Nature Corner: Why Is the Middle of the Lake So Rough?
by Wendy Oellers-Fulmer, 7/28/2026
One day this past week, the lake looked wonderfully calm, so we headed out in our 16-foot aluminum boat. The ride was smooth as we left shore, but as we reached the middle of the lake, the water changed dramatically. Whitecaps surrounded us, and what had begun as a peaceful outing quickly became a very bumpy ride.
It made us wonder: How could the water be so calm just a half-mile from shore, yet so rough in the middle? The answer lies in how wind behaves over open water.
In the middle of a lake, the wind has a long, uninterrupted stretch of water, known as a fetch, over which to blow. Like an airplane needing a long runway to build speed, the wind has room to transfer more and more energy into the water, creating larger waves. Because there are no trees, hills, or buildings to slow it down, the wind often reaches its greatest strength over open water.
Near the shoreline, the opposite happens. Trees, hills, and buildings reduce the wind’s speed before it reaches the water, limiting the energy available to build waves. Sheltered coves are naturally protected from the strongest winds, and the shallower water near shore also slows waves as they begin to drag along the lake bottom, reducing both their height and speed.
The next time you’re standing on a quiet shoreline watching whitecaps farther out, you’ll know the lake isn’t playing tricks on you. It’s simply the fascinating interaction between wind, water, and the landscape that surrounds it. There’s a rock farther out on our lake crowned by an American flag. Next time we head out, we’ll be watching to see whether it’s waving proudly in the wind—offering a clue to the conditions ahead—or resting quietly, waiting for the next breeze to bring it to life.
Nature Corner: The Forest’s Flute Player – The Hermit Thrush
by Wendy Oellers-Fulmer, 7/21/2026
Hermit Thrush (Catharus guttatus)
Order: Passeriformes
Family: Turdidae
During our frequent hikes through the woods, one of our favorite sounds is the ethereal, flute-like song of the Hermit Thrush. While the haunting call of the Common Loon is often associated with our northern lakes, the Hermit Thrush provides the beautiful soundtrack of the forest, its clear notes drifting through boreal, deciduous, and mountain woodlands.
Slightly smaller than an American Robin, the Hermit Thrush has warm brown upperparts, a softly spotted breast, and a distinctive reddish tail. It can often be often found foraging along woodland trails and forest openings, hopping across the leaf litter in search of insects, berries, and other small foods, even small salamanders.
The Hermit Thrush is the hardiest of North America’s five native thrush species. Compared to the Veery, Swainson’s Thrush, Gray-cheeked Thrush, and Bicknell’s Thrush, it arrives earlier in spring, departs later in autumn, and often spends the winter farther north, with many birds overwintering in the southern United States.
One surprising difference across North America is where they build their nests. In the western United States and Canada, Hermit Thrushes typically nest in conifers or shrubs. East of the Rocky Mountains, however, they usually build their nests on or very near the ground. Once the young hatch, both parents share the responsibility of feeding and caring for the nestlings.
The Hermit Thrush can be difficult to spot with its camouflage coloring, but it’s distinctive song is memorable, one of forest’s greatest treasure.
Nature Corner: Loonlets
by Wendy Oellers-Fulmer, 7/14/2026
Last week, while observing and photographing a loon parent with two tiny chicks riding on its back, I became concerned when one of the chicks suddenly disappeared beneath the water. Minutes passed, and to my dismay, it still hadn’t resurfaced.
The second chick remained resting quietly on its parent’s back, but then I noticed the loon seemed just a bit “lopsided.” About ten minutes later, the missing chick emerged from beneath its parent’s wing and climbed back onto its back. I quickly realized it hadn’t disappeared at all—it had simply been snuggled safely under its parent’s wing.
Curious about this behavior, I did a little research and learned that young loon chicks frequently climb onto their parents’ backs and tuck beneath their wings to receive essential warmth and protection from harsh weather and predators such as large fish, snapping turtles, and eagles.
For the first two to three weeks of their lives, loon chicks spend much of their time riding this way. It’s one more remarkable reminder of the devotion these parents show as they protect and nurture their young during those vulnerable early days.
Nature Corner: A Mountain in Maine
by Wendy Oellers-Fulmer, 7/7/2026
This is Mount Kineo. It is a mountain, formed in the middle of Moosehead Lake. Moosehead Lake is 38 miles long and in some sections, twenty miles wide. It has over 55 islands, most of which are inhabitable.
Mount Kineo is a peninsula and had an important role for the Native Americans in this area. It was a source of flint for their tools and arrowheads which they used for their own purposes and also for trading. They have found samples of their work all the way to New Mexico.