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The rising, Full Snow or Full Hunger Moon, February, 2012 Phippsburg, Maine
The rising, Full Snow or Full Hunger Moon, February, 2012 Phippsburg, Maine
Corona around the February full moon with reflection across Totman Cove, 2012
This is how the corona is created by moonlight.
Bubo scandiacus
The Snowy owl is also called the Ghost Owl, Tundra Ghost, Ookpik or Uppik ((Inuit of Alaska), and White Terror of the North. I have my own name for the Snowy owl, "Avis provocateur."
Photographed at Maine Audubon Society program on owls 2009
The Algonquin, a Native American tribe from what is now the northern and eastern United States, gave distinctive names to each of the recurring full moons. They did this partially to keep track of the seasons. The January full moon was called the Wolf Moon. Outside of Indian villages, packs of hungry wolves howled at the moon while roving on the cold snow pack. Some tribes called the January moon the Full Snow Moon, but most reserved this for the following moon.
The heaviest snow usually falls in February, so our second full moon of the year was called the Full Snow Moon. Harsh weather made hunting very difficult, so some tribes called this the Full Hunger Moon. It sends a chill through me when I imagine what that must have meant for people living so close to the earth. To see the full moon ringed with color must have been especially terrifying.A halo or corona around the full moon is an uncommon sight. It can only happen, at most, twelve times a year. Of those twelve times, conditions have to be just right. The effect occurs when rays of sunlight (moon light is reflected sunlight) pass through water in the form of ice crystals or droplets in clouds preceding a weather front. Native Americans would have known that it meant foul weather coming, too. They would have been able to speculate how long before the snow fell by how many stars were visible between the colored ring and the moon.
In addition to fear, full moons are traditionally associated with insomnia and insanity, hence the word lunatic. When I worked in hospitals, especially on the third shift, we steeled ourselves for anticipated droves of patients coming into the emergency room. Sometimes this panned out, but often a full moon shift would just be one more, dull, long night. Scientific studies do not support that there is any more craziness taking place on the planet on full moon nights than any other.
I can say that this January and February I have been driven a little crazy, full moon or not. January boasted one of the greatest shows of Northern Lights on the planet, yet I did not catch one bit of it. I tried. Many nights, I stayed up or got up from bed and went outside to check, freezing my keister off. Like a hungry wolf, I stalked the night sky for the Aurora Borealis to no avail. Then, clouds rolled in for days obliterating any chance of it or a sighting of the full, Wolf Moon.
Toward the end of January and now, into February, the birding internet has been ablaze with chatter about the greatest irruption of Snowy owls in all of ornithology history. Newspapers and television have carried pieces. Even Joe Average, non-birder knows about the irruption of Snowys by now.
In addition to outstanding numbers of reports of Snowy owls, we have had a remarkably mild winter. Warm temperature records have been broken all over the place. We’ve barely had any snow, either. Joe Average has been overheard to say that the reason the owls are here is because it’s been so warm.
But, probably the real reason is because the owls’ food source crashed. In the northern most reaches of the planet, the owls eat mostly small rodents called lemmings. It’s likely that the rodent population plummeted due to disease as a cyclic event. The Snowy owls may have had a really good nesting year, too. More owls with less available food means packing up and heading south for food. But, I have another theory: The elusive Aurora Borealis and the Snowy owls have all come from the north to drive me crazy. Science may not bear out that the full moon provokes insanity, but I can tell you that personally, it does.
In my life, I have seen two Snowy owls in the wild. Both times were nearly forty years ago. Each time, I was driving at night through snow storms and alone. Like apparitions, the birds appeared from the darkness and flew in front of my car. Illuminated by the headlights, they looked other worldly, like great, winged ghosts. I was startled and though the car’s heater was blasting, a chill went through me. I was at once filled with wonderment. The spectral birds bewitched me; I’d seen something magical and was hooked forever.
