by Roland D. Hallee

This week, we’re going to move away from the animal world and take a look at some fauna.

Joan Chaffee, of Clinton, recently sent some photos of pussy willows she snapped while snowshoeing. She wrote, “I was snowshoeing this past Saturday, March 9, in our back field and came across these pussy willows. A sure sign of Spring!”

At the tail end of winter, fuzzy nubs start to appear along the branches of pussy willows. So, what exactly, are these little nubs?

They are actually flowers just before they fully bloom, and not seeds or fruits like they are perceived. The soft coating of hairs acts as insulation to protect these early bloomers from cold temperatures. The species most commonly called pussy willows in the northeast, Salix discolor, is a small, shrubby species of willow that can be found dotting wetlands and most woods throughout much of North America.

Their blooms, also known for their delightfulness, usually signal the last throes of winter.

The petal-less male flowers are covered with pollen-bearing stamens. Catkins, as they are called, usually don’t rely on pollinators to spread their pollen. Instead, they simply release it into the wind, where it may or may not land on the female flower parts. In order to hit their targets, the catkins must produce a tremendous amount of pollen.

Pussy willows are dioecious, meaning there are both male plants and female plants. Only the male plants will produce the fuzzy flowers. Some home gardeners become disappointed once they learn they have a female tree. The flowers are equally pleasing, but look more like greenish hairy caterpillars.

Most cut pussy willow stems are in a sort of time warp – dried at their peak fuzziness, and never allowed to fully flower. But if you keep fresh-cut pussy willows hydrated, you can see the whole flowering cycle and even the leafing-out process. It is important to get healthy-looking bunches (look for flexible, greenish stems that don’t feel brittle or look shriveled), and place in a vase near a window, changing the water daily. You can add a little flower food if you have some. Watch for new flower buds to cast off the shiny brown bud scales that surround the flower. When the flowers mature, you will see many yellow stamens emerge to cover each catkin. Wait even longer, and you may also see pale green, strappy leaves unfurl from the leaf buds. At this point, your willow stems will be in full spring growth and will need to be planted in soil outdoors to root. They may or may not take.

In films, pussy willows are featured in a key part of the film Serial Mom, as one character, Beverly Sutphin, begins leaving clues to her identity for her neighbor Dottie Hinkle.

In literature, Pussy Willow, a children’s book by Maraget Wise Brown (1951), tells the story of a gray “pussycat not much bigger than a pussy willow,” who names himself Pussy Willow after the catkins he finds around him in spring. When the catkins disappear with the passing of the season, he goes in search of them, asking each different kind of animal he encounters where he might find them. The animals all answer from their own perspective. “Up in the air,” says the butterfly; “under a leaf,” says the squirrel. Pussy Willow finally finds them a year later when spring comes around again.

Pussy willows get their name for their resemblance to tiny cats’ paws, and they feel so much like fur that young children often wonder if they are animals instead of plants.

So, with the sighting of pussy willows on March 9, it is a sure sign that spring is imminent. Let’s hope so.

ERMINE UPDATE

A friend of The Town Line recently told me of an incident she encountered in her own home. One day she opened the cupboard doors under her sink in the kitchen, and noticed these beady little eyes staring back at her. Startled at first, she stood motionless while the little critter stared back at her, neither moving for a moment. Finally, the little white ermine scurried off, probably from where it came.

As reported in this column in the February 14, 2019, issue, ermines, a/k/a weasels, have been finding their way into homes this winter. The first reports came from southern Maine. This recent sighting happened in China.

It seems to be a universal happening.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

Which pitcher, originally drafted by the Boston Red Sox and traded to Baltimore before ever playing a game with Boston, returned for both of the Sox’ titles in 2004 and 2007?

Answer can be found here.

by Roland D. Hallee

A 40-year study conducted by the Audubon Society has found that more than half of 305 bird species in North America are spending the winter about 35 miles farther north than they did 40 years ago. Some of these birds include chickadees, robins and owls.

Bird ranges can expand for many reasons, among them urban sprawl, deforestation and the backyard feeders.

The study suggests that the reason so many birds over such a broad area are wintering in more northern locations is climate change.

The study of migration habits from 1966 through 2005 found that about a quarter of the species have moved farther south. But the number moving northward (177 species) is double that amount.

Of all the birds, the purple finch was the biggest mover. Its wintering grounds are now more along the latitude of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, instead of Springfield, Missouri.

Over the four decades covered by the study, the average January temperature in the United States rose by about five degrees. That warming was most pronounced in northern states, which have already recorded an influx of more southern species and could see some northern species move into Canada.

The study also provides support for what many bird watchers across the country have long thought – that many birds are responding to climate change by moving farther north.

Previous studies of breeding birds in Great Britain and the eastern U.S. have noticed similar trends. But the Audubon study covers a broader area and includes many more species.

