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As I headed to the trail cam last Wednesday, I heard a scurry-type sound in the bushes. Two of them actually.  As I rounded a bush, I saw a fox kit crouching low.

I crouched too.

Then I backed up slowly, slowly, and sat high on a banking looking down.

The little fox kit surprised me. He didn’t run back for the den. He didn’t hide. He continued to root around the tall grasses and piles of dead branches that had been left behind after the landowner did some tree cutting.

Every now and then, the kit would look at me.

Right in the eye.

When I didn’t move, he’d go back to rooting around.

He ate grass and found little caterpillars . . .

And while I don’t have images of it, I suspect he ate them for lunch.

I never did make it to the trail cam. I didn’t want to upset his home . . . or his backyard, so to speak.  I sure hope they stick around for a little bit though.

I like knowing they’re around.

After the second owlet branched from their nesting spot, we lost sight of them for awhile. My campers would stop by the office to ask, “Have you seen them? Are they okay?” To which I had no sure answer.

Until quite by accident, I stumbled across them in the most unlikely place – on a dead tree on the very edge of the lake!

Through tree branches, I watched and took photos.

They watched me, too.

Once, a large raptor flew overhead and I could tell the minute one of the owlets saw it.

I pointed my camera upward just in time to catch a glimpse of an osprey.  For the thousandth time, I wondered why on earth these young owlets, who could barely fly, were in such an open, exposed area.

When the danger passed, they went back to taking turns napping again.

The next day, they were gone yet again. Deeper into the forest this time, one of my employees tells me.   Thank goodness!  I’m not too sure I like the look that osprey was giving them!

Just a couple days ago, I was lakeside, when suddenly, the female eagle cried out several times.  I looked up, down, and all around, but I couldn’t see anything more than a lone goose, swimming along in front of their island.

Then she stopped and looked up expectantly.

And I saw him, in the distance. He circled and circled and circled the nest, eventually coming in for a landing.

He stood watch while she ate and cared for the eaglets.

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating . . . eagles are great parents!

I was staring out my back window, sipping coffee, when an adult fox wandered through our campground maintenance area.  I set my coffee cup down so hard, liquid sloshed over the sides onto the table.

“Quick! I need my camera! Where’d I put it?” I cried, running from the campground desk to my writing closet and back again.

“I didn’t have it last,” my husband teased. He never has it, actually.

Eventually I found the camera, and sighed with relief to find the fox still there. Which in itself was a little surprising, because we don’t see them often and when we do, they’re passing through.

Turns out, this one was doing more than passing through.

It was collecting a cache.  Stored food – hidden days, weeks or even months before.

I slowly, slowly, slowly, opened my window, which was three stories up from the fox’s location.   It looked up, but when I stilled, it went right back to searching.

Eventually, it found its prize and pulled it from the earth.

Then chomped on it for awhile.

I took photo after photo after photo!  It was gorgeous. And a learning experience for me.   I’d written about foxes and their caches in Mystery of the Missing Fox, but had never seen it first-hand.

More importantly, I believe its being so close to the house, is that perhaps the kits have been born.  My trail camera should show me in mid-April, when the first kit emerges from the den into the sunlight.

Once the cache was eaten, this adult didn’t stay long.

It continued on its way, back toward the den.

I’m so glad I saw it, when I did.

Our eagles seem to be doing well, in spite of the 50+ mph winds taking place today.

I sure hope she doesn’t get sea sick up there!

I collected the SD cards from the trail cameras this past weekend.  I had my fingers crossed the whole way down and back, hoping for some fox footage.

And I got lucky.  There was only one video  and this is it . .. .

Back on November 1st, I’d promised to keep you updated on our eagles as they got closer to nesting season.

Well, that time is here.

Yesterday, I donned my snowshoes to trek to the lake. The very first thing I do, is take a picture of the nest to compare.

Here’s the nest last April.  The nesting eagle had been quite upset at a juvenile eagle who’d been flying around the lake that day.

