Stewart Farm, Sugar Hill & Easton, conserved with ACT.

Solstice and Solitude

We conserve land for many reasons. This fall we completed three projects of particular importance to bats. Bats are an essential part of the natural system that supports human endeavors like farming. And two of our projects this fall are former farms, and the owners hope that these lands with highly productive soils will someday again support livestock or grow food.

The Solstice reminds of us other reasons we conserve land we love.  Though of different origins, solstice and solitude each contains sol. Sol (sun) + stit (stopped) = solstice. Solus (alone) = solitude. We are privileged to live in a place where we’re never far from land that offers the chance to be alone, to enjoy solitude. Places that invite us to open our minds and our hearts, widen our view, feel the enormity of life outside ourselves and scale down our own preoccupations.

Whether it is a mountaintop or a quiet forest or a windblown field, we are offered the invitation to just be, be present with all our senses. To unhook from the electronic din and chatter of our daily routines. There are precious few of these places left, and looking out years and decades from now, one can imagine more and more people seeking and needing these places, the last sane places.

In this season take a moment to look up at the night sky, at the glittering spray of the Milky Way, at dazzling Jupiter, and feel presence of the looming mountains, the sharpness of the air, hear the call of a barred owl or howl of a coyote and perhaps no human sounds at all, just the whispering of the woods, and listen for your heart, feel your own heart beating.

Keep Growing: Sowing the Seeds of Our Local Food Movement is a free public event at the Colonial Theater in Bethlehem, N.H. on Sunday Aug. 7 from 5 – 7 p.m. Watch the short film, Ladies of the Land, about four women whose career changes into farming change their lives. Participate in a panel discussion about local food and agriculture in our region, and enjoy locally grown and prepared light far courtesy of the Littleton Food Coop and Meadowstone Farm. For more on Keep Growing, visit the Web site www.keepgrowingnhvt.org.

Here’s Meadowstone Farm manager Sam Brown and chef Jenny Johnson talking about what might be served at the Keep Growing kick off.

Early Saturday morning May 21 some local folks headed over to the Wedick Nature Reserve in Bethlehem, N.H., to enjoy a morning walk birding and enjoying the remains of a glacial lake. The drizzle didn’t keep the strong hearted away from this wonderful opportunity.

We started off near Wedick gravel pit entrance on Wing Road, which is ACT protected land. The group, led by ACT director Rebecca Brown, moved through the gravel pit. After we moved away from the road we stood around listening to the bird songs, counting the different birds we could hear. After about six birds I lost track, but the group shared the same observations.

As we moved further away from the road, the landscape changed. The habitat in and around the gravel pit was a mixture of new low tree growth and some wetland adapted plant species. When birding it is important to take notice to the type of habitat one is looking at. Many bird species look and sound very similar, especially if you’re like me, so just having an idea of where bird species occur is very important.

Looking for spring warblers.

Birds, warblers especially, are small, but have huge voices. So on this day we saw only glimpses of yellow feathers every so often up in the treetops and a flash as a bird flew by. With the help of Rebecca and Ginny Jeffryes we identified birds by song. The chestnut-sided warbler, a Nashville warbler, a phoebe, purple finch, and winter wren along with ravens and crows were some of the birds that graced us that damp morning.

We were pleasantly surprised to discover a cluster of pink lady slippers, an orchid native to New Hampshire, in the most unlikely place along one of the gravel pit access roads. More fun surprises were newly winged damselflies, assorted moths, and fresh bear prints!

The bear prints were small suggesting a young bear and we know they are fresh because the rain did not affect them that the area experienced the previous night and that morning.

A fresh bear print shows up clearly in the fine glacial till.

All in all, the morning was beautiful and the wildlife was plentiful. We just needed to stand around and be still to hear and notice all that this wonderful place in Bethlehem had to offer.

Courtney Bowler will start her senior year at the University of New Hampshire this fall. She lives in Littleton. 

By Rebecca Brown

Like many people, when I first heard about the Northern Pass transmission line proposal I performed a quick mental calculation of pros and cons. Pro: renewable energy. Con: huge towers going through my front yard. My initial conclusion: we’ve all got to sacrifice or at least compromise a little to get “green” power, because it’s for the greater good. I’d live with the towers.

I was wrong.

It is clear to me now that the Northern Pass project is wrong for the North Country, wrong for New Hampshire, wrong for the economy, and wrong for the environment. And no alternatives or mitigation will make it right. In terms of public benefits, technology, economy, and public policy, this project simply does not add up.

It is now well known (from PSNH itself) that New Hampshire does not need this power from Hydro-Québec. The consumers who could use it are in southern New England. These consumers could very likely include Vermont, if the Vermont Yankee nuclear power plant shuts down, which Gov. Shumlin is determined to do.

