the salt marsh trail in the Peter McNab Kuhn Conservation Area, hunters shot down a duck that was retrieved by their dog right next to the trail.  It was Thanksgiving Monday and not quite what I was expecting from a walk in the park.  From the trail, I could see hunters in camouflage gear lying low behind their blinds on a nearby island.  The area had probably been used for years by hunters who entered the area by boat and weren’t aware of the area’s new park status.

These days however, all hunters should be aware of park limits.  Regardless of how delectable a goose might be for Christmas dinner, somehow it just doesn’t seem right to be using a park trail to bring hunting gear into an area in order to stalk geese before first light.  Knowing the goose was hunted in that manner would certainly leave a bad taste in my mouth.

 

Deep, Sparkling Waters

The water doesn’t require the warmth of summer days to sparkle.  All it needs is a bit of light.  It adjusts the facets of its waves to receive it and then sends it back. 

The effect is pure mystery.  One of the most marvelous sights in nature to behold, it’s a wonder how light bounces on the ripples and waves.  Walking along the salt marsh trail, sparkling waters can often be seen at sunrise.  Sometimes they’re accompanied by the rush of tidal waters while at other times they’re silent, accompanied only by the sound of your feet walking on the boards of the bridge.

The shine on the surface of the water speaks nothing of the deep and dark that lie beneath.  By itself, the sparkle lends an air of lightness and fleeting happiness.  In contrast, dark waters say nothing.  They are wordless and endless, full of the inexpressible unknown.  Both the sparkling surface and the dark, pondering deep are intertwined into one body, and that is perhaps the greatest mystery of all.

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The Yellowing Landscape

Sunny yellow foliage is making its appearance on the Nova Scotia landscape.  Birches, poplars and tamaracks all transform into bright gold at this time of year.  Hot summers will often turn the leaves a dry brown before they have a chance to become yellow, but this summer’s plentiful rains and cooler temperatures promise golden hues this fall.

Some areas of the countryside change colour before others.  Some transformations from green to yellow are gradual, while others seems to magically happen overnight.

In the woods, toadstools have popped up in shady spots under trees.  There is quite a variety of them in the maritime woods, but the yellow ones are especially eye-catching and pretty.  I’m not sure if the ones in the photograph below are Yellow Patches or Yellow-orange Fly Agaric.  Both are considered inedible. 

Golden rod flowers are still in bloom although many have now turned a dull brown.  They’ve been a sign heralding the end of warm days since I was a child.  Perhaps they steal and absorb the last bits of sunshine, keeping the final rays of warmth in their roots until spring.

Like many families with loved ones on tour, a yellow ribbon is displayed in the front yard.  My son Kip arrived in Afghanistan this past week.  The yellow ribbon is a reminder to keep him and other troops in thought and prayer during their period of deployment.  We look forward to his safe return in the spring.

A haze on the far horizon,
The infinite tender sky,
The ripe, rich tints of the cornfield,
And the wild geese sailing by;
And all over upland and lowland,
The charm of the golden rod; –
Some of us call it Autumn,
And others call it God.

~ Willian Herbert Carruth

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