Share: 

A wacky spring: late osprey and quiet peepers?

April 7, 2017

There’s a pond near Nassau, just to the south of the Route 1 overpass. The new Lewes Fire Department Station 2 stands nearby, and Nassau Valley Vineyards. Fringed in hardwoods and cattails, the pond and an adjacent marshy area might have been the result of a borrow pit dug for earth needed several decades back to build the overpass approaches.

But that’s not the point of the pond for this column. The point is that I pass by the pond many mornings at about 5:30 a.m. when the sound of traffic on the nearby highway doesn’t fill the air. At this time of the year, though, a chorus of the little frogs known as spring peepers should be heralding the arrival of spring. But so far they’ve been quiet.

Is the reason related to why only a third of my daffodils bloomed this year? Or why the ornamental cherry trees that usually come on in a pink blizzard in Lewes and Rehoboth fizzled? Did the blooms and the frogs get excited by the warmth of February only to be frozen by the cold of March?

And why were the ospreys so late in coming back this year? Usually I look for them between March 7 and St. Patrick’s Day. This year, though, the first reports didn’t start filtering in until right around March 20, the first day of spring. Then when they did start showing up, it was like they came in flocks. Young males were flying and hovering all over the place staking out nesting spots to attract females. Older males chased away the young guys trying to usurp last year’s turf.

“Hey, don’t get too comfortable on that nest, young fella. Just because you were conceived, hatched and fledged on that nest last year doesn’t mean you get to come back for another year this time around. Go find your own perch. Mama and I have to get to work on a new brood.”

So all along the coast now they’re soaring, singing their distinctive, high-pitched, brassy whistles as they hover over potential nesting sites. One day they were gone. Two days later there were dozens along the marshes, canals, rivers and bays.

Bucky told me he drove out on Oyster Rocks Road one day last week. There’s an osprey nest near the landing, in the marsh not far from the Broadkill. “I’ve seen an eagle hanging around there this winter, but when the ospreys came back this year they weren’t about to allow that eagle to take their nest. I sat there and watched as they steady dove on that eagle until they drove it away. It was the damndest thing. I’ve seen eagles dive at ospreys and take fish from them, but never the other way around.”

Wildlife and nature are an endless source of entertainment for those who go out and watch patiently. That’s why it’s so important to preserve habitat for them in this wildlife haven known as Sussex County.

Story of a dead fox

One day last week I was talking to LeeAnn. Her daughter Billie lives next door. “Billie said there’s a dead fox between her house and yours. Why do you think that fox died?”

“Don’t know,” I said. “Maybe disease.”

Thinking I’d take a look the next morning, after peeper patrol, I remembered two days before looking out my window and seeing a vulture perched on my chimney. Not wanting it to get in the habit of hanging out there, I chunked a clam shell at it and it flew off. Little did I know it was fixing to do the job nature has assigned to vultures.

The next morning I found the fox alongside my shed. Other than the fact it was dead, it looked pretty healthy.

The fox looked like it had simply laid down and died; its fur looked thick and shiny, and the tail was full. Billie said she thought about fetching the tail, but I said the possibility of disease probably softened the appeal of that idea.

When I lifted the fox with a long-handled shovel to put it in a plastic trash bag for disposal, I was amazed at how light it was. I’ve felt heavier cats - plenty heavier.

Foxes in our coastal towns aren’t unusual. There’s plenty of cover for them in the dunes and marshes and pines, and between feral cats, mice, birds and other prey, plenty of food too.

So that’s the fox story.

Mark Carter, of Dogfish Beer and Benevolence fame, added a short wildlife note this week to an email exchange: “My son and I were biking at Herring Point on Wednesday. Gannets galore, a few ospreys, four dolphins, one seal and a whale. Absolutely amazing morning out there.”

What he didn’t see were any stripers that the gannets might have been signaling, but they’re hard to see from a bicycle. Nor did the fishermen who we walked past Sunday morning. With their truck backed toward the ocean, they were finishing a breakfast of scrapple and egg sandwiches they had just cooked up. Meanwhile their lines bent up and down under a slight surf. But no action.

Back in the pine woods of Cape Henlopen State Park, behind the dunes, deer stirred. I know that because those woods are full of deer, and they stir in the morning just like we do. One evening two weeks back we took a ride into the park. On the parade grounds, we counted - one by one - 55 deer, total, in two herds.

Osprey, deer, foxes and peepers - it’s hard to keep up with them all!

Subscribe to the CapeGazette.com Daily Newsletter