The Reliable Shad

Blooming shad, daybreak

Unconcerned by this year's social confinements the shad trees are maintaining the congenial rhythm of the natural world in May.

Great Blue Heron

Their blossoming assures us of spring's progress as reliably as any calendar or thermometer.

Two species of shad

At least five native species of shad have made their way back to various niches at Halibut Point State Park since the disruptive periods of agriculture and industry. They are pioneering vegetative restoration over the granite grout piles.

Gulls feeding on little fish in the brook at Folly Cove

Shad trees take their name from the shad fish, or alewives that leave the salty ocean to spawn far upstream in fresh water rivers and brooks, at just the time when shad flowers appear. Fisheries ecologist Eric Hutchins of Rockport assures me that the Folly Cove brook and hinterlands are too small to support alewives, so the fingerlings that appeared here are likely a type of tiny smelt with a similar migration pattern.

One of the Herring Gulls devouring a "bait fish"

For several days in the first week of May loons and cormorants as well as gulls congregated for a feast at the head of the Cove.

Brown Thrasher

Shad trees provide convenient roosting for birds returning from southern wintering grounds.

Common Grackle

Their pure white flowers lend dazzling clarity to some birds' otherwise unremarkable plumage.

Fallen petals

Early in the month our region experienced a polar vortex. As temperatures plunged into the thirties under dismal skies I received a message, "Can you believe it's snowing?" A relentless wind was blowing flakes of shad blossoms past the window.

Northern Parula warbler

The season righted itself. Trees held some of their blossoms, insects emerged to feed on tender leaves, and spring migrants arrived on shad cue.

Shad beside the quarry

Fortunately I have no more to do with this than opening my eyes.