~VOLUNTEERS NEEDED~ Please join the LRWP, our Americorps Watershed Ambassador and community partners including Friends of Mile Run Brook, Greater Brunswick Charter School, Esperanza Neighborhood Project, the New Brunswick Environmental Commission, Elmwood Cemetery and the New Brunswick Department of Public Works for a multi-site clean-up of Mile Run Brook, culminating in a community celebration in Boyd Park!
WHAT: a clean-up of Mile Run Brook, followed by a community picnic and celebration
WHEN: Saturday May 12
9:00 AM to noon – clean-up of multiple sites.
12-1:30 pm community gathering / picnic in Boyd Park.
WHERE: Multiple sites in New Brunswick
Site 1: Friends of Mile Run Brook / Corner of Hamilton Street and Woodbridge Street
Site 2: Esperanza Neighborhood Project / Corner of French Street and Sandford Street
Site 3: Greater Brunswick Charter School (closed group)
Site 4: Elmwood Cemetery / Entrance at Commercial Avenue
Please wear closed toe shoes and clothes you are willing to get wet and dirty. Gloves and bags will be provided!
WAIVERS
5.12.2018 MRB clean-up waiver, English
Permission and rights granted to LRWP to record and use image and voice, English
For more information
Heather: hfenyk AT lowerraritanwatershed DOT org
or Americorps Watershed Ambassador Rob Hughes: wsamb AT raritanbasin DOT org
Article and photos by Joseph Mish
A thin blue line drawn on a map, comes to life in this photograph. A plaque, inset in a concrete bridge spanning the stream, constructed in 1923, a map showing a thin blue line depicting the stream and an image of the stream as it exists today just before it reaches the South Branch.
If all the water that ever flowed from the Raritan River drainage could be measured, its contribution to the depth of the ocean would be impressive. Think of that watershed as a collection agency for world’s oceans.
An aerial view of the Raritan River clearly shows its two main branches, the South Branch, and the North Branch. The South Branch draining more area than the North. The confluence of the North and South branch mark the beginning of the Raritan River.
A closer look reveals the larger tributaries which feed the main branches; Rockaway creek, Black River/ Lamington River and the Neshanic River, all of which are clearly noted on maps.
No less important, are the numerous smaller brooks and creeks whose contribution is significant and whose names may appear only on old maps or engraved on marble plaques set in the structures that bridge their banks; Peter’s brook, Chamber’s brook, Pleasant run, Prescott brook, Assiscong creek, Minneakoning creek, Holland brook and the First, Second and Third Neshanic rivers. Hoopstick, Prescott and Bushkill are lesser known streams, within plain view, that bear no identifying name.
There are dozens more minor streams whose names appear nowhere except on an obscure online list. Each one eventually feeds into the Raritan or its two main branches above their confluence. Knowing someone’s name is a sign of respect. Calling someone by the wrong name can be embarrassing. However, the sign that identifies the North branch of the Raritan as the Raritan River proper, has failed to embarrass those responsible for posting such signs.
Many smaller seeps and springs whose names have been lost to the ages, add to the accumulated flow. Driving along the Lamington, for instance, there are endless watery traces, arising from springs within the woods that empty into larger tributaries. Many are just moist creases worn through the soil over time, which collect rainwater and snow melt to supplement the downstream daily flow.
Maps show nameless springs, which make the cartographer’s final draft, as thin blue lines. Often, a network of converging shorter lines, each with a defined beginning, join to form larger streams like Pleasant run and Holland brook.
These obscure water sources fascinate me simply because their anonymity and remote location arouses curiosity. Their presence also represents a convergence of habitat types that attract birds and wildlife. Though they bear no labels to honor their faithful contribution to the next blue line and ultimate confluence, their importance should not be overlooked.
Many springs which appeared on old maps no longer exist, eliminated by construction of sewer lines or filled in. As maps are revised and generations fade, these streams exist only in a cartographer’s archive.
My appreciation for these disappearing blue lines was heightened when I recently discovered that as a kid, I walked over Slingtail brook every day on the way to school. At some point this little stream was diverted through a sewer line under the pavement. More amazing, even older residents had no memory of that stream whose name has been lost to the ages.
