Heron Rookery

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Just Chilling on Nubanusit Lake

The air was cool and mist rose over the surface of the water as Al and I put the canoe in the water at Riley's dock on Nubanusit Lake.   It was 7 am, on Monday, September 24, and the temperature was probably not much above 40 degrees.  But the sky was clear and the sun was just rising over the "Island" (the stretch of land between Nubanusit and Spoonwood Pond).

 We headed southwest along the shoreline to scout for cranberries.  We found many plants but few fruit.  Al threw the one ripe berry that he found to me.  It tasted good, cold and tart.  We spend a good long time identifying the variety of shrubs along the shoreline, thick and clustered close together.   Mountain Holly had lost its brilliant red berries, but winterberry had taken its place with bright clusters of orange-red fruit .  We observed that the robins enjoyed these berries.  We also found blueberry bushes in abundance, their red and purple leaves making the bushes distinctive even from a distance.  We also found rhodora, which is in the azalea family, rhododendron, spirea, leather leaf, sweet gale, and witch hazel, which is just now in bloom, later than all the other shrubs.  Most of the wildflowers have bloomed and faded, but a few erstwhile asters, small and delicate, showed themselves along the water's edge.

For the first hour of our exploration, the mist rose steadily off the water. The wind blew cold from the west.  Then suddenly, or so it seemed, the mist was gone.   To the north, Osgood Hill.  To the east, Rollstone and Willard Mountains.  We heard a loon's  warning call to the west.  Looking up, we saw a bald eagle flying low over the lake, toward the spot where we heard the loon.  We watched as the eagle dove down to the water, again and again, only to come up empty.  The white tail flashed in the morning light.  A spectacular sight, one I had never before witnessed.

Following the southern shoreline, we were often in the shadow of the hills.  It was chilly! So, when we turned a corner and found ourselves in the sun, we basked in the welcomed warmth.   Al often checked the map as we approached the boundary line between Nelson and Hancock.  At the spot where he believed that we had reached the border, we decided to put to shore and explore a bit.  We followed the stream up the hill until we reached a stone wall which ran North and South.  Al believed this to be the boundary line.  We followed the wall up the hill, coming to a few places where another wall intersected to form a corner.  Along the way, Al found a patch of rattlesnake plantain and I found a nice wet spot where I stepped into mud up to my knees.  What a lovely feeling!

We were amazed at how straight the wall appeared.  The builders must have taken great pains to follow a strict line.  Sometimes the boulders and ledges were in just the right spot and the stone wall incorporated these large features into its structure.  The boulders were both beautiful and magnificent, covered with moss. lichen and ferns. I was able to stand at the base of one boulder and take photos as if I was at ground level.  Leaves and moss covered the surface of the boulder and a yellow birch grew around a large rock, the roots extending horizontally on either side of the rock.

We followed the stone wall until we reached another intersection with a east west wall and the terrain leveled out.  We had hoped to come upon a woods road leading to Tenney Pond, but decided to turn back.  I chose to head to the east and Al went to the west of the wall.  I soon found the woods road that we had been looking for and Tenney Pond was within sight.   I walked almost to the pond's edge before turning back to the north and west to return to the wall.   It took me a little effort to get my bearings and determine which way I should go.  Thankfully I had my compass with me.  It is so easy to get turned around in the woods and it helped to keep in mind where I needed to go and determine, with the help of the compass, which way to go.  Al has a much better sense of direction than I do and, of course, I found him sitting on a boulder where the stone wall ended, waiting for me, having already returned to the canoe and back up to the stone wall.

Soon after we got back out on the water, we found a sign which marked the boundary between Hancock and Nelson, but Al was not convinced that they had it right, they being whoever had put up the sign.  He maintained that the stone wall was the town line.  Who is right?   We could see the sign on the opposite shore and having explored this eastern shoreline sufficiently for this day, and discovering yet another stream flowing into Nubanusit and a wide and shallow cove which looked like perfect habitat for crayfish (though we didn't find any.), we decided to head to the other side of the lake.  Before we left the cove and brook,  I took the opportunity to name them:  Burreed Brook, for the plant we found at the mouth of it, and Kingfisher Cove, for the bird that seemed have claimed this spot as its territory.  Who can resist a couple of nice alliterative names?   Not this English major!

We found the town line marker on the other shoreline, and, as much I would have liked to stop and bask on Elephant Rock, we didn't stop again as we followed the northern shore. The wind, though warmer now from the sun, had picked up and the paddling was a little harder.  Still, we were favored with the repeated sightings of a kingfisher and a flicker.  The flicker flew out in front of us, as if to say, " you can't catch me."  But we did get some pretty fantastic looks at it.   The white rump and the yellow undersides of its wings flashed out in front of us again and again and once, it flew close enough to us that we could see the bold red stripe on its head.  A beautiful, but rarely seen, bird.  Al surmised that it was just passing through on its way south.

We canoed into the wind the rest of the way back to the dock and arrived just in time to help Lisa Sieverts, Max Nunnemaker, and Jonathan and Laurie Smith to move a small shack, which they affectionately call the mouse condo, for the 50 mice that they found in it one time, and the sailboat.  Many hands do very well make light work.

Another lovely, but chilly, day on a lovely lake.   Wonders and beauty, great and small.






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