Here is what I saw yesterday . . .

They’ve been adding a stick here and a branch there.

Every year I worry about the weight.  The wildlife biologist who’d come to band the eagles a few years ago had said it weighed approximately 700 to 800 pounds!  Can you imagine!?

I saw no sign of the eagles that day, but they’ve been here.  These pictures prove it.

I’m looking forward to documenting our nesting pair this year!  To give you a timeline, they were sitting on eggs March 24th last year. I happened to be at the lake during one of their mating attempts a few weeks before that. And the eaglets were born a week before we opened the campground May 1st.  We still have a few weeks to go!

But it’s worth the wait.

Every year, I look forward to hosting my writer’s group to a working weekend here at Poland Spring Campground.  Fall is the time when I transition from primarily working on campground “stuff” to digging into writing projects.  So meeting with other writers, sharing in their celebrations, hearing their struggles, brainstorming ideas and projects . . . it helps to motivate and inspire me.  Spur me forward.

This year, I’m especially excited to share photos of the weekend with my students, because the critique circle, and its rules, are something Shannon and I have used in the classroom  with great success.  Knowing “real writers” use this method to give feedback on their work, makes the students more willing to share and trust in the classroom circle, too.

Bottom of the circle, clockwise: Jeanne Bracken, Denise Ortakales, Mary Morton Cowan, Anna Jordan, Joyce Johnson, Nancy Cooper, Mona Pease, Meg Frazer Blakemore, Val Giogas, Andrea Tompa, Laura Hamor.

The authors and I worked hard, beginning at 8:30 with a “What’s New With You” whip around.  Joining us this Fall, was our visiting editor Andrea Tompa from Candlewick Press. Each author has 20 minutes of time and everyone contributes to the feedback. Once  again, I’m humbled and grateful for the in-person comments, support and loving-nudging that flew around the circle.

We have writers and illustrators, non-fiction and fiction, with picture book, middle grade, historical fiction, and Young Adult manuscripts in various stages.  Some of us are published, some are very close. The projects read this year were absolutely fascinating!

I’m most excited to bring back to the classroom, a picture book dummy from Laura. It’ll be a great tool, when we start our graphic novel unit.

We worked hard, breaking every so often for movement.  And of course, lunch.  By 2:30 we were onto a Q & A with Andrea about the industry.  And by 4:00, it was time to take a walk, kayak or read under the trees, before gathering again for supper.

Top: Laura, Anna, Denise, Nancy Middle: Mary, Val, Joyce Bottom: Meg, Mona, Me, Andrea, Jeanne

And this morning, those of us who stayed the night, met for coffee in the office and decided to go for a quick early morning kayak ride .  . .

In the rain, of course.

The rain passed.  Loons flew directly overhead, so close we heard their wings cutting through the air.  Still other loons called back and forth from area lakes, chorus style.  And eagle flew down the shoreline. The sun came out.  The wind picked up.  We headed back.

Now six of us are left here at the campground, working, writing, revising.  Inspired by each other to keep doing what we love.  Driven to put the perfect words, in the perfect order, to write the story we were meant to write.

And tomorrow, I’ll share all this with my students.

Then ask them to do the same.

The adult eagles are on and off the nest, bringing food to their two eaglets.  They’re never very far away, keeping watch, keeping their little ones safe.

Look at the difference in the talons in these next two pictures. Aren’t they amazing?

So how do they manage to keep from harming their own chicks.  By curling them, when they walk on the nest themselves.

Feeding the eaglets is a full time job right now!

Every time I go lakeside, I can hear them crying for attention.

I bet the poor parents are tired!

The view from the back side of the nest isn’t as clear as from the front.

Especially since the eagles have done some rearranging and seem to be moving large sticks to that side as the eaglets get bigger.

Even after all these years, I still manage to record a new-to-me behavior!  They’re amazing creatures!  Graceful in flight. Great parents. Strong builders.

