Tom Seymour Author, Forager, Outdoorsman, Musician & Dowser
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The Worst Road in Maine

3/19/2020

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Today, March 21, the first day of spring, dawned clear and cold. Frozen maple sap in my containers dashes my hopes for some fresh, maple syrup. But the worst is the road. Oh, that awful road that I live on.
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East Waldo Road, the worst road in Maine according to Tom Seymour.
In past years, this rural road had little traffic. Perhaps a half-dozen or so vehicles would pass by during the course of a day, sometimes nowhere near that many. That’s because development had not yet reared its ugly head. Now, with houses springing up like mushrooms on a September morning, the amount of road use has greatly increased. But the number of hours spent on road maintenance has remained
the same.
This has changed the yearly ritual of driving down a muddy, rutted road, to driving down a road filled with potholes. In this case, the area of potholes is far greater than the area of level road. I prefer ruts...at least you could get a running start and kind of “swish” through them. Once in a while you would slue from side-to-side, but that was kind of fun.
​Now, with the road little more than a greatly-magnified corncob, it is impossible to drive fast enough for the speedometer to register. At the slow crawl required for the vehicle to remain intact, it looks like you are going zero miles per hour.
 Part of the problem is that many parts of the road were once corduroyed. That is, logs were placed side-by-side. These would sort of fl oat on the soft ground through which the road led. Then, at one point, the logs were covered with gravel, to kind of smooth things out. That was more than fifty years ago, but still, the outline of the corduroy becomes apparent on occasion, such as in early spring. Sometimes a loose log or a portion of a log will work its way to the surface, causing terrible discomfort
to all concerned. The old-time plague of mud and ruts quickly dissipated when things dried out. But the new enemy of hundreds of thousands of sharp-edged potholes just worsens, defeated only when the road grader finally arrives.

So now, it takes a major need to inspire me to leave the house. If I can possibly do without something, I will do without it. I’m situated so that either way I turn upon leaving my driveway, I am compelled to negotiate a virtual minefield of deep potholes. I am marooned on my own property, an unwilling hostage of an overused, poorly-maintained road.
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​​Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.

The text of this blog post was taken from Tom Seymour's 2008 book Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist, currently available from Just Write Books.
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Buy the Book
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Spring Has Sprung – Kind Of

3/12/2020

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    ​While spring hasn’t officially arrived, it has sent its emissaries to cheer us.
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While it closely resembles dandelion flowers, coltsfoot is in fact a sign of incoming spring.
​    Here are some indicators that true spring draws near. First, coltsfoot, a dandelion look-alike, is in flower. Coltsfoot ranks as the very first wildflower of spring. This low-growing plant has brilliant-yellow blossoms and a stand of blooming coltsfoot has power to cheer the most obdurate, winter-weary heart.
​    Next, chives have broken the surface and even if snow and cold weather return, the chives will not only survive, but they will thrive. Once the green spears protrude from the ground, there’s no turning back. 
    Chickadees have changed their call to a raspy, “fee-bee,” something they do every spring just ahead of mating season. 
    A flock of Canada geese flew over last week, another indicator of coming warmer weather. 
    Lastly, large flocks of robins are in evidence all over, including in my yard and on my crabapple tree. There, these members of the thrush family pick the tiny, red crabapples that have made it through the winter. And instead of being “resident” robins, the kind that spend winters on the coast, these are present in sufficient numbers to tell me that they are true migrants, the red-red robins of spring. 
    So there we have it. We’ll certainly see more cold weather and even some snow, but it means nothing. Spring stands at our doorstep and there’s no turning back. 
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Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.
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The Changing Landscape