An extended winter freeze, preserving snow from a previous storm, beyond its expected stay, was interrupted by a thaw and heavy rain. The melting snow joined the torrential rain as it flowed over frozen ground to collect in every shallow crease leading to the river. The water’s velocity was enhanced by the decreasing gradient of deep well-worn pathways etched in the earth.
Where water barely trickled most of the year, a proportional biblical flood now ensued.
The banks of the successively larger streams barely contained the accumulation of water delivered from the network of anonymous thin blue lines. Acting as a single entity, the collection agency if you will, the Raritan River drainage, faithfully delivered its contribution of sweet water to the world’s salty oceans.
Cattail brook arises from the convergence of a network of bubbling springs, supplemented by runoff from rain and snow fall. It begins as hardly more than a trickle, directed by gravity, from the south facing ridge of the heavily forested Sourland mountains. The DNA extracted from a drop of water, taken from the deepest canyon in the ocean, would trace its lineage back to cattail brook through its genetic progeny. Cattail gives birth to Rock Brook, a tumultuous and moody stream that joins the more sedate Bedens brook on its way to the Millstone river. The Millstone brings its accumulated genetic material to blend with that of the Raritan to make a final contribution to the earth’s deep blue oceans.
We use our imagination as we await the technology that can trace the oceans DNA back up Cattail brook to show a single drop of morning dew that dripped from a box turtles face, was a critical contribution to the blue ocean we see via satellite images of the earth.
Rock brook derives its character from the influence of gravity which changes its mood from an idyllic mountain brook to a raging torrent.
Author Joe Mish has been running wild in New Jersey since childhood when he found ways to escape his mother’s watchful eyes. He continues to trek the swamps, rivers and thickets seeking to share, with the residents and visitors, all of the state’s natural beauty hidden within full view. To read more of his writing and view more of his gorgeous photographs visit Winter Bear Rising, his wordpress blog. Joe’s series “Nature on the Raritan, Hidden in Plain View” runs monthly as part of the LRWP “Voices of the Watershed” series. Writing and photos used with permission from the author.
Article by Quentin Zorn
My name is Quentin, and I am a junior at Rutgers studying environmental policy. Over the course of this semester, I have been interning with the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership and have had the opportunity to work on a wide variety of projects relating to water quality issues. I participated in many stream cleanups, attended many exciting events such as the Raritan River Festival, got to contribute to several long-term art projects and learned a lot along the way. This experience has not only taught me a lot about watershed management, but also has broadened my way of thinking and strengthened my passion for combating environmental issues.
One of the more exciting projects I was able to participate in was teaching kids from the Plainfield Youth Center about water quality and watershed management, and to work on an art project with them. This was part of the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership’s Project WADES Environmental Education curriculum. We started off by taking the kids to a nearby stream and training them in visual habitat assessments and how to notice what kinds of things can impair stream quality, such as nearby roads, maintained lawns and lack of riparian cover. We got to help build a foundation with these kids at a young age, which will help them understand and care about water quality issues as they grow up.
The art project we worked on with the kids was a lot of fun and interactive. Each kid selected a piece of trash found at a cleanup in the Lower Raritan Watershed, and then held that piece of trash in a container, which we would then fill with an algae-based mold called alginate.
The finished products were a bunch of unique sculptures of hands holding the trash.
When I was working on my own on this internship, I got to explore and contribute to several different datasets. I worked on a master database of every municipality in the Lower Raritan Watershed that contained a wide variety of information on each town’s environmental and development plans. I also worked with data from the New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection on different industries that have permits to pollute into the Raritan River, and I helped make this data more coherent and complete. This helped me understand what kind of information is important when considering water quality, and also my contributions helped make more complete and meaningful logs of data. It was really satisfying to see all this information come together and fulfilling to know that the public can access this data and learn what is going on in their watershed.
There were many cleanups of streams in the watershed throughout the duration of my internship, and I participated in as many as I could. The cleanups were far more rewarding than I anticipated them being. Arriving at any given cleanup gave me a feeling of hopelessness when I would see how much trash there was. I would think, “we can make this a little better, but it’s still going to be in a bad condition.” Every single cleanup I was surprised by how good of a job everyone did, and how great the area looked when we left. Seeing all of the trash piled up in the end was always shocking but felt good to have gotten it all out of the ecosystem.
On November 17 the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership joined with NOAA to co-host a day-long workshop: “Introducing Green Infrastructure for Coastal Resilience”. This workshop, designed for planners, engineers and municipal leaders not yet familiar with GI for coastal resilience, brought in more than 50 participants from the Lower Raritan Watershed and throughout New Jersey. It was a great event!