Four decades later, I’m still hungry for the sight of an ethereal Snowy owl. Escalating reports of the birds ferociously stokes my appetite, too! There have been reports of at least five Snowy owls within ten miles of here. Three different birds have been reported on Popham Beach. That’s so close I can hear the surf from my house.
I have made many frantic trips over there to find the birds. I’ve staggered out of bed before sunrise, nauseous and haggard, but focused. With neither hair nor teeth brushed, my bloodshot eyes swimming like stewed tomatoes in buttermilk, I’ve raced to beat the sunrise to the beach. I’ve hoped to catch the birds starting their morning hunt, but the only one hunting has been me. No less maddening than the dead end trips is to then read on the birding internet that yet another one has been spotted by some other birder within mere miles. It's left me sleepless and dreaming of Snowy owls. It has, indeed been my Full Hunger Moon!
Our largest, North American owl, the Snowy stands two feet tall with wings that spread six feet! They are fantastic hunters and are regarded by some as symbolic of bravery. Because they can see in the dark, the Snowy owl of legend is believed to help people to see truths.
If not brave in my pursuit of this phantasmagorical bird, I am persistent. I share with the owl that I will do what it takes and go where I must to feed my needs. And the truth is, that though sometimes frustrated, I will continue look to the sky for shooting stars, ribbons and rings of light and amazing birds.
For more on the irruption of Snowy owls in the United States, check out this link:





Salon.com
Comments
Love your photography!
~R~
Owls are the most successful of all raptors. They see in the daytime as well as eagles do in the daytime, which is about 10x better than a 20/20 sighted person. At night, they generally can see 8x better at night than a person can in the daylight.
Being kicked out of the nest is a phrase that is most commonly associated with owls. Most owl young literally have to be kicked out of the nest to fend for themselves. Typically they will sit there, at the base of the tree, who-ing to be picked up and let in -- even though by now they are capable of flight! Until they get really hungry. They'll decide to go get something to eat, start flying and once that occurs, they'll become independant.
Cool huh?
As to your sighting woes, allow me this as a suggestion:
1) Get out a paper map and some push pins. If you have different colors, great.
2) Use different colors to track the progress of the sightings during different weeks.
3) If you have access to historical (for this migration, clearly) data, you should be able to get an idea of two things:
3A) How far the owls are migrating each week; and/or
3B) Where their favorite sites are.
4) You should now be ready to go find some Snowy Owls.
Wear good camoflage clothing if you have access to it. They see really well, remember, you'll be spotted a good ways off and most owls are pretty skittish around people. The camoflage will help reduce your "peoplish" look, especially if you take care to remain as quiet as possible and move very slowly, keeping cover between you and the owls. I would include some form of head covering that is also camoflage, the head/shoulders area is the most distinctive part of a human outline.
Bring a nice (though not heavy) pair of binoculars. If they can see you from far away, don't you think you should have the same advantage? I carry them with me most of the time.
It's worth it if you can catch just one Snowy Owl on camera.
I loved those Moonrise Photos. Good luck in your quest to get a photograph of a Snowy Owl. I'll put a good hoot in for you with my kinfolk.
--r--
I have a little owl who greets me with a swoop each night as I come into the lane to the house. Just a blur of wings, an impression of friendly guardianship.
Good luck with Snowy Owl! I have seen one, like you, many years ago, and have never forgotten. Have seen a number of great horned owls in the wee hours of cold February nights. They are cool, but not quite the spectacle that is a snowy. Who cooks for you?!
That you are reading about the one I didn't get, "the one that got away" if I were a fisherman telling stories, gives me strength and will to continue on. Now THERE'S drama!
R♥
"bloodshot eyes swimming like stewed tomatoes in buttermilk". Love it.
Missed seeing and reading your work.
http://open.salon.com/blog/alsoknownas/2012/02/06/a_rare_migration_snowy_owls
and
http://open.salon.com/blog/alsoknownas/2011/06/28/sun_halo