2/20/2020

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    ​Much of my life was spent in denying the truth that change is inevitable. But as much as I have fought it, change has become even more pronounced. 
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Time and change come for us all, even the seemingly unchanging wilderness of Maine.
    Some things we cannot change and I accept that. Aging and its accompanying vicissitudes stand as an undeniable part of life. Natural changes, the steady growth of pioneer vegetation in untended fields and cut-over woodlands, occur over time and while not noticeable in the short term, become remarkable over the long term. 
     These and similar examples of change rank as nothing but the natural cycle of things and can not be considered either good or bad. 
Other kinds of change, though, have a more sinister character. 
Deforestation in the form of “liquidation cuts” makes me cringe. This is often done because someone plans on putting their property up for sale, trying to reap all the financial benefit possible in the process. 
    Woodcutting for the sake of sustainable harvest is a good thing. But as a friend once said: “In northern Maine they cut trees and grow trees. In southern Maine they cut trees and grow houses.” 
    That practice is creeping northward. So when you notice that someone has cut every tree down to those the diameter of a coffee can, you can rest assured that the place is going on the market soon. In the case of a large woodlot, liquidation cutting serves as a prelude to subdividing the land. 
    Nowadays, houses spring up like mushrooms after a September rain. Places where once people like me hunted, fished, foraged and communed with nature become someone’s backyard in less time than it takes to tell about it. 
    In the end, the character of a community becomes completely changed. New people move in, people who never knew old Mr. Peavey who lived in the ramshackle house atop Peavy Hill, people who have no idea that the place where they built their houses was once a milk stop on a long-forgotten railroad. People who never knew and don’t care to learn about place names and how those names were acquired. 
   Rural Maine is fast transforming to Anytown America. Fast-food joints on development strips offer the same products throughout the nation, with nothing unique about any of them. Real Maine general stores, the kind that have stood in place for a century or more, are relics of what once dominated the landscape. Once one of these places goes under, it seldom comes back. 
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Though they become increasingly rare, general stores like Sheepscot General still thrive throughout the state of Maine.
Check out Sheepscot General here
​​    My point is not to criticize any person, persons, group of persons or anything of the sort. Instead, I bemoan the loss of a simpler culture, one that fostered me and was always kind to me. 
Here are some examples of how things went in simpler times. 
When someone caught a 12-inch or bigger brook trout, it became the talk of the neighborhood. Ditto for a buck deer. In fact, a common practice for country people on a Sunday afternoon was to drive around and stop in where a deer was hanging. The visit was to congratulate the successful hunter. That was just kind of nice. Today, few display their deer because of growing anti-hunting sentiment. 
The first person to pick a mess of fiddleheads was always a celebrity, although that fame was short-lived. 
    When someone drove too far to the right during mud season and became stuck in the mire, there was never a need to call for a tow truck because sooner or later someone would come by and would hook a chain to your vehicle’s frame and pull you out. And never would one of these good Samaritans accept a dime for their service. 
    I once got stuck on a back road. In less than ten minutes, a man came by with a team of horses and, “twitched” me out. He wouldn’t accept any money and instead, was only too glad to help. 
Back then, April vacation meant seeing two or more bicycles pulled up at every stream crossing. Youngsters loved to fish and this was their week-long opportunity to get out in spring and fish for native brook trout. Today, computers and video games have largely supplanted such endeavors. And instead of seeing school children on their Schwinns, we see adults, mostly clad in brilliantly colored, skin-tight raiment. Kids don’t ride bikes much anymore. 
The white perch run was always a huge, community event, even more popular than public suppers. White perch, a tasty fish that finds itself equally at home in fresh or salt water, spawn in spring and typically run up from a lake or pond into some shallow river to spawn. 
    Best fishing occurred in late afternoon and early evening, which worked out well for working folks. When the run was at its hottest, every bridge and stream crossing saw hoards of anglers, good-naturedly jostling for a place to stand and cast for hungry perch. 
    It was a carnival-type atmosphere but despite that, I never saw anyone become irritated or mad. It was all just good, clean fun.
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Though the digging has stopped, in many places, the dandelions remain.
    In May, fields were filled with people digging dandelions. Driving by presented a scene similar to seeing a field full of bent-over ladies, those tacky lawn ornaments hucked by amateur woodworkers. Today what fields that aren’t full of houses are posted. No more dandelion digging. 
    ​I could go on. But there’s really no need to. 
    None of what I have listed really matters much in the long run. Wishing for things to return to the ways of the past is time misspent. Like the Plains Indians partaking of the Ghost Dance, where they thought if they danced hard and long enough, the buffalo would return and the white man would move away, there is not a single thing we can do to co-opt change. 
    “Progress,” that’s what they call it. 
    But as Hank Williams famously said, “Memory is one gift of God that time cannot erase.” 
    And so I live in the present and have hope for the future, while relishing the past. That, it seems, is a healthy attitude. 
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Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.
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Five Things I Like About Winter

