Mockingbird, Full Moon ~ 3 a.m.

Mockingbird at 3 a.m., April Full Moon

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There’s a male Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos) who sings outside our bedroom window every Spring. Despite the fact it makes them eminently easier targets for predators, like owls, they like to perch in the highest tree tops, and our house is at the top of the hill.

In Spring, on quiet nights when there’s a full moon, he sings all night long. So loud he wakes me from sleep, even with the windows closed. At 3 a.m., unable to go back to sleep, I gave up. Went outside with a microphone and a camera. The trees are budding out, and it’s a warm night with a soft breeze.

Just so happens I’m reading a book by a local author, whose daughter played soccer with ours. She often writes for National Geographic and Smithsonian, and we’d sometimes share conversations on the sidelines during practice about the topics she was researching. The book is called The Genius of Birds, by Jennifer Ackerman.

It’s a great book, an easy read, full of fascinating info. I just finished a section about Mockingbirds. Apparently, Thomas Jefferson (whose house I pass several times a day) kept one as a pet in the White House when he was President. His name was Dick. Dick not only sang a variety of songs by local birds from the nearby woods, but also a fair rendition of several American, Scottish, and French melodies. Jefferson was so fond of the bird it was allowed to follow him throughout the house during the day.

Mockingbirds will acquire hundreds of phrases in a library of sounds they can imitate, switching between them at the rate of 17 or 18 a minute with such accuracy that in sonograms they are almost indiscernible from the originals. And not just of other birds – car alarms, cats, people, sirens, whatever strikes their fancy. All using a brain about the size of a pea.

No wonder I can’t sleep.

This one is on a roll again, just like previous years. Though I’m only outside listening for a few minutes, I pick out a couple of hawks, Osprey, Cardinals, Robins, Sparrows, etc..

They sing to impress the ladies, of course, and will risk their lives to do so; but they don’t just sing during mating season. The rest of the year they sing just because it makes them feel good. Brain scans show singing gives them pleasure and comfort, so they often do it whether anyone else is listening or not. Just for themselves.

 

 

The Sea is Indifferent

Sometimes the is sea is benign, sometimes it is dangerous; always it is indifferent.

Gunnar Hansen

I was given a good book recently by a friend at a poker game. Tom worked for many years at a well-loved used bookstore near the university. Toots, his wife, recently retired as a librarian. They’ve never owned a TV, to my knowledge. Needless to say, they are good sources of good books. The walls of their house are insulated with them, on shelves stacked floor to ceiling.

Tom still wanders into any used bookstore he passes, disappearing for hours I imagine, and at yard sales skips the rusty tools and goes straight for the tables where the books are kept. With so much experience sifting, he has a knack for finding unusual gems he knows will interest me.

This one, Islands at the Edge of Time by Gunnar Hansen, is out of print; but used ones are still available on Amazon.

 

 

It covers all the types of barrier islands along the East Coast, from Texas to Maine, with a special emphasis on the ones I know best – where my parents live between Charleston and Savannah, and of course the Outer Banks of North Carolina, Ocracoke and Portsmouth Islands. The way they are formed, how they shift and change shape constantly, etc.; all of which is eminently interesting if you have spent any time on them.

But it also explores the history of these barren and tenuous places, the people who are drawn to them; and the special feeling of desolation and power surrounding you there, where wind and water and sand alter the landscape constantly.

 

Maine ~ Bucksport & Castine

School on the Commons ~ Castine, Maine

 

From the airport in Bangor to Stonington, at the southern tip of Deer Isle, should take about an hour and a half. We spend four hours doing the same, winding along the Penobscot River, stopping in towns along the way, generally assuming the least straight path presented.

First stop is Bucksport, where there’s a farmers market still open. Terri, very excited, insists we stop, and goes in for provisions. She gets caught in various eddies, long chats with local farmers, and does not resurface. I wander the main street, still a little too travel-frazzled for conversation. We had reserved a little Toyota Corolla rental car in advance, but by the time we arrived those were all gone. So, for the same rate, they gave us the only thing left – a fancy new Cadillac. This would normally be a good thing.

 

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Tangier Island Homecoming ~ Chesapeake Float 2015

video: Mailboat entering Mailboat Harbor on Tangier Island

direct Youtube link 

 

Two other times I’ve been to Tangier. Once as a boy of 12, my grandparents took us – me, my brother and sister – on the ferry from Reedville, Virginia, just up the road from where they lived, where I spent summers. Thirty years later, when my own daughters were the same age, I took them over on the same ferry. Ten years later still, on the mailboat from Crisfield, will be the third time. What’s most surprising is not how much has changed in all that time, but how very, very little.

 

 

 

Our group meets for breakfast down by the town dock at the Waterside Cafe. (It’s good hearty food, with omelettes that cover a dinner plate and endless coffee.) From there the we split and parts ways. Some head back to the campsite to sleep and read through the rainy day; others drive south to scout the lower peninsula; five of us wait on the dock to board a boat for Tangier.

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Camping Out the Storm ~ Chesapeake Float 2015

 Crossing Tangier Sound

 

Getting out of Smith Island at low tide is proving a surprising challenge. A text comes through from home saying the storm knocked out the power, the same front heading our way. VHF weather says rain and high wind, with gusts to 30+. We dallied longer over lunch than prudent, we realize, and now dark clouds are filling the sky to the southwest.

Everyone ties in reefs and shoves off. We have three miles of sailing within Smith Island just to get out, and all dead into a wind still coming from the southeast. Beyond that it’s another 7 miles to across Tangier Sound. A couple of hours of sailing, at best. That’s a lot of time for wind and waves to build in the Sound.

Continue reading “Camping Out the Storm ~ Chesapeake Float 2015”

Site Change and RSS Feed update

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For a long time now, the blog portion of this site has been by far the most active. Started as a side project, I had no idea whether it would carry on or fizzle. That was over 8 years and 470 posts ago. Meanwhile, the old EyeInHand portion of the site has remained all but static.

Probably should have done this a long time ago, but over the next few days the site will change, making the blog the new Homepage. All links to www.eyeinhand.com will arrive at the latest blog post on Marginalia.

The only downside is this could change the URLs of the RSS feeds. A number of people subscribe this way, which is why I’m making the announcement in advance – this may be the last post that comes through the old feeds.

If you’re a subscriber, thank you. Please return in a few days and resubscribe. There are a number of new posts queued up, including sailing trips, videos, exploring the Columbia River Gorge, and sailing and hiking around Monterey, California.

Cheers,
Barry