Outdoors

Whippoorwills were once common throughout the woods of Southampton and East Hampton, especially in Wainscott, which is the center of the South Fork’s oak and pitch pine forest.

Gold is alluring to just about anyone and will always be categorized as a very precious metal, valued at its market price on the commodities trading floor. Gold is golden. It’s a given. 

Another week, another step toward summer. Sunday was pleasant, and I took a ride into Wainscott south of East Hampton Airport and explored the woods and shoulders, hoping for a lupine or two. I did find several wildflowers blooming, but not a single lupine, nor the remnants of any bird’s-foot violets, which would have been blooming several weeks ago.

When it comes to the weather, I sometimes think that the Nobel Laureate Bob Dylan summed it up just right: “You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.” It is famously featured in his song “Subterranean Homesick Blues.” While Dylan does not hold a degree in meteorology, it’s kind of hard to argue with the meaning of those simple lyrics he penned over 50 years ago.

Last week was a busy one on the South Fork. I received an email with a photo from Mariah Whitmore of a sandhill crane near Multi Aquaculture Systems on Napeague. I immediately informed Terry Sullivan and a few other birders. Terry went out to see shortly after and came back with more wonderful pictures of the crane. Readers of “Nature Notes” may recall reading about the last sandhill crane to visit the South Fork a few years ago, accompanied by Terry’s photo of it.

Accabonac Harbor in Springs and Northwest Creek in East Hampton will receive a new degree of scrutiny after an expansion of a water testing program run by Concerned Citizens of Montauk.

I have never had so many reports of grosbeaks in town in the 37 years or so I have been writing my column for The Star.

All of a sudden it’s hot and humid, the time when all hell breaks loose in nature: eagles feeding their chicks, spring peepers crawling out of the water to climb trees, alewives spawning.

There were bobwhites around throughout my youth on the North Fork, but today, on the South Fork too, you almost never hear their telltale call.

It is Monday evening. The Memorial Day weekend is over. The weather was grand. At noon traffic was streaming west past my house on Noyac Road at a rate of 961 vehicles per hour, presumably most of them were returning home to spots west of the South Fork. I took a ride around after 4 to parts east, mostly in East Hampton.

Fishing is sometimes a gamble. Some days you are the hero, and the next outing you can be found sulking and wondering where the fish went. There are never any guarantees when you drop a baited hook and line. Fish markets make their livelihood this way.

For those entering a tournament, whether it be for a tiny flounder or a giant bluefin tuna nearing 1,000 pounds, the competition can be intense no matter the quarry at hand. And with that, a number of tournaments adorn the upcoming calendar for those seeking not only a tasty dinner, but a little extra cash in the pocket.

Striped bass have been running plentiful of late in the Peconics. A nice slug of fish, feasting on an abundance of menhaden, also known as bunker, has made catching a keeper-size fish a rather easy accomplishment.