2/20/2020

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    As a wild plant enthusiast, winter stands as a downtime with few redeeming qualities. But there are five things I like about winter. These are:
  1.  Winter doesn’t last forever. 
  2.  There are only four weeks left of winter.
  3.  Winter will soon be over.
  4. Late winter equals early spring.
  5. Winter has lost the battle and spring may come early, at least according to Pauxatawny      Phil, the weather-predicting groundhog. 
​    Okay, these sound redundant. But when cooped up inside with no place to go and nothing to do except feed the woodstove, redundancy becomes the norm. 
    By now, you see that I really don’t care much for winter, despite the deceptive title for this blog entry. I just did that to gain your attention. But now, since we are nearing mid-February, the light at the end of the cold, dark tunnel has begun to shine. Soon, we’ll see tangible signs of spring. 
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Oft mistaken for dandelions, coltsfoot will frequently bloom long before dandelions even consider showing themselves, signaling the beginning of spring.
​For instance, some years see coltsfoot blooming by late February. This is on a south-facing hillside near a tidal river. Interestingly, some people are fooled by coltsfoot’s bright, yellow blossoms and conclude that that broad swath of yellow is from dandelions. But dandelions won’t even think about blooming until at least late April. 
So coltsfoot really stands as the plant world’s truest harbinger of spring. ​
    ​We are seeing robins. It makes little difference that these are coastal robins, the ones that remain in Maine all winter. To spring-thirsty people like me, robins are robins and when they come hippity-hopping, they boost the spirit. And sometimes that’s what counts most. 
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Though coastal robins remain in Maine all winter long, their presence reminds one that spring is on its way.
    In another sign of spring, a friend told me that yesterday, he saw a flock of Canada geese flying north. It’s easy to assume that these are returning from the south but that’s just not so. It can’t be, because our lakes and ponds are all frozen solid. These geese must be going from one protected Penobscot Bay harbor to another. The real deal will happen soon, though, and it’s only a matter of weeks before we will see those long, ragged ‘Vs’ of migrating geese and hear their echo-chamber chorus of honking. 
    And despite snow, freezing rain and cold temperatures, the sun rises higher in the sky with each passing day. Soon, the deep slant of the winter sun will give way to our star casting a more direct light, not so offensive to drivers and more conducive to starting new plants on windowsills. 
    For me at least, winter takes a beating when people begin calling and asking me to do wild-plant presentations come spring. Just discussing spring, wild plants and an end to winter sets my spirit soaring. 
    Finally, and there’s no denying it, we are on the downslope, winter has passed its prime and spring, with every wonderful thing that accompanies it, will soon arrive. Now that’s what I really like about winter. 
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Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.
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Wintertime Photo Adventure

2/13/2020

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    ​Every once in a while in winter I’ll go on a photo, “adventure” with friend and wildlife
photographer David Small.
    Dave introduced me to this cold-weather activity and now I’m hooked.
It amazes me just how much wildlife a person can see by just looking out over a
protected harbor. Seabirds, many of which are only present in winter, swim past in wild
profusion.
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Even in the chill of winter, seals will occasionally pop up for an impromptu photoshoot. Photo by Dave Small
​    And mammals, too, prove to be very much in evidence. During our last adventure, Dave and I watched a harbor seal doing a seal-version of cartwheels in Rockport Harbor. Even when the animal was underwater, we could see its position and even plot its course by watching the bubbles from the air that it exhaled. 
Lively Time
​    
Too many people have the mistaken idea that our bays and seashores are bereft of life in winter. Instead, though, winter sees a great deal of wildlife activity. You just have to get out there and watch in order to see it. 
​Here’s something about one of the more common winter birds seen in saltwater environs. Common loons, known for the “checkerboard” pattern on their backs, become pretty much nondescript in winter.
But the physical shape of the bird doesn’t change and if you’ve seen a loon in summer you can easily identify one in winter. 
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Although loons' signature checkerboard patterns will vanish in winter, loons can easily be identified in winter for their shape. Photo by Dave Small
Cabin Fever Reliever
    For me, getting out on a photoshoot in winter means getting out of the house. A freelance writer, I am cooped up all winter, sitting at my writing desk in a wood-heated office. So going to various harbors up and down the Midcoast region gets me out and breaks the “cabin fever” stranglehold. It’s also a time to dine out. Hot beverages never taste as good as when consumed after coming in from the cold. 
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Regardless of the weather or time of year, adventure hides around every corner in Maine. Photo by Ben Blatz
​Basically, I think we all need to get out in nature, no matter the time of year. And bringing a camera to photograph marine wildlife stands within the reach of almost everyone. 
So bundle up, get that camera ready and head for the coast. Adventure awaits. 
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Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.
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Dave Small, photographer, has taken pictures for Bangor Daily News, U.S. Fish and Wildlife brochures, and signs in wildlife management areas, to name a few. His photos are for "conservation and education and are free for those uses". Visit his website, photosbychance.zenfolio.com, for more.
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The Truth about Groundhog Day