Examples of these are the purple finch and the boreal chickadee. They are spending their summers in the forests of Canada and fly south into the U.S. for the winter. Climate change could be playing a role in why they are not flying as far south as they used to. This is reflected in the fact that these species of birds are no longer as common as they once were in states like Maine and Vermont.

The Audubon Society likes to conduct their bird counts in mid-December. At that time of year, temperature is the primary driver for where birds go and whether they live or die.To survive the cold, birds need to eat enough during the day to have the energy needed to shiver through the cold nights.

With the milder winters that the northeast has been experiencing in that four-decade span, it is possible that birds don’t need to expend as much energy shivering, and can get by eating less food in the day.

However, researchers cannot explain why some certain species are moving. It’s speculated that changes in temperature affect different birds in different ways.

Researchers don’t know for a fact that it is warming. But when they keep finding the same thing over and over, they reason that it is not just a figment of the imagination.

Over the past 40 years, the Christmas Bird Count has documented shifts to the north or inland for the majority and for nearly every kind of North American bird species. Audubon’s analysis confirms the evidence from bird enthusiasts who have frequently reported changing populations.

Given the strong evidence that global warming is indeed a key factor in documented bird movements, shifts like these will continue for familiar species — for better or worse — as long as the climate continues to change. Though these movements clearly point to significant ecological disruption underway, their short and long term impacts will vary for specific species and even groups.

Among all landbirds in the study, 64 percent showed significant northward movement, including more than 70 percent of all woodland birds and 70 percent of those that frequent feeders.

Among the birds that depend on feeders, such as Boreal Chickadee and Pygmy Nuthatch, have moved hundreds of miles since 1966. Already adapted to human surroundings, they are unusually well-suited to a shifting climate. Most will fare well in the short term, as long as food is provided to them. However, northern-wintering birds are highly vulnerable to the sudden onset of cold and stormy conditions. They are also likely to further disrupt ecosystem balance by forcing out less adaptable species.

Woodland birds that do not visit bird feeders, such as Spruce Grouse and Barred Owl, also showed long-distance northward movements. Their continued survival in northern winters will depend on healthy forest habitat, which is already at risk due to both the drying effects of global warming and over-development by humans.

Grassland birds are among the few groups that did not move north over the past 40 years, but are the most vulnerable. Only 10 of 26 (38 percent) grassland species moved north significantly, while nine moved south. Many probably could not move into northern areas despite increasingly moderate temperatures, because conversion to human uses such as crops, pastures, and hayfields, has greatly reduced availability of grassland habitat. These species are facing an uncertain future.

These little creatures of Mother Nature are wonderful to watch, track and photograph, as they go about their daily routines. In the process, they are trying to tell us something. We need to take note.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

The NBA’s Memphis Grizzlies formerly played in what Canadian city?

Answer can be found here.

by Roland D. Hallee

In recent weeks, there have been numerous reports of incidences where weasels have found their way into homes. There were reports in Harpswell, Cumberland and Bangor.

The woman in Bangor said she noticed what she thought was a rat or an escaped ferret in her ceiling. It had been running around in the ceiling, so she removed one of the ceiling panels. When it poked its head out, she called the landlord and both determined it was someone’s escaped pet ferret. However, it was later determined to be a weasel, or ermine as they are also known.

Weasels are naturally very curious and do wander from time to time into people’s houses, perhaps in search of mice. Their small size allows them to get into nooks and crannies.

There was one instance when the homeowner captured the ermine in a humane trap, and before she even had it for a minute, the ermine escaped.

Ermines are common throughout Maine and hunt both night and day, but people don’t often see this small animal because it’s well camouflaged, moves fast and tends to keep out of sight.

Weasels are usually brown, gray or black with white or yellowish markings. All weasels become all white in the winter. The winter fur of the least weasel glows a bright lavender color when exposed to ultraviolet light.

Ermines are especially difficult to spot in the winter season, when their coat turns from brown to white, an adaptation that allows it to hide in the snow. The only thing that remains pigmented on an ermine is the tip of its tail, which is jet black.

As nocturnal animals, weasels sleep during the day and are active at night. Most of a weasel’s time awake consists of hunting, storing excess food and eating. Their bodies don’t store fat, so they need a constant supply of food to provide enough energy. In fact, the least weasel eats 40 – 60 percent of its body weight every day, according to the Nature Conservancy.

The most common weasel is the short-tailed weasel. It can be found in North America, Europe and Asia, in regions as far north as the Arctic. Their homes include marshes, scrubs, hedgerows, alpine meadows, riparian woodlands and riverbank habitats, according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature and Natural Resources (IUCN).

The genus includes least weasels, polecats, stoats, ferrets and minks. These animals are small, active predators with long and slender bodies and short legs.