Workshop participants brainstorm ways to implement Green Infrastructure in their communities
Many thanks to everyone who joined us for the workshop, with special thanks to our speakers: Lauren Long (NOAA), Toby Horton & Jeremiah Bergstrom (Rutgers Cooperative Extension), John Trucsinski (The Nature Conservancy), Linda Weber (Sustainable Jersey) and Carter Craft (Consulate General of the Netherlands).
Tobiah Horton (Rutgers Extension), Lauren Long (NOAA) and Carter Craft (Consulate General of the Netherlands) discuss local resilience responses
The workshop was timed to coincide with the 5th anniversary of Superstorm Sandy. We saw this anniversary as an opportune moment to reflect on successes in implementing GI thus far, as well as to frame challenges, solutions and opportunities for future GI interventions. Of course this work is just beginning. The LRWP, NOAA and Rutgers Marine Sciences are discussing how to continue the conversation in 2018. Stay tuned! For now, please see conference handouts, presentations, and additional resources below.
Participant Agenda:
Conference Handouts:
Presentations:
Notes:
Additional Resources:
Article and photos by Joe Sapia
Soft morning sunlight contrasts with threatening skies at the high ground of Thompson Park in Monroe, Middlesex County.
A popular winter activity for generations at Thompson Park is sledding from the high ground toward the low ground around “Jamesburg Lake” (properly Lake Manalapan). The 30-acre lake is formed by the damming of Manalapan Brook at Jamesburg. Remember, there are few, if any, natural bodies of water on the Coastal Plain.
Sledding at Thompson Park in Monroe, Middlesex County, via my 2001 folk art Christmas card.
SNOWFALL: The Saturday, December 30, snowfall of 1.0 inch at my house in the part of Monroe between Helmetta and Jamesburg, Middlesex County, brought the season’s total to 9.0 inches. The seasonal average for New Brunswick, Middlesex County, about 7 miles away, is 25.8 inches. Elsewhere in the Midlands, according to the National Weather Service, with these readings based on what had been reported by reliable spotters at the end of the snowfall and perhaps not comprehensive: Burlington County: a high of 2.5 inches at Florence to a low of 1.5 inches at Moorestown; Hunterdon County: 1.0 inch in Lebanon to .8 inches at Whitehouse Station; Mercer County: 3.2 inches in Hamilton to 2.5 inches in Ewing; Monmouth County: 2.8 inches in the Howell area to .9 inches in Shrewsbury; Somerset County: 1.0 inch in Basking Ridge to .8 inches in Bridgewater; Ocean County: 3.3 in Jackson to 1.5 inches in Toms River.
Main Street in Cranbury, Middlesex County, in the Saturday, December 30, snowfall.
Iced-over and snow-covered Devil’s Brook on the boundary of Plainsboro and South Brunswick, Middlesex County.
Cranbury Brook as it drains Brainerd Lake (“Cranbury Lake’) in Middlesex County.
SAFE ICE: This time of year, and especially in the hard freeze the Jersey Midlands is in the midst of, we may be tempted to walk out on ice or go skating on it. Be careful! My rule of thumb is the ice must be at least 4-inches-thick. But various factors could come into play, such as warming temperatures, honey-combing, and running water. So, additionally, I look for crystal clear ice or blue-white ice. I am careful of melting ice, snow insulating ice, channels that may run through bodies of water, and fragile ice where water meets land or vegetation.
Anglers on an iced-over Helmetta Pond.
ICE SAFETY: If ice is breaking underneath, displace your weight by lying flat. For would-be rescuers, follow this order: throw (a line or flotation device), row (a boat to the person), go (yourself only as a last resort). Probably the soundest advice is to immediately seek help from expert rescuers.
Prospertown Lake in Jackson, Ocean County. The lake is at the northern extreme of the main Pine Barrens.
SWAMP-WALKING: With the sub-freezing high temperatures for an extended period, this is what I look for — a good freeze of the swamps, allowing access to otherwise difficult places to get to. I love swamps!
An iced-over wet area in the Manalapan Brook floodplain in Monroe, Middlesex County.
