The droppings on the kitchen counter sparked the errand: Time to get some mouse traps. The man behind the counter at the hardware store had seen my kind with my goal often, noting, “This is the summer of mice!” Indeed. Many neighbors have reported more mice problems this summer than usual.
Speaking of more than usual: how ‘bout them dogs! Ever since the pandemic struck dog walkers have been out in force, eager to get outside to do something healthy and productive. At one point, we saw a frisky three-month-old Black Lab puppy at Paul’s Marina by the name of Hoagie. He reminded me of our beloved Black Lab named Chowder. Incidentally, it’s wise to name labs after food given their propensity to eat anything, whether edible or not. Minutes after meeting Hoagie, we saw a silver-maned old Golden Retriever, basking in the sun in his owner’s boat. “How old?” I asked. “Fourteen years,” he said, “it’s been a great run.”
One morning while walking to the mailbox to get the paper I heard a loud racket overhead, produced by a murder (a bunch) of crows. Turns out that they were squawking about a small brown fox, trotting below them along the road ahead of me. Remembering all the recent fox-with-rabies-attacks-old-man stories in the paper, I picked up a huge stick, just in case. Happily, the fox took a right turn on the next road, and all was clear to go.
“There he is again!” exclaimed my wife Tina, pointing to a majestic bald eagle, perched on a tall spruce tree in front of our house, overlooking the water. That eagle graced us for several days, often gliding off over the water in the search for food, but then faithfully returning to his favorite spot. Ospreys and cormorants and Great Blue Herons made their presence known too, along with the ubiquitous seagulls and crows. Turkeys seemed abundant along Mere Point Road, strutting right across the road, looking back for their young to catch up. And hummingbirds helicoptered over our flowers most mornings. (Fun fact: hummingbirds can consume twice their body weight every day.) Monarch butterflies floating around among the small bushes brought back memories of my sister who amassed a nice butterfly collection years ago.
It was a big summer for catching menhaden (pogeys), sometimes referred to as, “the most important fish in the summer.” Teams of fishermen using circular nets would work together to haul up thousands of these valuable fish. And it was a good summer for fishing stripers (striped bass).
It was not a good summer for a certain porcupine, the one that died beside our driveway. I called the town animal control officer to learn what to do about the thorny corpse. “Put it in the trash or throw it in the woods,” she advised. I chose the trash option, carefully wrapping it up in three heavy-duty bags.
We didn’t see as many seals in the Bay as in past years, maybe because the fishermen were removing so many of the pogeys so fast. Horseshoe crabs also seemed sparse, but little boys caught some of those small green crabs off the dock and then tossed them back, a favorite activity.
One person spotted a dolphin, a rare occurrence this far up the Bay. That said, the horrendous great white shark attack near Bailey Island, which made headlines around the world, was a sobering reminder that anything can happen. Live each day.
I’ve certainly been more aware of the birds and wildlife around me this summer. Maybe it’s just because there’s more of it out there, thanks to less road traffic noise and air pollution. The phenomenon has taken place worldwide: jackals in Tel Aviv, Israel; wild boar in the Israeli city of Haifa; a wild puma in Santiago, Chile; flamingos in Mumbai, India; and coyotes in San Francisco.
Maybe it’s because people like me have spent more hours walking outside just looking around. And that’s a pretty good thing.
David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary and suggestions for future “Just a Little Old” columns. dtreadw575@aol.com.
Comments are not available on this story.
Send questions/comments to the editors.
