Sunday, April 7, 2024

Trumpeter Swans

 

After spotting very large duck-like prints in the snow at a local marsh (my husband joked they were from a pterodactyl), we observed a lovely pair of Trumpeter Swans.  They were busy eating whatever vegetation they could find along the creek and eventually drifted in our direction.  It was such a treat to get a close up viewing.

There is still plenty of snow on the ground in our neck of the woods, but according to ebird.org, some migratory bird species have returned (goldeneye, Gadwalls, gulls, mergansers).  We've yet to go in search, but I hope to get out in the field more soon.  Some of these species only pass through on their route further north, and their time here is fleeting.  It's too early for Northern Pintails, Northern Shovelers, Arctic Terns, and yellowlegs but having daylight until 9 pm these days makes me hopeful for their return as well.   









Thursday, April 4, 2024

Why does break up take so long?

Break up is the term Alaskans use for spring.  Despite living here for six years, I still yearn for spring on lower 48 terms.  More specifically, upstate New York spring that is usually a mixture of rain, sunny days warm enough to open windows, snow, skies the bleakest shades of grey, and then suddenly trees green up/bud and migratory birds return.  Here in Alaska, this all takes ages and ages.  Last year we had snow on the ground into May, and it seems this year will be much the same.  


So you can imagine my longing as I peruse blog posts by folks outside Alaska that are full of trees in bloom with fritillaries or snow drops or daffodils on the ground.  (While we're surrounded by dirty snow and pothole filled roads yet to be repaired.)  It's a type of cruelty to myself perhaps, but it also brings me a measure of joy and appreciation while stoking my pining for early summer - which is pretty much equivalent to spring where I grew up.  

Hooded Merganser drake

While waiting, I'll content myself with signs of seasonal change such as melting snow, increasing hours of daylight and hearing the heat kick on less often.