SWAMP-WALKING, No. 2: I started off into the woods across the street from my house – in the Pine Barrens of Monroe, Middlesex County – to do some swamp-walking in the Manalapan Brook floodplain. I did do some, but I got sidetracked when I noticed the abundance of winterberry, genus “Ilex.” I did not get around to making a Christmas wreath or swag, which I decorate with winterberry, but I wound up gathering winterberry to display on its own. I came home with a nice bundle. (To conserve, I broke only one branch from each selected bush.)
Winterberry from the swamp hardwood forest of the Manalapan Brook floodplain on display on my antique kitchen table.
SNOW GEESE: I finally saw some snow geese, “Chen caerulescens,” down from the Arctic as I was driving along the Mercer County-Middlesex County boundary on the border of East Windsor, Cranbury, and Monroe. They were easy to identify by their white bodies and black-tipped wings. There were only a few, rather than a flock. I took a few minutes to see if they were joining a flock on some farmland, but I was going to work and had limited time, finding nothing in my quick search.
Canada geese, “Branta Canadensis,” is a snow-covered field in South Brunswick, Middlesex County.
ATLANTIC OCEAN TEMPERATURES: The Atlantic Ocean temperature at Sandy Hook on December 30-31 weekend ranged from about 30 to 35 degrees.
A quiet December Atlantic Ocean beach, looking from Avon-by-the-Sea to Asbury Park, Monmouth County.
MOON: The next full moon, the Full Moon After Yule, is January 1, New Year’s Day.
The near-full moon over the swamp hardwood forest of the Manalapan Brook floodplain in Monroe, Middlesex County.
SUNRISE/SUNSET: For Sunday, December 31, to Saturday, January 6, the sun will rise about 7:20 a.m. and set about 4:35 to 4:40 p.m. For Sunday, January 7, to Saturday, January 13, the sun will rise about 7:20 a.m. and set about 4:45 to 4:50 p.m.
Soft sunlight on Manalapan Brook in Monroe, Middlesex County, as it flows toward Helmetta and Spotswood, also in Middlesex County.
Joe Sapia, 61, is a lifelong resident of Monroe — in South Middlesex County, where his maternal family settled more than 100 years ago. He is a Pine Barrens naturalist and a gardener of organic vegetables and fruit, along with zinnias and roses. He draws inspiration on the Pine Barrens around Helmetta from his mother, Sophie Onda Sapia, who lived her whole life in these Pines, and his Polish-immigrant grandmother, Annie Poznanski Onda. He gardens the same backyard plot as did his Grandma Annie and Italian-American father, Joe Sr. Both are inspirations for his food gardening. Ma inspires his rose gardening. Joe is a semi-retired print journalist of almost 40 years. His work also is at @JosephSapia on Twitter.com, along with Facebook.com on the Jersey Midlands page.
Copyright 2017 by Joseph Sapia
In November the New Brunswick Community Arts Council invited the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership to participate in the inaugural “Windows of Understanding: We see through Hate” project. Windows of Understanding seeks to:
• Counteract the negativity and hate perpetuated in the headlines – by installing community art interventions that illustrate the compassion and love being exercised around us.
• Promote awareness about the vast array of social justice issues being addressed in New
Brunswick, connecting organizations with the wider community and each-other.
• Transform our “Main Street” spaces into literal windows of understanding.
The LRWP was paired with Kim’s Bike Shop (111 French St, New Brunswick, NJ 08901). Working with Kim’s and our coLAB Arts National Endowment for the Arts resident artist Jamie Bruno, the LRWP has developed “Listen to your neighbor, listen to the land” – which will be installed at Kim’s from January 15-February 28. “Listen to your neighbor, listen to the land” reflects the way the LRWP sees through hate as well as the way we hope to connect to our communities. The installation incorporates shoes filled with soil and plants. The shoes represent people, travel, and change. The soil represents our origins in the land.
From Jamie Bruno’s artist statement:
Across religion, race and culture we all spring from the earth and its water and soil. The plants give hope for survival and sustenance: hope to grow new roots and make new connections. The title asks the viewer to listen to their neighbors over the din of every day life. Our neighbors are people who live near us. People who live on the land we live on, yet whose stories we often do not know. In urban environments it can be difficult to know land too, yet she is everywhere: Under the pavement, in the water we drink, in the air we breathe.
• The shoes represent the human element, the “neighbor” through travel, labor and economic change in addition to empathetic connection across class, race and culture; an admonition to “walk in another’s shoes.”