I’m very grateful to have the opportunity to study them year round, and to use that research in Mystery of the Eagle’s Nest, as well as sharing my nature adventures with campers and readers all over New England.

I can’t wait to see what eagle adventures I witness this coming summer!

So very many reasons to celebrate this week ~

First off, it’s Teacher Appreciation week!    I’ve met many amazing educators the last few years.  I’m blessed to work in RSU16, a district in which the staff is not only knowledgeable, but welcoming and inspiring, too.  They’re cheerleaders in and out of the brick and mortar buildings we work in. As a teacher, and a parent, I’ve seen first-hand how they go above and beyond to make sure students get the education, time and attention they need.

I’ve also been privileged to meet incredible teachers and librarians outside my district while promoting and teaching Cooper and Packrat.   They have so many creative ideas when it comes to teaching literacy, and I’ve learned so much through my visits to their schools and literacy events, from their tweets and Facebook posts.  Thank you all!

This also happens to be  Children’s Book Week; the annual celebration of children’s books and reading. I was a little surprised to see Children’s Book Week was instituted in 1919, and is the longest-running national literacy initiative in the country. That’s 96 years, people! 96 years!!  BRAVO!

And, last but not least, my campground opened this week, too!

We had a happy, energetic group of campers who raked our sites and roads in exchange for donuts and camping!  We couldn’t have had better weather for it, either. We’re off to a great start to the 2015 Season!!

For these reasons and more, I’ve decided it’s time for another Cooper and Packrat giveaway for teachers and librarians, in appreciation for all they do.

I have two sets of Cooper and Packrat, Books 1 and 2, to give away.  Teachers and librarians, all you have to do is leave your name, school and favorite summer memory from your childhood in the comments below by midnight, Friday, May 8th. If it’s a camping memory, your name will be entered twice! (Please don’t post on FB or Twitter, even though I’ll promote it there, as I’m afraid of missing someone’s entry)

And this Saturday, I’ll have my camp readers pull two names as winners.

Good luck!

Yesterday, as I walked the red-blazed trail through the campground and along the shoreline of Lower Range Pond, I looked out over the water and gasped!

My loons were back!

The ice had only been out for a day!  Somehow, they always manage to time it perfectly.

The pair called back and forth, location calls.  My eyes got teary hearing them, I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed it.

Whenever their call rings out, people stop what they’re doing to turn toward the sound.

Hopefully, we’ll have a successful nesting season this year, as the last two years did not yield chicks. ( If you click on the Random Loon Tag on the right of this post, you’ll find the blog posts describing why.)

I should be revising, channeling fox kits for book three, as the Mystery of the Missing Fox  is due to my editor next month.  But the sun has just poked its way through the clouds and I cannot resist going down to the lake to find these gorgeous birds and to hear their call again.

The manuscript will be there when I get back.

Somewhere around March 24th, the eagle pair settled in on their eggs.

Look at that smile!

Each egg was laid three days apart and thirty-five days from then, chicks will be born.  Both adults take turns sitting on the nest, and they’ll turn the eggs approximately every two hours.

After the eggs are laid and the eagles start their long sit-in, or as I like to call it, a snuggle-in, I will always see one on the nest. They won’t leave those eggs alone. They’ll keep them warm and dry and safe to predators in the air, such as ravens. Or predators from down below, like raccoons.

When I trudge to the lake now, through the 6 inches of snow which lays over most of the campground, I can count on seeing the one on the beautiful nest they built.

Eyes to the sky though, I’m looking for the mate not on the nest. And if I’m lucky, I’ll witness something amazing like this . . .

One eagle bringing sticks to the nest, adding on to the castle, so to speak.

Or a juvenile, soaring overhead, but not daring to come near.

A hawk looking for its next meal.

But what I’m most anxious for, is eaglets.

It won’t be long now.

