SCORES & OUTDOORS

by Roland D. Hallee

We have talked about the activities of nature’s little critters in the past, but it never ceases to amaze me as to what can happen in an instance.

Last week, while on vacation, I was sitting on the porch taking a break from some chores, and my wife was behind camp working in her flower garden.

Earlier, she had been filling the bird feeders and had taken a piece of suet, about half the size of a golf ball, and placed in on the ground while she refilled the cages.

Well, shortly following that, a chipmunk came out of his den, which he has many entrances to in the area, and began enjoying the morsel of suet. However, a nearby woodpecker decided that it was his, and began pecking at the chipmunk’s head. The chipmunk was undeterred by all of this and continued to eat the suet, despite taking quite a beating from the woodpecker.

Meanwhile, two mourning doves landed nearby, and decided to get in on the action. They began to approach the other two combatants, sneaking in from behind the woodpecker. At that point, I thought to myself, “this will be interesting.” Unfortunately, my wife was not aware this was going on and came around from behind the camp and began to say something to me. At that point, the confrontation broke up. The chipmunk scooted off to his den, and the three birds flew off in their own directions. We’ll never know how that would have turned out.

Later, that evening, I noticed the chunk of suet was no longer on the ground, so one of them won out on that fight.

But that was nothing compared to what we witnessed on Saturday. It was a beautiful day, and we were out on the lake to take in some fishing. There was a bass tournament going on that day, so many boats and anglers were in the area. At one point, we saw a small bass, about 12-inches in length, floating in the water, obviously dead. We left it, citing that the circle of life would come into play, and some bird of prey, an osprey, bald eagle, or even a sea gull would come along and scavenge that up.

One of the things we did notice in the almost three hours we were fishing was that there were no birds present in the crystal blue sky. Usually, they are all around us.

Finally, at one point, we heard the call of a bald eagle, although we could not see it. I summized it was perched in a nearby tree and possibly warning us not to approach the dead fish, which it possibly had its eyes on for lunch.

The fish was floating approximately 15 yards away from our boat when a bald eagle came swooping down from a nearby tree and flew parallel to the water – maybe five feet from the water level – for about 20 feet, extended its talons, picked that fish right from the surface of the water, and proceeded, at the same altitude, down the shoreline and disappeared around a bend into a cove.

I have seen bald eagles scoop up fish from the lake before, but not from that close a distance. It goes without saying the scene was spectacular. Bald eagles are massive birds.

Even when you think you have seen all Mother Nature has to offer, something like this comes along.

SCORES & OUTDOORS

by Roland D. Hallee

While traveling the back roads of Vassalboro the last couple of years, I noticed a drastic decline in the number of white-tailed deer sightings. There was actually one year – maybe the year before last – when I saw none at all.

Well, my hopes have been renewed about the state of the deer herd in this area. The last three days, I have seen deer every day. I truly welcomed sight.

So, what is the condition of the state’s deer herd?

According to figures from the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, the mild winter we just experienced was very kind to the deer. The deer population in Maine is estimated at approximately 210,000, mostly in central and southern Maine. Although there are fewer deer in northern Maine, there tends to be some of the largest bucks in the state in that area.

Male white-tailed deer can weigh between 100 and 300 pounds.

The healthy state of numbers in Maine has prompted the wildlife regulators to increase the number of “any deer” permits they will issue this year to 45,000, up by 60 percent. Approval of the final number should be made next month.

Most of those extra permits will be issued in southern Maine where the white-tailed deer did particularly well to survive the winter. Maine is actually at the northern edge of their range.

I did some research and was a little disappointed when I learned that, according to some “experts,” Maine didn’t even make the top 10 list of the best places in the United States to hunt deer. That is probably due to the fact that deer are at the edge of their range here, and the number of permits issued, along with the large size, area wise, of the state.

White-tailed buck, left, with a doe.

Wildlife regulators in Augusta say its necessary to keep the herd in check to prevent the herds from growing to the point where it becomes a problem. Unchecked growth can lead to deer-car collisions and food competition, which could result in starvation.

Back in the late 1990s, Waterville had a serious deer problem at the municipal airport, and were causing some anxious and dangerous moments when they wandered out on the runway. The herd had grown to large numbers. Since it is illegal to discharge a firearm within the city limits, archers were allowed to enter the area to help harvest the deer and manage the herd. Also, the habitat was altered in an attempt to force the deer to seek food and shelter elsewhere.

Coyotes and black bears are the main predators of fawns. It has helped protect the young deer with the fact that there is open season on coyotes, which means you can hunt them year round, but black bear hunting is restricted. However, today, dogs and humans are their primary predator. Because they don’t have many natural predators, deer populations sometimes grow too large for their environment and can cause death by starvation.

White-tailed dear, Odocoileus virginianus, have a way of protecting themselves during the winter months, like most other wildlife.

