First Visit to the Cape

The first spring visit to Cape St. Mary's always reminds me what a wonderful and varied place this is. Known primarily as a nesting site for thousands of northern gannets, it also provides a feeding ground for bald eagles and ravens, typical habitat for savannah sparrows and horned larks, and forms part of the range of the southern Avalon caribou herd.

I arrived in the early morning and started down the trail from the visitor centre; visible even from this distance, a juvenile bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) was circling high above the cove, the sun highlighting its mottled colours.

Another few minutes of walking brought me to the main point near Bird Rock, the centre of the gannet (Morus bassanus) nesting area.  This point overlooks the rock, and in another month it will be possible to spot the first of the year's chicks, guarded by their protective parents. Now, though, it's only adult birds that are visible, soaring overheard or returning to the nesting sites with seaweed or twine for nest repairs.

Returning along the trail, I heard the unmistakable trill of a savannah sparrow (Passerculus sandwichensis) from just ahead. There it was, perched on one of the stakes that mark the trail.

The day's real treat, though, came in the form of a handful of caribou (Rangifer tarandus) trotting across the Eastern Hyper-oceanic Barrens. They were a hundred metres away, and seemed unconcerned at my presence. They'll soon begin to shed their pale winter coats, taking on a darker, sleeker look for summer. It will be fascinating to watch the changes that take place here at the Cape between now and October.

Where Eagles Soar

There are few feelings quite like looking skyward and catching a glimpse of the broad, straight wings of a bald eagle high overhead(Haliaeetus leucocephalus). These strikingly beautiful and majestic birds of prey are relatively common around the coasts and waterways of Newfoundland and Labrador; they're well suited to life here, since appropriately enough they fish for a living. They can be spotted waiting patiently in trees or on

rocky outcrops, scanning for the flash of a fish moving through the water near the surface, then swooping low, flaring wings and tail to apply the brakes, and striking quickly. The resulting prize may be devoured right away at a favourite spot nearby, or carried back to a huge, unkempt-looking nest to feed recently hatched young.

During the winter months, they tend to congregate where there is open water or another readily available food source; in the

St. John's area, that means Quidi Vidi Lake with its ready selection of ducks and huge aggregation of gulls. Both adults and juveniles can be found here, like these two youngsters scuffling just above the ice of the lake. The return of summer means the birds are more widely spread across the landscape, since food is more readily available in open water. Keep an eye to the sky, and you just might catch sight of one of Newfoundland and Labrador's resident bald eagles.

The Road Less Traveled

Many (sometimes I think a few too many) years ago, my high school English teacher, Mary Wille, assigned a Robert Frost poem as a memorization exercise for our modern poetry class:

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost


At the time I didn't have any idea how deeply I would take those words to heart. After nearly thirty years exploring the winding byways of Atlantic Canada, though, it's become clear that roads less

travelled by have become my first choice. It's these roads that allow for breathing space; for stopping and smelling the wild roses or walking a woodland trail beside a crystal waterfall or watching an osprey hover and plummet in pursuit of a fat mackerel. These roads lead to small communities or to broad expanses of unsettled country, to forests and barrens and bogs and meadows where moose or deer graze, and to lakes or coves where eagles soar high above -- where bears sometimes amble out of the shadows in search of a mouthful of tender dandelions and

where wildflowers bloom in profusion, painting the landscape in purple and gold. They lead to places like Elliston, where abandoned root cellars, storage sites for houses that long ago have fallen into dust, create the look of a hobbit village and where a short walk leads to an Atlantic puffin colony that's ideally situated for viewing from land. They lead across eastern hyper-oceanic barrens where hundred-year-old trees rise a few inches in height, and where the only traffic doesn't pay much attention to roadsigns; the right-of-way belongs to the one with the antlers. These are the roads that reveal the

true character of this region; there's no pretense or putting on airs out here. I love exploring these out-of-the-way spots and visiting much-loved places that keep calling me back, and I love sharing those sights and sounds and experiences with others who have the same capacity for delight and discovery. As the summer touring season begins in earnest and the summer's travellers begin their journeys, I'm looking forward to every adventure-filled mile of it!

Exploring on the South Shore

Wednesday dawned bright and clear with promise of record-high temperatures -- alarming from an environmental point of view but subversively attractive in the lean, cold, hungry month of March. It was definitely time for a road trip. I set out for Kejimkujik National Park's Seaside Adjunct at Port Joli. The area was set aside in 1988 to preserve a large section of Nova Scotia's coastal barrens; it consists of spruce and fir forests and bogs where orchids like Dragon's Mouth(Arethusa bulbosa) and Grass Pink (Calapogon tuberosus) and carnivorous Pitcher

plants (Sarracenia purpurea) can be found alongside the trail. A beautiful crescent-shaped beach of sparkling white sand lies approximately 2.2 km from the parking lot, accessible by a well-maintained walking trail. It was a beautiful day for the walk, with the temperature near 31° and sunny skies. The park is not yet officially open for the season, but the main trail to the beach was open; the longer, more scenic route, however, remains closed.

After my visit to the Seaside Adjunct I headed back toward the southwest, then turned down the

road along the east side of the Sable River to Jones Harbour, where two lobster boats were tied up at the wharf while another unloaded its newly caught lobsters into a car or storage unit floating just offshore. A bit of movement over the water caught my eye as I turned to the left, and I was delighted to see an adult bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) take flight from a low ledge. It flew low over the water toward the shore, then angled sharply upward to land in the top branches of a bare tree -- next to another adult, which I hadn't noticed before. The two were almost certainly a mated pair, since these birds tend to be very territorial during breeding season. After a quick word of thanks to the eagles for making my day, it was time to hit the road for Shag Harbour. What a great way to spend a beautiful day in sou'west Nova Scotia!