The campground is silent, blanketed in our first snowfall.  Today I walked my trail, the first human footprints made.  I say human, because I could see where the fox had trekked ahead of me.

It was a beautiful walk, although I didn’t see any wildlife to take photos of until I returned to my own front yard, where the birds were feasting on the sunflower seeds I’d put out before I left.  I caught these images of a chickadee digging into one . . .

First he peeled the outer layer

When my camera made its clicking sound, he looked right at me, as if to say, “Mine!”

Then he went back to it, checking me out every so often to see if I was still there.

Eventually he pulled the meat out.

I thought he’d swallow it whole, but no, he put it back between his feet and proceeded to have his Thanksgiving dinner.

And as he swallowed the last bite, he looked back up at the feeder, wondering he had room for seconds.

I hope everyone had a wonderful and safe Thanksgiving.  May the weeks and days leading up to Christmas be joyful.

Cindy Lord met me on the porch of my campground office at 5am last Friday morning.  After I made a pot of coffee and filled my stainless steel cup with the hot, dark liquid I craved at that time of day, we trekked to the lake to put our kayaks in the lake.

We were in time to witness the dancing mist on the water and the rising sun over the trees.

I looked for muskrats, herons and wood ducks.  But as is often the case with Cindy and I, it was a loon we saw first.  I can’t remember the last time we were together and we didn’t see one.

A second loon flew overhead a few moments later. We watched as they two of them  greeted each other for a few minutes before swimming off down the lake.

Cindy and I traveled the same path as the pair, talking, sharing author-ly stories and just plain catching up on life. Every now and then, we’d run into the loons again . . .

We’d snap a few more photos and chat again until we were rendered speechless by the sight of an adult eagle in the distance.

At first, he appeared to be sitting in peace.  But the caw of a crow told a different story.

It didn’t take long to see the eagle was being harassed.  The crow called and buzzed him, until eventually, the poor eagle took flight to escape all the noise and hubbub.

He landed in another tree, closer to us.  The crow wasn’t giving up that easily though.

A second crow joined the first in making the eagle’s life as miserable as possible.

All the while, the eagle looked out over the lake regally, appearing to ignore them as best as he could .

But even the mighty eagle can only take so much.  The crow buzzed the eagle one too many times . . .

until the eagle spread his wings and fell off the branch,

It was the most beautiful thing to see . . .

his wings filling with air before lifting up into the sky . . .

soaring . . .

over hour heads . . .

then down along the lake toward the campground.

Cindy and I smiled at each other, much as I imagined Cooper and Packrat do, before we  pickied up our paddles to follow the eagle home, to the campground.

Thanks to the reminder from a friend on Middle Range Pond, I finally remembered to join in on Maine’s Loon Count.  I’d always wanted to . . . planned to . . .  then the date would come and go and I’d  miss it.

Not this year!

As I dragged my kayak into knee-deep water,  6:35ish Saturday morning, I smiled to think of all the other Maine volunteers.   Some would take to boats and kayaks like me. Some would stand on the shoreline with binoculars.  But all would be watching, counting and documenting their findings from 7 – 7:30am on this day.

It felt kind of awesome to be a part of something that big.

Because I had to be back at the campground office to open it up at 8am, my plan was to kayak down to the state park end of the lake, and then slowly paddle back during the recording time, because I knew I couldn’t cover the whole lake in half an hour, but the loons seem to hang out on this end more than the firestation-end.

I’d barely dipped my paddle half a dozen times, when I saw a loon through the early morning fog.

I looked at the time on my phone.  6:40am.  Way too early to count.

But not too early to snap photos.

I stuck to my plan and headed toward the State Park.  To my surprise, the loon kept time with me.  I paddled slightly left to give some space between us, and it went left with me.  I slowed down, and it slowed down too.

“I guess you want to be counted,” I said, making conversation.

The loon just looked at me.

6:50am.

I couldn’t resist.  I snapped a few more pictures

and then the loon looked upward.