In winter, when the snow depths exceed 16 inches, deer will yard in stands of conifers, forming a central resting area with trails packed through the snow. This dense cover with adequate browse is essential for winter survival. They are herbivores and follow well-used trails to their feeding areas.

During the fall, with the coming of hunting season, is the time of year when deer breed. Females have a gestation period of seven months, and will produce one to three fawns, generally born in May and June.

The average hunting success rate in Maine is usually between 14 and 17 percent, with 84 percent of that coming during the firearms season. The firearms season generally attracts approximately 175,000 hunters.

White-tailed deer, sometimes referred to as “swamp ghosts,” are excellent runners, leapers and swimmers.

But, with all that, it is good to see more deer in our area this year than I have noticed over the last two to three years. With a healthy deer herd, the influx of hunters brings about economic benefits.

SCORES & OUTDOORS

by Roland D. Hallee

Back around 1954, when I was seven years old, I became aware of a game called baseball. I loved it. I grew up in an era where I watched some of the greatest baseball players in history: Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Hank Aaron, Ted Williams, Sandy Koufax, Willie Mays, etc. The list goes on.

I watched on television when Roger Maris hit his 61st home run of the season in 1961, at Yankee Stadium against Red Sox pitcher Tracy Stallard, breaking Babe Ruth’s legendary record; I was at Fenway Park when Detroit’s Jim Bunning pitched a no-hitter against the Red Sox; I was also at Fenway Park when Ted Williams hit his 521st, and last home run in his final at-bat before retirement in 1962. I’ve seen many games, watched many players who are now enshrined in the Baseball Hall of Fame.

But, my two main idols in those formative years were Red Sox third baseman Frank Malzone, whom I think I gravitated to because that was the position I played in Little League, high school, and during my softball playing days. But my favorite in the 1950s and early 1960s, was Red Sox centerfielder Jim Piersall.

Jim Piersall

What brings this up is that Piersall passed away on June 3, at the age of 87. But the story doesn’t end there.

Back in the early 1990s, a friend of mine was in the business of promoting sports memorabilia shows in Augusta. My job was to drive to Portland and rendezvous with professional athletes with whom he had contracted to come to the shows for autograph sessions. Among the many I drove from Portland to Augusta and back were former Red Sox stars Jody Reed, George Scott, Jim Rice, Jim Lonborg, Bill “The Spaceman” Lee, etc.; New England Patriots linebacker Steve Nelson; Celtics star Robert Parrish and Bruins players Cam Neely, Bobby Carpenter, Ken Hodge, just to name a few.

Well, one day, my buddy says to me, “I’m putting on a show next week, and I need you to go to Portland and pick up George Foster and Jim Piersall.”

I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. A week later, I was driving a car to Augusta with Jim Piersall sitting in the back seat. I was hoping he would sit next to me up front, but Foster claimed that spot. My conversation with Foster is a story for another day. But Piersall did not disappoint me in his storytelling.

Unfortunately, Piersall suffered from bipolar disorder during his playing days, in a time when the disease was not fully understood (early in his career he was diagnosed with “nervous exhaustion” and spent seven weeks in a mental facility in Massachusetts), and everyone said he was crazy. The film Fear Strikes Out, starring Anthony Perkins as Piersall, was the story of Piersall’s 17-year major league career and the mental challenges he faced.

But that day, in the car, on our round trip from the airport to the Augusta Civic Center, he displayed no signs of the disorder. Most of his topics were up and coming players at the time and some banter with Foster, who was a feared slugger who played in the National League for the Cincinnati Reds’ “Big Red Machine” in the 1970s. He once held the National League record for most home runs in a season with 52.

Piersall’s stories are legendary. He once stepped up to bat wearing a Beatles wig and playing “air guitar” with his bat; led cheers for himself in the outfield during breaks, and “talked” to Babe Ruth behind the centerfield monuments at Yankee Stadium. In 1963, while playing with the New York Mets, he hit the 100th home run of his career and ran around the bases backwards.

He was ejected from the game a countless number of times for the shenanigans he performed on the field.

In his autobiography, Piersall commented, “Probably the best thing that ever happened to me was going nuts. Whoever heard of Jim Piersall, until that happened?”

The list of his antics are endless, but one memorable one was when he was ejected from a game, while playing for the Cleveland Indians, for running back and forth in the outfield, waiving his arms frantically, trying to distract Ted Williams during an at bat.

He heckled umpires, threw baseballs at scoreboards, and charged the mound when hit by a pitch.

He was a colorful character that is missing from the game today. When Jim Piersall stepped on a baseball field, you never knew what was going to happen.

But with all these incidents, playing for five different teams, Piersall was inducted into the Red Sox Hall of Fame on September 17, 2010.

To this day, I really can’t explain why I idolized that baseball player.

SCORES & OUTDOORS

by Roland D. Hallee

About 12 years ago, our grandson gave us a birdhouse that he had built. That same year, while attending a benefit auction, I acquired another birdhouse. We took both of those houses and mounted them on trees behind camp. There they sat for a dozen years. No activity that we ever noticed, until last weekend, when while having breakfast, I noticed a black-capped chickadee enter one of them. I continued to watch as it exited, and came back a few minutes later with what looked like building material for a nest.

