Wow, just a few short days later, we have much more to report. In the great stock market of the forest, ferns are up.

So, too, are the starflowers.

At Wompatuck State Park, where the eastern hemlocks are under assault by the woolly adelgid, Japanese, or Halloween Ladybugs are on the case.

At Daniel Webster Wildlife Sanctuary, what you are seeing is real.

Canada geese now have Canada goslings.

A muskrat enjoyed a morning bath.

And today, on the 22nd birthday of the observation blinds overlooking the wet panne, a lesser yellowlegs found plenty to eat. Does anything beat spring?

It’s spring! It’s spring! It’s SPRING! That means that it’s the season for turtle stacking…

…using as many turtles as you like.

‘Tis the season when garter snakes emerge.

And when turtles, even teeny tiny turtles, cross the road.

‘Tis the season when tree swallows return.

And when brown-headed cowbirds start scoping out potential nesting sites – in other birds’ nests.

‘Tis the season, too, when vesper sparrows pass through. (Can you find it?)…

…and Wilson’s snipes share just a few of their hours with us before heading even farther north (Can you find them?).

And, ’tis the season when just about anything can happen, like a cattle egret landing right here in Marshfield. Happy spring! Get out there and enjoy it.

For some of us, 50 degrees is just still too cold.

We get that. But we also know that unless we get out and enjoy winter, we’ll never truly enjoy spring.

And there are seasonal transitions you can actually watch, like when your favorite Iceland gull transforms from juvenile to adult right before your eyes. (Sigh)…they grow up so fast.

Then, before you know it, your Canada geese are no longer alone.

Before you know it, phoebes are back.

Soon, the sun rises earlier.

Red-tailed hawks stop looking so puffy, and can focus on breakfast.

Farmers take to their fields.

And before you know it, the first Palm warbler has arrived. See? All it takes is patience, and a little old-fashioned New England faith. Welcome spring!

You're looking at a projected half of Scituate's municipal lighting bill, right there.

Well, look at that, right across the North River. Finally, all those weeks of wondering just when the new wind turbine in Scituate would be up are over.

A stinky way of saying "spring is almost here."

But the turbine’s not the only thing that popped up this week. Skunk cabbage poked out of the wet ground at the base of the hill at the North River Wildlife Sanctuary.

And mama salamander was right there, too.

In those same woods we found some red-backed salamander eggs, yet another sign that spring is at least thinking about making an appearance.

A common sight on our winter beaches south of Boston.

Out on Duxbury Beach, the dunlin are still holding court, keeping the mud primarily to themselves.

What a winter for snowy owls...

They’re just lucky the resident snowy owl is more into the grasslands than the mud. Soon, though, neither will care too much what’s happening on the South Shore of Boston.

It’s been an odd one, that’s for sure. There’s no counting how many backs have been saved this winter, how many heart attacks averted, due to a lack of snow.

A tufted titmouse, hiding in a bush with lunch.

The birding has been good, somewhat odd as well. The typical feeder birds, like titmice and chickadees, have been around all season without a break.

Bluebirds in winter! Who'da thunk it.

Bluebirds have been prevalent on the South Shore.

The much-maligned mallard...

Ponds have mostly remained open, meaning mallards have had room to roam.

If you think they're awkward in the water, you should see them on the land.

In one pond in Plymouth, American coots have been sharing the water with…

…muskrats…

A face only a mother could love. Well, us too.

…and begging mute swans.

A visitor from afar?

But nature is always willing to give you a tweak. We found this great cormorant off the Glades in Scituate today, wearing the breeding plumage of an Old World cormorant. Who knows what travels he’s seen! Snow tomorrow? Bah! Bring it on! We’re game to go out and see what’s going on.

Bob's exciting find, "HK."

I know him as Ranger Bob, but that goes back to our week in Montana together. To most people he’s just Bob, the only Bob who doesn’t need a last name. Great guy.

HK, it seems, is a local.

Bob’s in Florida right now, walking the beaches, finding surprises, like this banded American oystercatcher.

Bob and HK will now forever be linked.

He e-mailed me, and I re-routed his information to people in the know. What did we find out? This oystercatcher was banded right here in Massachusetts, at Chilmark Pond on Martha’s Vineyard, June 2009. “HK,” as it’s now known, was re-sighted on Longboat Key (where Bob is now) in October 2009 and was reported from Manatee County in August 2010. There was no 2011 report.

So nice to see so many red knots, considering the problems they've had.