A second loon flew in and landed, before I could turn the lens on him.

I looked at the time . . .

7:01am.

“Well, who told you about the party?” I asked out loud.

The two loons didn’t pay me any mind.  They greeted each other, swimming in circles, hooting and dipping their bills into the water (not their heads, just the bills).  It looked to me as if one had been waiting for the other.

Not even five minutes later, one of the two looked toward the end of the lake and hooted softly.  A third loon had appeared!  I had just scanned that area with my long camera lens and hadn’t seen him. Perhaps he’d been under water.  Perhaps he flew in too.

But here he was.

7:08am

I watched for just a couple minutes more while sipping coffee.  The loons parted ways; the two staying together on the right side of the lake, while the last to arrive went off on his own to the left.

I dipped my paddle to begin the trek back to the campground.  Even though I poked into every little inlet and scanned the middle of the lake in front of the campground, no other loons appeared.

So ‘three’, was my answer on the paperwork.

Three adult loons on Lower Range Pond.

When Islandport asked me to meet with a videographer, to talk about the inspiration behind Cooper and Packrat, I said, “Sure!”

But as the date got closer and closer,  I became more and more nervous. What should I say?  How would I stand?  Where would we film it?  And more importantly,

What would I wear!?

The morning of, I still hadn’t finalized all I wanted to say.  What hadn’t been said or blogged about already?  I found myself awake at 5am, so I headed out in my kayak, determined to find some inspiration.

And there, in the middle of the lake, it all came together.

I remembered why I’d written Cooper’s story.  I remembered the reader’s letters I’d received so far, and some of the questions they’d asked me along the way.

Looking back, I need not have worried so.  The videographer, John McCain, put me right at ease by asking about all my favorite things.  The books, the campground and the wildlife.   We took a walk around the campground first and of course, he wanted to film on the lake’s edge.

After we were done taping my talk, Dave and I took John on a tour of the lake to find the loons and eagles.  It happened to be a glorious day, and we spent quite awhile out there, enjoying the views.

After I’d said goodbye to John, and he assured me the video would be wonderful, I looked at David and said, “Whew!  That wasn’t so bad.  But I’m glad it’s done.”

Little did I know, right at that moment, there was an e-mail in my in-box from Melissa, telling me they were sending a photographer in a couple weeks to get “a few photos”.

Ack!

This is the eagle’s nest from last fall.

The eagles have been busy.  And not six months busy.  This is how much the nest grew in the last TWO WEEKS!

As I headed to the lake today, I hoped to see just one of the eagles.  Instead, at the half way point, I peeked through the trees to see two!

I hurried to get a closer look.  Images of clear, flight photos ran through my head.  I walked on top the snow (which is quite rare nowadays, I don’t mind admitting) and I slipped a bit as I tried to get to to the lake’s edge.  Cradling the camera, I began to walk slower with one eye on the prize.

Then I hit the last fifty feet.  I crunched.  I cracked.

And the eagle’s flew away . . .

I cannot wait to document our 2014 Eagle Adventure.  Especially with Mystery of the Eagle’s Nest being released in August . . .

Come back often for eagle updates!

Whew, it’s been awhile since I posted, but Cooper’s second adventure needed to be written in spite of a busy campground and school starting. Every spare minute went to his and Packrat’s story.   I’m happy to report it’s done.

Okay, it’s not totally done.  The first draft is done.  Before I dig into the many revisions to come, and while it’s being read by a keen eye for feedback, I finally got a chance to take my camera on the trails.

I’d been itching to go since I’d had a wildlife tip from one of my young campers, “Where were you all day, Tami!” he’d said, early Sunday morning.  “It was RIGHT THERE!”

The blue heron he was talking about wasn’t quite “right there” by the time I got lakeside.  I followed the trail, in hopes of seeing something, anything.  But then I stumbled upon him wading silently amongst the lily pads . . .