• The soil represents land: absorption, filtration, and contamination. Soil health effects human health though the quality of our fruits and vegetables as their roots gather nutrients and the quality of the water in our watersheds as water either filters slowly through healthy soil becoming clean or flows quickly above compacted soil carrying waste.
• The plants represent the hope to grow new roots in new places and to make new connections. Plants store and slow water as it moves through the landscape, further cleaning it, thereby increasing the landscapes inherent value to local wildlife and to neighbors, whether they pass through or decide to stick around and plant their own seeds.
The LRWP and Kim’s invite you to join us from 2-4 PM on Monday January 15, 2018 for the “unveiling” of “Listen to your neighbor, listen to the land” and for refreshments. We will be outside in front of the store planting milkweed for participants to take home, and handing out seed packets for summer gardens.
For more information contact Jamie Bruno: jamie@colab-arts.org
Article and photos by Joe Mish
A Red fox fills out a page in its daily diary, handwritten in the fresh snow along the South Branch.
The thirty-one days allotted to January on the calendar is only a suggestion, as far as that month is concerned.
January arrived ahead of schedule this December in a fit of impatience at the slow start of winter. The dull cold and dark days that prefaced winter’s birth seemed to stall the arrival of January and the blistering pace of expanding daylength and razor sharp cold.
As December reflected on the satisfaction of delivering twins, in the form of winter and light, the cold, wind and snow remained idling in the dark, awaiting a new leader. January came to the rescue as it honed the sharpness of the cold to a razor’s edge with forceful arctic wind, in whose draft, daylight was pulled along at an accelerated pace.
The whirlwind that is January never rests as it constantly delivers snow and light wrapped in cold and often spiced with biting wind.
Despite being scheduled for 31 days, January makes the time fly along with everlasting snow and does its best to co-author February weather.
In an attempt to freeze time so it can linger longer than scheduled, January’s frigid breath turns the river’s surface into a crystal lattice of solid ice. Impressive, but not miraculous and arguably unintended.
It is actually possible to watch January at work as it arranges hydrogen and oxygen atoms into a three-dimensional arrangement as it forms ice. A fast-moving cold front dropped the temperature below freezing. The river water was already cooled to 38 degrees and colder in the shallow eddies along the shore. As I fumbled with my camera I noticed ice forming along the edges of one pool. Crystals began to grow from a branch, mid pool, as well as the edges. When I looked again a few minutes later, the ice had expanded several inches. It was like watching a time lapsed movie where time is condensed from hours to seconds. However, this was happening in real time. I was amazed how quickly ice was forming. Crystals grew especially fast from three different areas. Two looked amazingly like feathers, one mimicked a large bird feather while the second looked so much like the cut feather used to fletch an arrow. The third crystal was an exact image of a starburst, where five pointed spikes began to outgrow the shorter but expanding tines. I stared in amazement as the ice images grew before my eyes as if watching an artist at work. The arrow feather magically turned into the body of what I imagined to be a grouse. The other feather grew into the body of some other large bird, the intricacies of each quill carefully detailed. Ice grew from the edges until the sheltered water had been completely sealed with a plate of fine transparent etchings. Though the artist was invisible, evidence of his existence was apparent.
January may seem harsh at times but all life has evolved to cope with its overly enthusiastic nature. As a concession, January snow provides a comment section for life along the river to tell their stories. Even the wind has the opportunity to take a single blade of grass and delicately etch its thoughts into the blank white slate.
A gray fox reveals its path and daily activity, as if written in an open diary, from the moment it left its sheltered nook to the strategy used to capture a tasty vole and the heart of a January love interest.
Fox tracks in the new snow with strands of straw colored grass bathed in the contrast of subtle light changes would make a fine Christmas card from the fox. The tracks convey a signed message that translates even to those who aren’t conversant in the language of ‘fox’.
A page purloined from the fox’s diary reveals its thoughts and activity written in the January snow. The fox stopped here atop a snowdrift to scan the area ahead for a meal or a mate, whichever came first.
Loathe to depart, January wills its wintry legacy to February who politely accepts it to bolster the enthusiasm of the fading winter.
December is as far as the year will take us, though fear not, January awaits holding the door to a new year wide open with a welcoming ice cold wind to ensure we enter fully awake and energized.