2/6/2020

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Despite popular opinion, groundhogs might not be the best long-distance weather forecasters. Photo by Dave Small
    ​I can never remember which is which regarding a woodchuck seeing or not seeing its shadow on February 2, Groundhog Day. It seems to me that if it sees a shadow, we will have six more weeks of winter. And if it doesn’t, that means an early spring. Well, golly, either way is fine by me. After all, six weeks from Groundhog Day takes us to mid-March. 
    I have seen subzero temperatures and serious blizzards in the middle of March. So the woodchuck’s less appealing weather forecast still sounds good for folks here in Maine. And if the garden-destroying marmot (the scientific name for a woodchuck is Marmot monax) predicts an even earlier spring, so much the better.
    Most everyone views the idea of a woodchuck coming out of its den on February 2 as rank superstition. And of course, it’s true that animals have no way of reckoning any specific date. However, a woodchuck’s hibernation period usually ends sometime in late February. And if a warm spell hits Maine around Groundhog Day, the animal may well stir, go outside its den and walk around for a bit and then return to its den for some more hibernation. So woodchucks do, in fact, walk around outside in February, snow or no snow. In fact, I have been temporarily puzzled ​by woodchuck tracks on the snow. The answer came when I tracked the critter to a known woodchuck den. Anyway, as per forecasting the arrival of spring, the woodchuck is indeed a poor prognosticator. So there you have it. Woodchucks may in fact leave their den on or around Groundhog Day. Just don’t believe what they have to say about the weather. 

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​Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.
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Dave Small, photographer, has taken pictures for Bangor Daily News, U.S. Fish and Wildlife brochures, and signs in wildlife management areas, to name a few. His photos are for "conservation and education and are free for those uses". Visit his website, photosbychance.zenfolio.com, for more.
The text of this blog post was taken from Tom Seymour's 2008 book Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist, currently available from Just Write Books.
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Buy the Book
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Winter Trout: Nix the Fancy Equipment

1/30/2020

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Photo by Dave Small.
​    It was a warm Saturday in Midcoast Maine and my fishing buddy Allen Gallant decided that we two ought to go trout fishing in some of the year-round waters in our area. 

    Instead of lures or flies, we brought a pail of live bait, golden shiners. Trout won’t travel too far now that the water has become super-chilled and in order to entice them to bite, we need to put the most attractive offering possible right in front of their noses. 
    This requires fishing on or near bottom, something not always possible with flies or lures. 
    We fished our first spot, with no results. So then we decided to give another popular river a shot. And as expected on a nice, warm day, even one in January, fly-fishers were out in droves. The pools we wished to fish were jam-packed with fly casters, some wading (this is a small river and it is possible to cast all the way across it, no real need to wade) out in the middle of the pool. 
    Disgusted, I didn’t even take my rod out of the car. But Allen, undaunted, chose the only remaining spot on the river that wasn’t occupied by people with fly rods. Hooking on a live shiner, Allen dropped his offering down and almost immediately, got a bite. The fish got his bait without getting hooked, so he re-baited and this time he hooked the fish. 
   The fly-fisher, wading in the pool just upstream of the bridge, watched in obvious disgust, as Allen derricked his 12 ½- inch brook trout up to the pavement. ​
​  Another fly fisherman, practically drooling, asked if we were done fishing from the bridge because he wanted to fish there and we let him have it. 
    Everything about this did my heart good. It was a joy to watch someone catch a nice trout this time of year. And it was even more of a joy to see Allen, with his somewhat beat-up, spincasting outfit and live shiners, take a fish when the guys with all their ultra-sophisticated and expensive gear come up with nothing. 
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Allen Gallant holds aloft his catch.
​  It all just goes to show that waders, fancy equipment, hundreds of fly patterns and everything else that goes along with it, don’t necessarily translate to a productive day on the water. Just ask my buddy Allen. 