There are good reasons to locate new power generation facilities and transmission lines closer to where the power is needed. One is to cut down on the significant line losses incurred by transmitting electricity over long distances. A second is energy security – systems of smaller facilities located closer to consumers are less vulnerable to failure from natural and human disturbances (ice storms, hurricanes, terrorists) than one big one far away. A third is to make clearer to southern New England the impact of new power generation and transmission. Consumers should understand the connection between how they get their power and its effect on their environment.

Perhaps most important, Northern Pass does not represent a public initiative, where presumably a broader spectrum of interests would be reflected and balanced for the public good. It is a private, corporate project to increase market share. The greatest beneficiary of this project (after Hydro-Québec) is Public Service of New Hampshire and its parent, Northeast Utilities, which are private, shareholder-owned companies.  PSNH has been losing market share for years. It is a failing corporation. Northern Pass represents a last gasp effort to boost its revenues, at the expense of our region. Northern Pass is like a private toll road cut through the heart of the North Country – a toll road with no exits and no on ramps, and no local benefits. We would not receive the power, and we could not use the lines to export any power generated locally.

Indeed, Northern Pass would completely unplug any incentive for producing biomass energy locally. Biomass plants are already teetering on shutting down. These plants employ real people, using wood chips transported by real truckers, from trees cut by real loggers, in forests marked by real foresters, on land owned by people who need a financial return in order to manage their forests for the long term.  In return, Northern Pass predicts temporary construction jobs, with no guarantee that even that hiring is local.

Northern Pass is dangling financial incentives for local communities. For cash-strapped towns and taxpayers, this may appear an enticing carrot. But long term, these transmission lines are sure to cost towns and taxpayers far more than increased revenue provided upfront. The tax losses from severely diminished property values, the real estate sales and investment in new or improved homes that will not take place, plus the ripple effect of these losses in economic activity, is likely to far exceed additional municipal revenues from the power lines, especially as their value depreciates.

That the first appearance of financial gain may be deceiving is clear to towns affected by the Northern Pass. In a survey, select boards reported consistent and grave concerns about negative impacts in categories from future job creation and economic development, to town budgets, to wildlife and water resources. And earlier this month, resolutions opposing Northern Pass were approved – most unanimously – at every town meeting where the issue was on the warrant.

Finally, Northern Pass represents yesterday’s technology trying to solve tomorrow’s needs.  Many energy experts describe a host of innovations in use now, coming to market, or in design that significantly improve the efficiency and lessen the environmental impact of electricity generation, transmission, and use. It is likely that within a few decades, these enormous towers will be relics of a bygone era. Yet their scar on our landscape will remain.

So what if we buried the lines – maybe in railroad rights-of-way, or along I-93, or even down the Connecticut River – all which have been floated as potential alternatives to the towers?  The environmental impact of burying is unknown – it could exceed that of the aerial lines. Even if it were known, burying sidesteps the main issue – is this power line necessary or desirable for New Hampshire?

I’m glad I checked my initial “math” on this project as more information became available, and I urge New Hampshire and federal policymakers to do the same.  I trust they will reach the same logical and sane conclusion: that Northern Pass does not provide public benefit sufficient to outweigh the enormous costs to our land, people, economy, and future.

Rebecca Brown lives in Sugar Hill. She is executive director of the Ammonoosuc Conservation Trust, the regional land conservancy for the North Country.

We observe ACT’s Herbert G. Whipple Farm Conservation property over our back stone wall, and  I thought it might be useful for ACT to get a report of what we see, a sort of ” State of the Farm” report.

Most days there is evidence of one or more people walking in the field. This is based on the tracks we see in the snow in winter and some tracks in soft earth and visual sightings in the other seasons. As a conservative estimate I would say 500 person visits a year, but perhaps more than that. The commemorative bench at a view point in the field is well used.

The ecology of the field seems to be holding up well although the invasive plants dogbane and lupine are increasing in some areas.  From what I understand our only hope is to encourage native plants as removal or herbicide application has significant dangers and is often ineffective.
It took some experimentation with mowing regimes, but the 2009 mowing seems to be a successful approach. It is late enough to spare the ground nesting birds and supply several species with the bountiful blueberries, and early enough to impact the woody plants and other invasives such as dogbane and lupine. It could be a little earlier, perhaps the end of August to affect the invasives more. The mowing seemed well done this year.