Finally, someone was moving in. The little bird continued to work the rest of the day, and continued the next. That’s when I asked myself, “what do we really know about chickadees?”

They are the state bird, and they can be found just about everywhere. But, what else?

Insects form a large part of their diet in summer. Seeds and berries become their fare in winter. We feed the birds both at home and at camp, and one of the things that has always captured my attention in that chickadees, unlike the gold finches or nuthatches, who park themselves on the feeders, the chickadee goes to the feeder, takes one seed, and flies to a nearby tree to break it open. They will also store food in various places. They can remember where the food is stashed for up to 28 days.

On cold winter nights, they have the ability to reduce their body temperature by as much as 10-12 degrees C. That kind of torpor is not common in birds.

black-capped chickadee

Chickadees are permanent residents. They do not migrate in winter, other than possibly moving south within their range. During winter, they often flock together, and will forage as a group. While flocking, they create a social hierarchy, Males rank over females and older birds over juveniles.

They usually sleep in vegetation or in cavities. I guess this particular chickadee liked the looks of that hole in what it may think is part of the tree.

Black-capped chickadees are monogamous, and males contribute greatly to reproduction. During the incubation period, the male will feed its partner. When the nestlings hatch, males are the primary provider. However, as the young get older the female takes over those responsibilities. They breed between April and June. Females prefer dominant males.

The black-capped chickadee is the state bird of both Maine and Massachusetts, and the Canadian province of New Brunswick, which borders Maine.

The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) classifies the black-capped chickadee as least concern due to its widespread distribution, and large population.

But, what disturbed me was the sighting of a blue jay in the area of the bird house on Monday. We haven’t seen the chickadee since.

Blue jays are known to attack or kill smaller birds. They are extremely territorial birds and will even show aggression towards humans if they come too close to their nest. Additionally, blue jays may raid other birds’ nests, stealing eggs, chicks or simply taking over the nest. We hope that was not the fate of that little chickadee that we have enjoyed watching for those couple of days.

Of course, with the rain we had on Monday, let’s just hope the chickadee had enough sense to stay out of the rain.

SCORES & OUTDOORS

by Roland D. Hallee

It’s simply amazing what you come across in the woods of Maine. Last weekend, while preparing to open camp for the season, my wife and I were helping some friends next door do some raking and leaf pickup, when the wife showed me something that she had raked up. It looked kind of odd. OK, something else I had never seen in the 29 years my wife and I have been there.

It was round, like an orb, a little smaller than a tennis ball. Brown in color, with black bristles all over the exterior. At one end was a hole with what appeared to be dried mud inside.

That evening, I perused through the myriad of books I own and found nothing that really resembled it. The closest I came was that of a milkweed stock, but still didn’t look the same. So, I turned to my contact at the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, in Augusta. His initial thought was a gall, but he would confer with his botanist colleagues.

Basically, a gall is a kind of swelling growth on the external tissues of plants or animals. They are abnormal outgrowths of plant tissues, similar to benign tumors or warts on animals. They are caused by various parasites, from fungi and bacteria, to insects and mites. They are highly organized structures and because of this the cause of the gall can often be determined without the actual agent being identified. In human pathology, a gall is a raised sore on the skin, usually caused by chafing or rubbing.

In the end, what we had found was not a gall.

Several emails later, my contact replied following some consultations with the botanists, and were wondering if it might be a Chestnut gall. This would only be possible if we had a mature Chestnut tree on the premises. There are none that we are aware.

What we found, left, and what we think it is.

Then, another state botanist, Don Cameron, concluded that there are no trees in Maine with galls that have multiple spines from the same attachment point and therefore he speculated that it was most likely a cactus house plant that was thrown away in the yard some time ago.

He concluded the orb was possibly that of the Aylostera vulpina plant, a cactus that is native to Bolivia and Argentina, but very popular as house potted plants. In the wilds of South America, they grow at altitudes of 3,400 – 3,900 feet. I was not able to find a common name for them.

The plant is easy to grow and recommended for beginners. They prefer a gritty, porous soil mix with a pH slightly on the acidic side. Full sun to light shade. The root system is rot prone so watering should be monitored closely.

It’s recommended to let the pot dry out before adding water. It is winter hardy and will sustain temperatures below freezing. They require a winter rest period.

This species of cactus will occupy a small flower pot comfortably and remain a manageable sized house plant. The flower is bright red with scarlet petal tips and white stigma.

They are subject to mealy-bug attacks and to fungus and rot brought on by over-watering and high humidity.

It appears that in cultivation they grow larger and cluster more vigorously than in the wild.

The site where the pod was found has had a high turnover rate in the past 6 – 10 years so could very conceivably have been a potted house plant. The area had not been raked in quite some time.

I guess, for the time anyway, we have solved another “mystery” at camp.