I quickly crouched down to hide behind a small bush.  He’d seen me though, and we stayed still, staring at each other for at least ten minutes.  Him measuring me.  Me willing him to stay put long enough to take a couple pictures.

Stay, he did.

He even started preening, feather by feather.

I took over two hundred photos of this gorgeous juvenile heron.

When I had enough, I thanked him quietly.  Then we both left.

I hope I meet him again sometime.

Grabbing my largest camera lens, the tripod and an extra battery, I plodded down to the lake this morning.  I was bound and determined to get photos ~ good photos~ ~ of the baby, or babies.  I still wasn't positive of how many there were.  Campers had reported two, but I hadn't managed to see it for myself yet.  And ~ well ~ I really needed proof before I could announce it officially on the campground blog.

When I arrived, I found quite a few campers with their binoculars trained on the nest.  Yet none could claim to have seen two. 

For at least fifteen minutes, I only got glimpses of the one baby





The other campers and I talked about how one baby will sometimes (shudder) eat the other . . . or they get dehydrated and die . . . or one pushes the other out of the nest.  "I guess we're down to one," I said.

But then, this next photo gave me hope . . .



And then the second baby made an appearance!





Whew!  I was getting a little nervous there.



Now, if I could just locate those loons!  The pair were seen together yesterday, which is not a good sign as far as their nesting goes.  Usually, one parent stays on the eggs at all times, and usually they're on them by now.   Still, the ice went out late this year, so perhaps there's still time . . .

Most of you know I maintain two blogs . . . this one for my writing and the other for Maxwell Moose, our campground mascot.

For anyone who's interested,   here's a link to Maxwell's version of our walk to the lake for eagle photos.

Happy Memorial Day!!!


It was an incredibly busy weekend.  All 132 sites were full, full, full!  Lots of new families, lots of returning families.

Here's some interesting happenings:

1)  Kids actually went swimming.  SWIMMING!  The pool water was only 60 degrees.  And the air on Friday and Saturday was only 60 degrees.  I guess the lure of summer fun was too great to resist.  Sunday was deliciously warm though . . .

2) The dragonfly nymphs arrived Thursday night. 



Dave sprinkled them around the swampy edge of the lake Friday morning.  It's our version of mosquito control. Every year I marvel at how  this (shudder) bug turns out to be beautiful winged creature, eating thousands of mosquitos an hour.

3)   An adorable four year old boy paid for his own ice cream one afternoon.  He plopped his money on the counter as Mom stood nearby watching.   I counted out his change and handed it to him.  "Thanks!" I said. 

"Have a nice day," he said.

I swear, the whole store collectively stopped to say  "Awwwww!"

4)   One of my teenage campers brought me this metallic looking bug



It was pretty cool looking . . . no one had ever seen one before.  I wish I had more of a close up - but the one I took was too fuzzy to make out the details. 

5)  Another young man challenged  me, NOT to break an egg.  He had me put one egg tip in the palm of my left hand, and the other end in the palm of my right hand. 

"Now squeeze!" he said. 

I did.  And it didn't break!!!

What a pretty weekend we've had.  Especially considering they predicted rain.  That's twice in a row now they've been wrong.  And campers wonder why we don't refund based on weather.  Just wait a minute . . . it'll change!

It was very low key here at the campground, but the weekends before a holiday usually are. I have a feeling people say to themselves, "If I'm going to play next weekend, I better stay home and ___(insert some household chore/yard work here)___  this weekend."

It was so quiet, in fact,  I even managed to sit by one of these



Storytelling over the dancing, crackling flames of a campfire is such an age old tradition, isn't it?   Friends sitting in a circle, catching up on their lives, sharing laughs or worries.  Words flow back and forth, swirling around like the smoke from the fire. 

Nothing's better than a campfire on a cool spring night. 

Unless, of course, your adorable son is sharing some of these . . .

Author: De Negro, Janice
Rating:
Reading Level: 4th - 6th grade