Wildlife are doing well.  wild turkey, black bear and white-tailed deer are attracted to blueberries and the wild apple trees and moose are seen occasionally.  Coyote and red fox are rarely seen but leave tracks regularly.  We have two or sometimes three woodcock displaying in the field in spring and snipe are common.  There is a nesting pair of bobolinks.  Butterflies continue to be common in the field.
We need to continue the good work of clearing blown down trees to allow for mowing of the field, and at some point it will be necessary to cut or trim some of the trees on the field margins and the tree islands in the field if the field is not to shrink in size. Perhaps we should consider a clean up day as an activity for ACT members this next summer or fall before mowing.

An interesting development is that due to beaver activity on the little pond at the north edge of the property the shoreline of the pond is moving outward and I believe now has passed some of the property boundary so the Whipple Farm now has waterfront if you will! Someday we might be able to make a short boardwalk and viewing bench on the pond.

Tim Williams and his wife Janet live adjacent to the Herbert G. Whipple Farm Conservation Area in Sugar Hill. They were instrumental in the community effort that raised the funds to purchase this land for permanent conservation. This ACT-owned land is open to all – please visit!

American toad (Bofu americanus)

Some people say that up here in the North Country we don’t have enough to do .  . . or maybe the long winter makes us a bit addled. From some perspectives, both may be true. All I can say is that when the first warm, rainy nights of spring get here, there are some of us who go out after dark armed with flashlights looking on the roads for one of the most wonderful signs of spring: the salamanders, and the frogs. (You can do the same thing driving around in your car but the amphibian mortality rate can get pretty high.)

One night this week a large female toad crouched in our driveway, looking like she’d just dug her way out of the ground. Her eyes were still covered with the protective lids and she barely moved, as it was chilly. I moved her off the driveway and a little while later when I got back from walking the dogs noted that her eyes were open.

The toad was really early (look for them later in May and June). Spotted salamanders are typically the first amphibians to emerge from their winter torpor. They live in holes, often made by other animals like chipmunks, under the leaf litter and well out of sight. On the first rainy night over 42 degrees F, the salamanders start creeping toward their home vernal pools. Vernal pools are the pockets of water, some the size of small ponds, some no bigger than puddles, which fill in the spring and dry up by summer – hence no fish to feed on eggs and tadpoles – and are the breeding place for a variety of amphibians. The salamanders gather together in orgiastic balls – at least this is what I’m told. I’ve found individual salamanders on the roads, but never seen the real action in the pools.

These are not your average under-the-rock salamanders, either.  They are long: – 6 – 8 inches – and hefty. Jet black with yellow spots. You can’t miss them – if you can find them. Despite their size and apparent proclivity to gather in writhing groups on one “big night,” they are not easily found.

The frogs are a lot easier. The wood frogs (“croakers”) come out first – they were out on the roads the last couple of rainy nights, also on their way to their vernal pools. They wear a black mask, and are up to a couple of inches long. Their hoarse, not-so-melodic croaks, or quacks, are heard on warm afternoons and then all night. In fact, they are croaking outside our office at The Rocks in Bethlehem right now. You can see them floating on ponds and vernal pools for the next couple of weeks.

As early as tomorrow – and maybe some places tonight –  the spring peepers will show up. Within a few warm days their  unmistakeable piercing calls will fill the air. Walk close to their pond and they’ll all fall silent, for as long as they can stand it – which is not long – and then one and the next and then whole male community starts calling again. These frogs are tiny – about the length of your thumb nail. Compared to the salamander they are really hard to spot – but at least you know they are there. Happy spring!

Last evening I attended a session sponsored by the Connecticut River Joint Commission, whose job it is to study the Connecticut River, to hear the science behind river protection. The study of rivers is called Fluvial Geomorphology and by the end of the evening I  had a new appreciation for the scientists that spend their lives studying the rivers. The fundamentals of river behavior and the general principles of fluvial geomorphology are sedimentation, hydraulics, restoration, fish habitat improvement, riparian grazing management, and streambank erosion. Problem solving techniques for watershed management, riparian assessment, fish habitat structure evaluation, stream restoration, non-point source pollution and the integration of ecosystem concepts into watershed management are the outcomes of this kind of serious study.

As you can well imagine, it turns out that water will make its own path regardless of how man has tried to train  or confine it to new barriers. The ripple effect of changing the flow of water at one point works its way back to the point of original tampering. It has been estimated that over one third of the Connecticut River’s 85 mile stretch from Pittsburg, NH to Dalton, NH has been manipulated by man. In the 1800’s, when logging was the primary industry, the river was straightened to prevent log jams. Water powered mills popped up to take advantage of no cost power. The railroads also played a part in moving the water’s course to reduce the cost of building bridges over meandering streams.

Slowly, over time, the river has worked to regain control over its original path. Seems we could all take a lesson from the fluvial geomorphologists. Let’s get with the flow and stop operating our lives from a place of fear, shake it up, let’s have some fun!