According to Dr. Alessio Mortelliti, assistant professor in the University of Maine Department of Wildlife, Fisheries and Conservation Biology, “It’s pretty much anywhere in the world, plus it’s an invasive species in some places.”

Ermines are especially ferocious and bold. It is not uncommon for this predator to attack and kill prey that exceeds them in size and weight. For example, ermines, that weigh between 1.6 to 3.7 ounces, have been known to attack gray squirrels, which are much heavier, typically weighing between 12 and 24 ounces. Ermines are very aggressive, “they can go for prey that is bigger than them,” said Mortelliti. Ermines will attack young rabbits and hares, but they prefer smaller prey such as mice and voles. In fact, one of the ermine’s key adaptations is their ability to manipulate its flexible body into small tunnels that are created by smaller animals.

They are also bullies. Although they can dig their own burrows quite quickly, they sometimes take over another animal’s burrows and make them their own.

In Greek culture, a weasel near one’s house is a sign of bad luck, even evil, especially if there is a girl about to be married, since the animal was thought to be an unhappy bride who was transformed into a weasel, and consequently delights in destroying wedding dresses. However, in neighboring Macedonia, weasels are generally seen as an omen of good fortune.

In North America, Native Americans, in the region of North Carolina, deemed the weasel to be a bad sign: crossing its path meant a “speedy death.” According to Daniel Dafoe, meeting a weasel is a bad omen.

In the English language, being called a weasel is considered an insult, being regarded as sneaky, conniving or untrustworthy.

How do these animals find their way into homes? Usually through some openings in the foundation, broken windows or sometimes through openings in the roof like attic vents or chimneys.

How do you rid yourself of one? Use fresh meat, if possible. Position your bait strategically, so that the weasel must bring its entire body into the trap and step on the trigger plate to get to it. Make sure the bait is far enough from the trap walls that an animal cannot reach inside and steal it without entering. Weasels are known to bite, so wear heavy gloves whenever handling the trapped animal and refrain from sticking your fingers inside the trap.

Again, weasels are cute, but do not approach one unless it is safely in a Havahart trap, be careful handling it, and take it deep into the woods, where it belongs.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

Who is the only NFL player to be named MVP of the Super Bowl from the losing team.

Answer can be found here.

by Roland D. Hallee

I woke up one morning last week in a sweat. I just realized it was the time of year when I go out to Center Vassalboro to visit my weather-prognosticating friend, Woodrow Charles, the woodchuck.

Legend has it that if he sees his shadow we are in for six more weeks of hard winter. If he doesn’t see it, we can prepare for an early spring – which, honestly, hasn’t happened very often.

The winter has been mild with not very much snow, but that storm last weekend will make the trucking out to his lair more of a chore than it would have been a week ago.

So, I bundle up with a warm jacket, scarf, gloves, and high boots, ready to brave the weather.

Memories rush through my mind as I begin my journey. I really never know what to expect when I head out there. Some years he is receptive and cordial, but there are others where he is ornery, sarcastic and down right rude. I guess it depends on the type of winter we have had. I can’t imagine living in a tree stump during the cold months of winter.

OK, his den is now in sight. Oh oh! No smoke from the chimney and no lights on inside. I hope he is all right. Unless, of course, he headed south like he did one year to become a groundhog cam at the Daytona 500.

I approach gingerly, looking around. No tracks in the snow. I knock. Pause.

I knock again.

“OK, keep your shirt on,” came a response from inside.

“He’s home,” I think.

The door opens. It’s dark inside and I see only a pair of eyes staring at me.

“Oh, it’s you,” says Woody. “Come on in.”

I look around. Nothing much has changed from last year, except the wood burning stove is missing, no light fixtures anywhere, and just a lonely, dingy appearance to the place.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Oh, you haven’t been around. I’ve gone off the grid. Simplified my life.”

“Why would you do that,” I asked. “You used to be so comfortable, and where’s your 60-inch TV?”

“It was getting expensive. Haven’t had an increase in my Social Security in a while,” was his response. “I’m relying more on my natural instincts to staying warm.”

“What about the upcoming Super Bowl,” I inquired. “You always have the boys over.”

“Oh, you remember the boys, Frank, Butch and Slim. Well, I gave my TV to Slim, and I’ll be going over there this year. It’s actually warmer there, for a change.”

“It’s going to be an exciting one. The Patriots are in it again, and the Rams will be looking for some redemption for their loss to the Pats in 2002,” I preached.

“Naw, never happen. Pats by 10,” was his prediction.

“Speaking of predictions,” I segued, “Anything about the rest of the winter?”

“To be honest with you,” Woody said apologetically, “I don’t have electricity anymore to run my equipment. I’ll have to go with the old-fashioned method. Step outside to find out whether I see my shadow or not. I’ll be right back, stay here!” he ordered.

