June Journal... from the archives

We often have swans visiting in June. Sometimes in other months as well. Most stay for an hour or two, a few overnight. One January, a mated pair walked across the frozen pond to the sliver of open water that glistened by our dock. A particular swan we grew very fond of, who is part of another story, stayed for two weeks, long enough to be named Prou, after Swan's Way.
June 14th
On grey days such as this the pond takes on the pallor of the sky, intensifying it. The water always acts a mirror. The ducks are resting on the dock and even they are quieter when the sun is absent. They do not mind the rain, though not even they like to get pelted in the face with it. They seem happier when the sun is out as we all do.
A Fisher Cat was calling from the woods two days ago at noon which was very unusual and worrisome. He could be heard last night making his way around the pond. The Fisher did visit our patio once and it was a frightening animal to behold so close. About three times as large as a raccoon and of the same color though with a black wizened face and narrow snout. He growled very threateningly and scurried off. His calls at night sound like a baby being strangled- a terrible sound. We hope he will move off elsewhere into wilder terrain.
A Fisher Cat was calling from the woods two days ago at noon which was very unusual and worrisome. He could be heard last night making his way around the pond. The Fisher did visit our patio once and it was a frightening animal to behold so close. About three times as large as a raccoon and of the same color though with a black wizened face and narrow snout. He growled very threateningly and scurried off. His calls at night sound like a baby being strangled- a terrible sound. We hope he will move off elsewhere into wilder terrain.
June 15th
There is a curious lack of ducklings this late in the breeding season. Of the resident mallards, a dozen are male and four are female. All four seem to have mates and yet where are the off spring? A month ago the smallest one, singled out for her diminutive size and lack of a mate, or a strong one at least, was continually harassed. We witnessed attacks that resembled gang rape. We did not know this act was even part of their behavior until we did some research and discovered, to our horror, that it was not unusual, if uncommon. Thankfully, things have since settled down. The flock provides good company for our lone Canada Goose- more on her later. The resident red squirrels, in contrast, have brought forth two of their kind who are being shown around their domain, perhaps by the mother. They are nearly full size already, scampering about, chasing each other through the treetops, trilling at danger or in annoyance at each other. Last year at this time we witnessed an enormous snapping turtle who had apparently emerged from the pond to lay her eggs across the road in an abandoned cranberry bog. We will keep our eyes out for her.
In noticing the comings and goings of our neighbors here, and as they observe ours, we feel part of this waterfront community, or should it be called family, in a way that makes each day richer.
In noticing the comings and goings of our neighbors here, and as they observe ours, we feel part of this waterfront community, or should it be called family, in a way that makes each day richer.
June 16th
My friend John Hay often spoke of how misguided we were in our search for a connection to the wild. He believed that it is only through really knowing the place where we live, entering into a relationship with it, its rhythms and its inhabitants, that we can connect with the natural world, and thereby with ourselves. These far-flung adventures- the invasions of wilderness areas- always seemed to cause more problems for the wildlife then the protection of them the adventurers purport to be about. He saw it as another form of exploitation and self-inflation. And as far as knowing oneself- of being an authentic self in the world- that can only be found in the moment exactly where you are. He did not mean on the couch or sitting on a cushion. His greatest teacher was nature and the wild is all around us.
June 17th
My father loved the water. We spent every summer on it- whether pond, pool, lake, ocean, or river. But it was the ocean he loved the most. When I took a year off from college to live with friends on the Cape I remember him writing, in what would be his last letter, Enjoy it for me. I did and I do still. I think of him this morning and how he would en-joy this little place sparkling in the summer light, one of 365 ponds here surrounded by the sea...
June 20th
The Summer Solstice dawns with summer warmth. The waterfowl are quiet, seeking shade, yet the bullfrogs are loudly trumpeting their whereabouts and pleasure among the water lilies. The weather changes have been so extreme this year that at times it is unsettling. That seasonal rhythm, with its variations certainly but fewer extremes, seems so altered as to be entirely unpredictable. Even those of us who have always been New Englanders feel a difference. Many were content with the winter just past, of less cold, no snow or ice, like Cape Cod winters of old they say. But we knew there would have to be adjustments made during the summer to balance the whole. Even if there are shifts occurring in the climate, nature is resilient and does what she has to to find balance. I have noticed this positive re-adjustment: The number of frogs on the pond has risen this late spring, back to numbers present several years ago. It may be possible that because they were undisturbed by swimmers, boaters, and fishermen, due to the colder than usual spring, they had a chance to re-establish themselves.
June 21st
Sultry warmth has slowed down all life on the pond this morning- only a single Green Heron trawls back and forth across the surface with his strange gutteral call. Occasionally one of the frogs hrumphs from the shallows. We are grateful for the coolness of the house.
June 23rd
What news from the pond? This morning a gauzy cloud of vapor permeates the air. It is as if you can see the humidity. The rain so far has passed us by, evaporating as it sails past. The leaves hang with a rich heavy green, willow fronds sweep the water where the lilies abound. Still, for lack of traffic and its disturbances, the lily pads are thick and deep and host our chorus of frogs at night. The lilies are a perfect home for them. Their long stalks reach up from the pond bottom, the flower opening with the daylight, spreading its wings into the white flower that floats on the surface all day absorbing sunlight. By late afternoon, it closes into a tight-fisted bulb that sinks just below the water's surface among the flat and shiny green leaves we call pads. Kayakers and fisherman often thrash through these thickets unaware that once cut off from their source at the bottom the lily will die off.
This sudden influx of summer weather has called forth not only the frogs at night but also the fireflies seeking each other out as well, not with song but phosphorescent light, twinkling in air and bush- summer's magic show. The waterfowl has long since mated though, oddly, the young are scarce. The kingfisher pair seems to enjoy each other's company as they practice their aeronautics and thrilling high dives into the pond. The muskrat mother swims languidly by now, foraging for her young who she recently moved to their summer quarters. A day like any other and uniquely its own.
This sudden influx of summer weather has called forth not only the frogs at night but also the fireflies seeking each other out as well, not with song but phosphorescent light, twinkling in air and bush- summer's magic show. The waterfowl has long since mated though, oddly, the young are scarce. The kingfisher pair seems to enjoy each other's company as they practice their aeronautics and thrilling high dives into the pond. The muskrat mother swims languidly by now, foraging for her young who she recently moved to their summer quarters. A day like any other and uniquely its own.
June 24th

The Milky Way was visible in the evening sky over the pond last night- always a wondrous sight. The fact that we can see the galaxy in which we reside is one of those mind opening experiences that comes from viewing the night sky. The Milky Way galaxy is a 360〫band of stars surrounding our planet which explains how we can see it, though only part of it: we are looking up into the band, of which we are a part, as it encircles the Earth. Finding our place in the universe/multiverse is akin to finding it here at home, observing and participating in the daily life that surrounds and encompasses us here on the pond. This image was taken from Wiki - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milky_Way