A red fox is a magical creature but even a fox cannot walk on water unless January turns it into a crystal lattice. This fox crosses the river, lured by the siren call of a potential mate.
Author Joe Mish has been running wild in New Jersey since childhood when he found ways to escape his mother’s watchful eyes. He continues to trek the swamps, rivers and thickets seeking to share, with the residents and visitors, all of the state’s natural beauty hidden within full view. To read more of his writing and view more of his gorgeous photographs visit Winter Bear Rising, his wordpress blog. Joe’s series “Nature on the Raritan, Hidden in Plain View” runs monthly as part of the LRWP “Voices of the Watershed” series. Writing and photos used with permission from the author.
Help us kick-off the New Year by giving some clean-up attention to Middlesex County’s Johnson Park (Piscataway). Since we last cleaned that area a pair of Bald Eagles has moved in! We’ll stay clear of their nesting grounds, but there is plenty to do in the rest of the floodplain. We will meet 9:30am at the Middlesex County Parks Department offices, and from there caravan to the clean-up site.
WHAT: a clean-up of Johnson Park on Sunday January 14 from 9:30 AM to 11 AM (cutting things short because of the nip in the air)
WHERE: Clean-up kick-off at 1030 River Road in Piscataway, Middlesex County Parks Headquarters lobby.
PLEASE NOTE: if there is snow on the ground on January 14, we will have to postpone the clean-up. (Its hard to find litter when you can’t see it!) – check on the event webpage to verify
This Event is co-coordinated by the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership and the Middlesex County Department of Parks. With special thanks to Middlesex County for cartage and supplies.
Please dress appropriately for the weather. Gloves and bags will be provided!
*** For more information contact Heather hfenyk@lowerraritanwatershed.org ***
Article and photos by Joe Sapia
Note: The yard references are to my house in the section of Monroe between Helmetta and Jamesburg in South Middlesex County. My yard is in a Pine Barrens outlier on the Inner Coastal Plain, the soil is loamy, and my neighborhood is on the boundary of Gardening Zones 6b (cooler) and 7a (warmer). Notes and photographs are by the author and for the period covered, unless otherwise noted.
The foliage change of colors may be past its peak, but the colors continue to dazzle. Here, morning sunlight shines on a cove in a section of Farrington Lake on the East Brunswick-North Brunswick boundary in Middlesex County.
VOICES FROM AFIELD, DIANE LARSON, EAGLES: Diane Larson, who lives along Beaver Dam Creek in Brick, Ocean County, checked in: “Just wanted to share what happened (Sunday, November 26) morning. We noticed the seagulls abruptly flying, like they were spooked, then saw these two guys flying right above our house, and landed on the house across the lagoon from us!” Bald eagles, “Haliaeetus leucocephalus.” In New Jersey, the species is “endangered” as a breeder, or in immediate peril, and “threatened” otherwise, meaning if conditions continue, it could become “endangered.” “They flew in the area all morning, it was awesome to watch,” Diane said.
Two bald eagles in the Beaver Dam Creek area of Brick, Ocean County. (Photograph copyright 2017 by Diane Larson)
MORE EAGLES: Michael Franken has been reporting bald eagles from the boundary of Cranbury and Plainsboro in Middlesex County.
Bald eagles on a deer carcass along the Cranbury-Plainsboro boundary in Middlesex County. (Photo copyright 2017 by Michael Franken Photography)
VOICES FROM AFIELD, DIANE LARSON, NO. 2, JUNCOS: Diane Larson, who is the home horticulturist for the Monmouth County office of the Rutgers University Cooperative Extension, said, “I just went out to the back to check on the gardens behind our office. I heard unfamiliar bird sounds and followed them to see dozens of juncos (“Junco hyemalis,” or snowbird) on a tree back there. I then saw why they were there. They were all around the sweetgum tree (“Liquidambar styraciflua”) eating the seeds from the sweetgum balls.”
SNOWY OWLS: Reports are coming in of snowy owls, “Bubo scandiacus,” down from the Arctic. In recent years, I have heard two theories on the uptick of snowy owls in our area, both related to their food of choice, lemmings, “Dicrostonyx torquatus.” One is that there could be a shortage of lemmings, so the owls migrate farther than normal to find food. The other theory is there was an abundance of lemmings and because of this, owls prospered, having more offspring. A snowy owl story from nj.com: http://www.nj.com/ocean/index.ssf/2017/11/snowy_owl_explosion_expected_in_new_jersey_this_ye.html.