I watched him go out the door. A couple of minutes passed. Tick tock, tick tock.

Finally, he re-entered his den.

“All I can tell you is that the coldest period will take place from early February to mid-February,” Woody stated. “The snowiest period will be mid-March and early April. April and May will be rainier than normal with below normal temperatures.”

“So, what are you trying to tell me,” I asked. “You could tell that from simply stepping outside? What’s your prediction?”

“Well, my boy, get ready for six more weeks of winter. I can’t let you off that easy. It’s been pretty easy so far. I can’t let you go through an easy winter, you’ll get soft.”

“How long are you planning to keep playing this charade?” I inquired.

“I’m not pretending, I am a bonafide weather-prognosticator. Not like that impostor in Pennsylvania,” he shot back.

“No, not the weather. I mean pretending to want to be off the grid. It’s just not you.”

“Come back next year, and you’ll see, I’m in it for the long haul,” he retorted.

I put my coat and hat back on, headed toward the door, looked back, and simply shook my head. Not another word.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

The New England Patriots and the St. Louis/Los Angeles Rams will meet for the second time in the Super Bowl. Rematches in the NFL Super Bowl have happened six times. Have two teams ever faced each other three times in the Super Bowl era?

Answer can be found here.

by Roland D. Hallee

Let me begin this column by emphatically stating that I am not a film critic by any stretch of the imagination. I usually leave that up to Peter Cates, The Town Line’s esteemed reviewer. But I saw a film recently that truly inspired me, and because it is about geese, I think it fits the theme of this column.

The name of the movie is Fly Away Home, and for those of you who have already seen it, you’re excused from reading the rest of this column.

It was filmed in 1996, and dramatizes the actual experiences of Bill Lishman, who, in 1986, started training geese to follow his ultralight and succeeded in leading their migration in 1993.

The story line of the film begins when Amy Alden, played by Anna Paquin, survives an automobile accident in New Zealand in which her mother is killed. The girl is sent to live with her father, Thomas Alden, played by Jeff Daniels of Dumb & Dumber fame, on an Ontario, Canada, farm.

Her father is involved in a dispute with a local developer who is prepared to bulldoze some of the wilderness surrounding Alden’s farm. The crew begins to clear the land, but, for some unexplained reason, the project is put on hold. Amy goes out to the scene only to find a bunch of goose eggs left behind by their parents. Without anyone knowing, she takes the eggs to the barn where she uses a drop light to provide heat to incubate the eggs. To her surprise, they all hatched.

The local game warden appears at the house and informs everyone that because of a local ordinance, he would have to clip the wings so the birds would be rendered flightless. This upsets everyone, and Tom throws the game warden out of his house, after which the warden threatens that if the birds fly, he would have to confiscate them.

Tom begins to research the species and learns that if the birds aren’t taught to fly properly, as they have no goose parents to teach them, they would not survive during the Canadian winter, and would probably get lost and die. Once he notices the geese follow Amy wherever she goes, he decides to use ultralight aircraft to teach the birds to fly. The geese would not follow him, so he comes up with a plan to teach Amy how to fly, and the geese would probably follow her.

Amy’s uncle Dave, played by Terry Kinney, travels to North Carolina to talk to a friend who owns a bird sanctuary about the plan. The friend thinks the idea is absurd, and also informs Dave that if the birds don’t reach the sanctuary by November 1, it would be torn down by developers who plan to turn it into a housing project.

While the group is off trying to find a goose (Igor) that became lost due to injury while the Aldens were trying to teach the geese how to fly, the game warden confiscates the birds. But, through a clever plan, they reclaim the geese, and set off on their intrepid flight to North Carolina, breaking a lengthy list of laws during the journey. Some misadventures occur along the way, including an emergency landing at a highly-classified U.S. Air Force base on Lake Ontario, and Tom’s ultralight going down in a cornfield, only 30 miles from the destination, due to a faulty rudder. By now, Tom and Amy have become national news with residents cheering them on and offering places to stay during their overnight stops.

Tom convinces Amy that she must go on alone, and she completes the journey safely.

One of the most moving scenes in the film occurs when, while piloting through a cloud of mist, the office towers of Baltimore, actually shot in Toronto, suddenly materialize, and office workers see the little girl and her geese flying past their windows. While watching that, I felt a lump in my throat and goosebumps on my neck.

In the final screen credits, it is revealed that all 16 geese, including Igor, who had been injured, and rode the whole way with Amy in her ultralight, returned to the Aldens’ farm the next spring, safely, and on their own.

It is a heart-warming story as you get captivated by the dedication of the family, and the steadfastness of the geese. I highly recommend it.

Roland’s trivia question of the week:

When was the last time the Kansas City Chiefs appeared in a Super Bowl?

Answer can be found here.