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​Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.
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Dave Small, photographer, has taken pictures for Bangor Daily News, U.S. Fish and Wildlife brochures, and signs in wildlife management areas, to name a few. His photos are for "conservation and education and are free for those uses". Visit his website, photosbychance.zenfolio.com, for more.
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Wintertime Photo Adventure

1/24/2020

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    ​​Every once in a while in winter I’ll go on a photo, “adventure” with friend and wildlife photographer David Small. 
    Dave introduced me to this cold-weather activity and now I’m hooked. 
It amazes me just how much wildlife a person can see by just looking out over a protected harbor. Seabirds, many of which are only present in winter, swim past in wild profusion. 
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Even in winter, harbor seals will come out for an impromptu photoshoot. Photo by Dave Small
​And mammals, too, prove to be very much in evidence. During our last adventure, Dave and I watched a harbor seal doing a seal-version of cartwheels in Rockport Harbor. Even when the animal was underwater, we could see its position and even plot its course by watching the bubbles from the air that it exhaled. 

Lively Time


​Too many people have the mistaken idea that our bays and seashores are bereft of life in winter. Instead, though, winter sees a great deal of wildlife activity. You just have to get out there and watch in order to see it. 
Here’s something about one of the more common winter birds seen in saltwater environs. Common loons, known for the “checkerboard” pattern on their backs, become pretty much nondescript in winter.
But the physical shape of the bird doesn’t change and if you’ve seen a loon in summer you can easily identify one in winter. 
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Loons can be identified both in summer and in winter, even if they're less common in the colder months.
Cabin Fever Reliever

    For me, getting out on a photoshoot in winter means getting out of the house. A freelance writer, I am cooped up all winter, sitting at my writing desk in a wood-heated office. 

    So going to various harbors up and down the Midcoast region gets me out and breaks the “cabin fever” stranglehold. It’s also a time to dine out. Hot beverages never taste as good as when consumed after coming in from the cold. 
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Basically, I think we all need to get out in nature, no matter the time of year. And bringing a camera to photograph marine wildlife stands within the reach of almost everyone. 
So bundle up, get that camera ready and head for the coast. Adventure awaits. ​
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Postum

1/23/2020

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Once a common sight in kitchens, Postum has nearly vanished from store shelves.
    Yesterday, a jar of Postum helped boost my faith in human nature. Postum, for the younger crowd, is a blend of wheat, bran and molasses. It dates to 1895 and was a favorite beverage during the days of coffee rationing in WWII. 
    ​Being born in the 1940s, when Postum was a standard in every store shelf, I was given the sweetish-tasting beverage as a youth  and just 
the name brings back happy memories. But then as the years rolled on, Postum became less popular and eventually the company went out of business. I didn’t know it, but another company recently began manufacturing Postum once again, after all that time. 
    Every so often over the years, something would trigger my memory and thoughts of Postum would pass through my mind. And so when I spied a jar of Postum on the shelf at Hope General Store in Hope, Maine, I was delighted. 
​    Picking up the jar, though, put an end to my delight. The asking  price was far more than I could afford and I put the jar back on the shelf. Just then, the lady behind the counter, one of the owners, told me to just take the jar and enjoy it. 
    It seems that a customer, who really wasn’t much of a customer, had asked the store to special-order some Postum, which they did. But the customer never returned to pick up the Postum. 
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At the Hope General Store, customers can find kindness and, if they're lucky, some Postum.
​    And so there it sat, viewed by many who in all likelihood had no idea what the stuff was. Until I saw it. 
    For this lady to do something so kind, for a stranger, was beyond belief. What’s more, she was very pleased to find someone who enjoyed Postum. I told her about how, as a youngster in the very early 1950s, my grandma would make two cups of Postum, one for me and one for her, and we would sit around the table and discuss matters of the day. 
    And because of that kindly lady at Hope General Store, it all came back, those Halcyon days of youth. 
    Back home the next morning, it was time to see if Postum still tasted the same. Had my perhaps, overactive memory filled in blanks that were never there? Did the stuff still taste as I remembered? 
    One sip said it all. Mildly sweetish and with no trace of bitterness, I was transported back 60-some years in time. 
    So hold on to hope, hope that somewhere out there is a person you don’t even know, who will bolster your faith in the goodness of people. 
    By the way, most stores have yet to stock Postum. Health-food stores, though, may have some on hand. Postum is also available online, from the company. Just type in “Postum” on your search engine.
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Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.
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A Red Squirrel Mystery