DRIVE-BY NATURALIST, STARLINGS: As I was walking through the Rutgers University campus in downtown New Brunswick, Middlesex County, I encountered a flock of starlings, flying and perching in trees. “For much of the year, they wheel through the sky and mob lawns in big, noisy flocks,” according to Cornell University’s All About Birds website. Starlings, “Sturnus vulgaris,” are non-native. “First brought to North America by (playwright William) Shakespeare enthusiasts in the 19th Century, European Starlings are now among the continent’s most numerous songbirds,” according to All About Birds.
A flock of starlings at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, Middlesex County.
Perched starlings at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, Middlesex County.
DRIVE-BY NATURALIST, SUNSET: As I was headed to the Rocky Hill area of Somerset County, I came across a beautiful sunset on the Monroe-South Brunswick boundary in Middlesex County. It was a wonderful orange sky, with the farmland I was photographing across providing “big sky” views.
Sunset on the boundary of Monroe and South Brunswick, Middlesex County.
EARTHQUAKE: On Thursday, November 30, the rumble you may have felt was a 4.1 earthquake centered near Dover, Delaware. The Did-You-Feel-It response to the United States Geological Survey, https://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eventpage/us1000bjkn#dyfi.
HURRICANE SEASON: The Atlantic Ocean hurricane season ended Thursday, November 30. During the season, which began June 1, there were 17 named storms of which 6 were major hurricanes, according to Channel 6 television in Philadelphia. “Three Category 4 hurricanes” – those with winds of 130 to 156 miles per hour — “made US landfall,” according to Channel 6. A primer on hurricanes from the National Hurricane Center, http://www.nhc.noaa.gov/aboutsshws.php.
‘LIVING SHORELINES’ PROPOSAL: Congressman Frank Pallone, who lives in Long Branch, is to introduce legislation creating the Living Shorelines Act, which would provide federal grant money for building up shorelines with plants and other natural materials. The idea is to prevent flooding and erosion, along with providing habitat, in a natural way. See Pallone’s op-ed in the Wednesday, November 29, Asbury Park Press, http://www.app.com/story/opinion/columnists/2017/11/29/living-shorelines-act-frank-pallone/108143866/.
In this 2016 photograph, an Atlantic Ocean natural beach at Sandy Hook, Monmouth County, with the New York City area in the background.
CHRISTMAS TREES, SLIM PICKINGS AND HIGHER PRICES: We were just talking about how fewer trees were planted because of the Great Recession about 10 years ago. And, 10 years later, those trees are ready – in smaller numbers and, in turn, higher prices. Here is a New York Times story on the matter, https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/30/business/christmas-tree-shortage-recession.html.
DEER RUT: A 63-year-old Franklin, Somerset County, died from injuries suffered in a motor-vehicle accident in his hometown that happened during the ongoing mating season, or rut, of deer, “Odocoileus virginianus.” Be careful while driving, especially during the rut, which will likely extend into about mid-December.
FULL MOON: The upcoming full moon — the Full Long Night Moon on the December 3-4, Sunday-Monday overnight — will be 2017’s only full “super moon,” that is, when the full moon comes close to the Earth, or 222,443 miles away. The closest will be at 4 a.m. Monday, December 4, when the moon will appear “about 7 percent larger and 16 percent brighter than usual,” according to the National Geographic.
The near-full moon around 4 a.m. from my backyard in Monroe, Middlesex County.
OCEAN TEMPERATURE: The Atlantic Ocean temperature at Sandy Hook was about 48 degrees over the Dec. 2-3 weekend.
SUNRISE/SUNSET: For Sunday, December 3, to Saturday, December 9, the sun will rise about 7:05 to 7:10 a.m. and set about 4:30 p.m. For Sunday, December 10, to Saturday, December 16, the sun will rise about 7:10 to 7:15 a.m. and set about 4:30 to 4:35 p.m.
WEATHER: The National Weather Service forecasting station for the area is at http://www.weather.gov/phi/.
Sunrise at Manalapan Brook in Monroe, Middlesex County.