As if that wasn’t enough, the next day Bob reported several banded red knots from the same beach, and sent those pictures our way. A different set of researchers had their say.

A little zoom, a little crop, and the identity of "RC4" comes to light.

It’s all about citizen science. Single reports like Bob’s can send ripples, sometimes shockwaves, through the ornithology research world. Keep those reports coming, Bob, or I’ll start telling Montana stories you don’t want people to know!

"Hey!"
"What?"
"Get your binoculars and get in the car!"

This has happened before, of course. The first time was seven years ago and the end result was a Thick-billed Murre in Scituate Harbor. The second time was two years ago and it was an Allen's Hummingbird, also in Scituate. This time it was a Red-headed Woodpecker - oddly enough also in Scituate. See? It pays to go to work on Mondays. Especially in Scituate.

First stop, Skaneateles. That's "skinny-atlas" for those of you who are not from the Finger Lakes area.

Then, on our four-day Finger Lakes adventure, it was onto Cayuga Lake and the many historic towns along the way. This factory pond in Union Springs never fails. This year it was wood ducks that caught our attention.

Early on day two, this year, we visited the Cornell Lab of Ornithology for a behind-the-scenes tour with Sean Scanlon, Director of Development.

Sean showed us, among other oddities, a drawer full of Ivory-billed Woodpeckers, now extinct.

Outdoors, on the trails of Sapsucker Woods, we ran into the work of artist Andy Goldsworthy…

…beautiful foliage…

…and memories of the breeding season just passed.

Despite chilly temperatures…

…and heavy winds, shown here at Stewart Park in downtown Ithaca, we birded on.

Buttermilk Falls was as spectacular as usual…

…and Taughannock Falls didn't disappoint either.

Some of us danced to Bob and Myrna Melnyk's Polka Magic Band while tasting dry reislings at the Thirsty Owl Wine Company.

And on the final day, we delved into Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge, where thousands of Snow Geese, dozens of Tundra Swans, 3 Sandhill Cranes and thousands of ducks entertained us all. Amazed by waterfalls, delighted by wine and wowed by waterfowl, we headed for home. Why does every trip have to end that way?

The rain didn't help, but we knew it would end. Of course, we're not leopard frogs, so we shouldn't speak for everybody.

But when we're looking to run a nature photography class, we'd at least like to be able to see…well, anything.

That first day, we tried to make something out of something a little more than nothing.

But, ah, then came Saturday, and a trip to Boulder Beach. We lined ourselves up for the shots before the sun came up.

When it did, it was spectacular.

The cliffs, one of the highest points on the eastern seaboard, turn pink when the sun hits them just right in the morning.

We wandered in search of other images, in the land where the forest meets the rocks that meet the sea.

We found orange jellies, an acquired taste for photographers, but no-brainers for mushroom-minded naturalists.

We sought other sights around the island, like at the harbor at Bernard, were we tried to see life as the locals do.

Guillemots fed in the shallow areas, quickly diving and resurfacing with their catches.

At sundown, we got into the Halloween spirit.

When the sun rose on the third day, we were among the first to see it, from the top of Cadillac Mountain.

We were not alone.

We retreated to Eagle Lake to find beaver lodges…

…and recent beaver damage.

A flight of passing thrushes caught our fancy…

…but soon it was time to walk back down the Carriage Roads and head for home. But we had had our just desserts! In all, a wonderful weekend at Acadia.

 
First stop on Block Island? Southeast Light. And it's not just for the history.There were southeast winds. Peregrine falcons dangle in the air at the lighthouse, on Mohegan Bluffs, when those conditions are right. They did not disappoint that day.

 
Unfortunately, there were signs of more erosion in the area, the kind that pushed the lighthouse back to its current location in 1993. Bank swallow nests are a good thing – for bank swallows. For us, it's a sign of recent natural destruction.

 
Elsewhere on the island, life was good. The fish were jumping at Sachem Pond…

 
…the groundsel was in bloom…

 
…and Rebecca continued to stand firm in her conviction that temperance is a good thing.

 
Thicket owners threw open their gates to warblers and birders alike.

 
A red-eyed vireo struck a window at the Coast Guard station, but shook it off and was doing fine when we left.

 
No matter where we looked, fall was peeking through.

 
And soon we ran out of time. By the time the ferry whistle blew, we had seen about 100 species of birds, but not nearly as much of the island as we had wanted.

 
Sigh…there's always next year. We'll be back. The Block bug has bitten us all.