1/16/2020

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  Imagine sitting in a ground blind in the woods waiting for a deer to pass by. The silent forest seems ripe for some kind of action. And then, suddenly, comes a rustling of leaves, signaling the movement of some wild animal, perhaps a deer.  
    Nerves tense. Hands grip the rifle a little firmer and the pulse quickens as the “deer” approaches ever-closer. Has the moment of truth arrived? 
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Once a noisy staple of hunting, red squirrels have all but vanished from Maine's forests. Photo by Dave Small
Then suddenly, the still woodlands erupt in a cacophony of chatter and squawks. A red squirrel has spotted the hunter and has turned itself into a one-squirrel, three-ring circus, chattering, tail whipping, jumping and running in first one direction, then the other. 
    To make matters worse, once a lone red squirrel begins its noisy protest, other squirrels in the vicinity often add their two cents to the matter. In the end, the notion of waiting for a deer becomes an exercise in futility. ​

Times have changed

    That was then and this is now and that same hunter on the same deer stand can easily sit in place all day and never even imagine a red squirrel. But where did the squirrels go? What could possibly erase such a strong presence as red squirrels? 
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So one theory goes, barred owls are the culprit behind the disappearance of the red squirrels. Photo by Dave Small
   Theories abound. One popular thought on the matter, which I don’t necessarily subscribe to, is that last winter’s prolonged snowcrust prevented meadow voles from coming topside. This, in turn, deprived barred owls of their mainstay. Owls eat lots of things, including hares. But since the arrival of eastern coyotes, snowshoe hare numbers have decreased in much of their range. That, in turn, put even more pressure on voles. 
   The idea, then, is that starving owls have eaten all the red squirrels. It’s a nice-sounding answer to the question of where the red squirrels went, but is it accurate?
    Owls are nocturnal, while red squirrels are diurnal; they become most active at dusk and dawn. Red squirrels do range about in the daytime, but only very rarely at night. Also, owls need a bit of room to swoop down and grab their prey. But since red squirrels spend the night in trees, it’s difficult to imagine how an owl could manage to kill a squirrel at all. Something else must have caused the red squirrel population to plummet. 
    Perhaps I’m wrong. But perhaps I’m right, and if so, what might we consider next? 
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Migration Theory 

    Well, squirrels migrate. The gray squirrel irruption of the last several years has ended abruptly. The squirrels just left. It’s a known fact that gray squirrels migrate en masse, sometimes crossing major rivers, lemming-like in their mass pilgrimages.
    So might red squirrels have done the same thing? Until someone can definitely prove where the red squirrels went, I’m sticking to my migration theory. And with that, I’ll go further out on the proverbial limb and predict that just as they left, red squirrels will return. 
    Range maps of various wildlife species remind me of the shapeless blobs inside a lava lamp, constantly expanding and contracting. Much of this is easily explained by changes in food sources, along with other more subtle factors. 
    In summation, I’m not too worried about red squirrels. My thought is that somewhere, someplace, there are an awful lot of red squirrels and they will eventually return to their traditional haunts. We’ll just have to wait and see how it all shakes out.  
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Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.
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Dave Small, photographer, has taken pictures for Bangor Daily News, U.S. Fish and Wildlife brochures, and signs in wildlife management areas, to name a few. His photos are for "conservation and education and are free for those uses". Visit his website, photosbychance.zenfolio.com, for more.
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    An avid writer and naturalist, Tom writes four regular columns and a multitude of features. He wrote a long running award winning column "Waldo County Outdoors" and a garden column for Courier Publications

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Tom Seymour
194 East Waldo Road
Waldo, ME 04915-3317

(207) 338-9746
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