Joe Sapia, 61, is a lifelong resident of Monroe — in South Middlesex County, where his maternal family settled more than 100 years ago. He is a Pine Barrens naturalist and a gardener of organic vegetables and fruit, along with zinnias and roses. He draws inspiration on the Pine Barrens around Helmetta from his mother, Sophie Onda Sapia, who lived her whole life in these Pines, and his Polish-immigrant grandmother, Annie Poznanski Onda. He gardens the same backyard plot as did his Grandma Annie and Italian-American father, Joe Sr. Both are inspirations for his food gardening. Ma inspires his rose gardening. Joe is a semi-retired print journalist of almost 40 years. His work also is at @JosephSapia on Twitter.com, along with Facebook.com on the Jersey Midlands page.
Copyright 2017 by Joseph Sapia
Article and photos by Joe Mish
Portrait of a sycamore branch with a fox in the background. Female fox was so intent on her early morning hunt, I was able to get within 30 paces before she noticed me.
Snow follows December like a lazy white shadow that lingers in the bright light of day. A shadow of some substance that accumulates to measurable depth, can be blown about by the wind and reveal hidden secrets of elusive wildlife.
The stillness of a cold overcast day can foretell the coming of December’s white shadow, soon to arrive. The first flakes drift slowly to earth as the shadow begins to appear. A single snow flake landed intact on my wool mitten, suspended on an errant fiber. The intricate artistry nature expressed in this one crystal represented the beauty of uncountable trillions more. The hidden beauty, however, is often lost as the shadow deepens.
Falling snow covered me and my canoe as I sought safe harbor in a narrow slush filled stream bordered by high banks. The canoe was stabilized in the slush and I felt comfortable adjusting my gear to warm my hands. As I sat hunched over the snow began to build, essentially hiding me within its shadow. Suddenly a large male mink came loping through the deep snow, intent on crossing the small stream. My snow-covered boat must have been a welcome bridge to avoid the icy water. Just as the mink, now four feet away, was about to jump into my boat, he suddenly caught my scent and retreated into a nearby groundhog den. This was a unique situation, where I saw what happened and then in hindsight, was able to read the story the tracks left in the snow. It was like being at the scene of an unfolding drama and later watching it in a news report.
Mink trail in the snow and tracks in the mud.
I followed fresh fox tracks one morning not realizing how fresh they were. With the wind in my favor and dressed in white coveralls, I walked along observing where the fox stopped to sit, waiting for sound or scent to betray the location of a mouse under the snow. Apparently, nothing materialized, as the fox continued on its original straight-line path, stopping again to listen for a scurrying mouse hiding deep within in December’s white shadow. Here at last were telltale signs the fox made an attempt to catch the elusive rodent.
From a sitting position, it shuffled its hind feet and leaped several feet ahead, going air born before landing and stomping around and stabbing its face into the deep snow. The absence of blood or fur suggested the effort was futile as the fox continued on, heading toward a large pile of tree branches deposited along the riverbank by a previous flood. I looked up from the tracks in the snow to see the fox a moment before it saw me. I had only a split second to react and get the camera focused. We were only thirty steps apart as I digitized the suspicious fox staring back at me. Neither of us moved for a long moment until the fox slowly turned, began to walk away and then stopped to pee. Perhaps she was expressing her displeasure at having her hunt disturbed and left her scent to reaffirm ownership of her home territory.
Fox tracks in the new snow with strands of straw colored grass bathed in the contrast of subtle light changes would make a fine Christmas card from the fox. The tracks convey a signed message that translates even to those who aren’t conversant in the language of ‘fox’.
December’s telltale shadow is an open book even the wind uses as a message board. Capable of producing destructive storms of biblical proportion, the wind shows its gentler side, using a single blade of grass to whimsically etch it thoughts in the snow.
December owns the darkest days of the year and when the moment of darkness is greatest, at the instant of the winter solstice, it gives birth to light as day length begins to increase. Light or dark, December’s shadow is not far behind, casting a trace of white.
Author Joe Mish has been running wild in New Jersey since childhood when he found ways to escape his mother’s watchful eyes. He continues to trek the swamps, rivers and thickets seeking to share, with the residents and visitors, all of the state’s natural beauty hidden within full view. To read more of his writing and view more of his gorgeous photographs visit Winter Bear Rising, his wordpress blog. Joe’s series “Nature on the Raritan, Hidden in Plain View” runs monthly as part of the LRWP “Voices of the Watershed” series. Writing and photos used with permission from the author.
