Massachusetts’ Quiet Wildlife Spectacle- the Herring Run

“Close‑up of river herring packed together as they swim upstream through shallow, rippling water during the Massachusetts herring run.”


The Herring Run in Massachusetts: Spring’s Quiet Wildlife Spectacle

Every spring in Massachusetts, something ancient stirs beneath the surface of our rivers. As the water warms, thousands of river herring — alewives and blueback herring — return from the Atlantic to the exact freshwater streams where they were born. This annual migration, known simply as the herring run, is one of New England’s most reliable signs that winter is finally loosening its grip.

It’s a small miracle that happens in plain sight, and once you know it’s happening, you start to notice the subtle excitement in the air: the gulls gathering, the osprey circling, the water suddenly alive with silver flashes.


What Exactly Is a Herring Run?

River herring are diadromous fish, meaning they split their lives between saltwater and freshwater. They hatch in ponds and streams, spend their early months growing there, then head out to sea. After several years in the Atlantic, instinct pulls them back home to spawn the next generation.

Massachusetts sees two species:

  • Alewife (early spring)
  • Blueback herring (late spring)

The run typically begins in late March or early April and peaks through mid‑May, depending on water temperature.


Why the Herring Run Matters

The run isn’t just a quirky local event — it’s a cornerstone of the coastal ecosystem. River herring are a crucial food source for:

  • Osprey
  • Herons
  • Striped bass
  • Bluefish
  • Seals
  • River otters
  • And now, increasingly, bald eagles

When the herring return, everything else wakes up too. It’s the ecological equivalent of turning the lights back on after winter.


🦅 Bald Eagles and the Herring Run

One of the most exciting changes in recent years has been the return of bald eagles to southeastern Massachusetts. After disappearing from the state for decades, they’ve made a dramatic comeback thanks to conservation efforts — and the herring run is one of the seasonal events that draws them in.

During the run, eagles:

  • perch in tall riverside trees
  • watch for slowed or struggling fish
  • swoop down to grab herring near the surface
  • occasionally steal fish from gulls (which the gulls do not appreciate)

Seeing an eagle over the river in April has become one of those “I can’t believe this is Massachusetts” moments.


A Tale of Two Coasts: Herring Run vs. Salmon Run

If you’ve ever watched the dramatic salmon runs in Alaska or the Pacific Northwest — the leaping fish, the roaring rivers, the bears lined up like they’re at a sushi conveyor belt — you might assume the herring run is the same thing on a smaller scale.

It is similar… but also wonderfully different.

🐻 Pacific Northwest: Bears

Salmon runs attract grizzlies who stand in the river and casually pluck salmon out of the air. It’s peak nature‑documentary energy.

🕊️ New England: Seagulls

Here?
We get seagulls. Loud, pushy, unapologetic seagulls.
They’re not majestic, but they are extremely committed to the drama.

It’s less “National Geographic” and more “local gossip at the river.”

💀 Salmon die after spawning — herring don’t

Pacific salmon make one heroic, exhausting journey upstream and then die, feeding the ecosystem.

River herring?
They spawn, shake it off, and head back to sea. They can repeat the trip several times over their lifespan.

📏 Scale: Epic vs. Intimate

Salmon runs can look like the river is made of fish.
Herring runs are quieter — thousands, not millions — and concentrated at fish ladders and narrow channels. You can stand a few feet away and watch individual fish make their climb.

🗓️ Timing

  • Herring: early spring
  • Salmon: late summer into fall

So while the Pacific Northwest is gearing up for berry season and bears, we’re pulling on light jackets and heading to the fish ladder with coffee.


Do People Eat River Herring?

Historically, yes — they were smoked, salted, pickled, and even used as fertilizer. But today, harvesting river herring is banned in Massachusetts due to population declines.

So the only ones feasting during the run are:

  • gulls
  • osprey
  • herons
  • bald eagles
  • stripers waiting downstream

It’s a wildlife buffet, not a human one.


Where to See the Herring Run

Some of the best spots in Massachusetts include:

  • Oliver Mill Park, Middleboro — one of the most popular and photogenic
  • Mystic River & Mystic Lakes Dam, Medford
  • Parker River, Newbury
  • Town Brook, Plymouth

Each has fish ladders, viewing platforms, and plenty of opportunities for photos.

I’ve been watching the herring run for years, and every spring it feels like the river wakes up all at once. The gulls start screaming, the water churns, and suddenly you realize winter is officially over.


 

National Pet Day

 

Pets bring us joy and companionship. They help prevent loneliness. My buddies Banner amd Balboa


Happy National Pet Day

National Pet Day deserves every bit of celebration it gets. Anyone who has ever shared their life with an animal—whether you call yourself an owner, guardian, or humble staff member—knows how deeply a creature can enrich your world.

 

Why the Day Matters

Pets support us in ways both seen and unseen. Research shows they can reduce stress, lower blood pressure, improve cardiovascular health, and ease loneliness. They nudge us into routines, movement, and connection. And beyond the science, they strengthen our compassion and remind us what unconditional love looks like.

All Creatures, Great and Small

Most people picture dogs and cats when they think of pets, but the definition has stretched right along with our hearts. People adore everything from mice and lizards to pot‑bellied pigs—yes, including the famously named “Crispy Bacon.” Others bond with horses, donkeys, cows, even elephants through sanctuary or zoo programs.

I grew up with horses myself and had a bond with one that still sits in my memory like sunlight. These days, though, I’m firmly in my cat era. I support the Animal Rescue Site, and back when I lived in Randolph, I cared for a feral colony of abandoned cats. It was messy, meaningful work, and it taught me a lot about resilience and trust.

What Pets Give Us

Pets bring joy, companionship, and a sense of purpose. They comfort, guide, and support us—sometimes officially as service or emotional‑support animals, sometimes simply by curling up beside us and purring like a tiny engine of reassurance.

Banner and Balboa, of course, believe every day is Pet Day. They’re not wrong. But it’s nice to have one day set aside to honor the furry, feathered, and scaled friends who make our lives fuller.

Happy National Pet Day to all who love and are loved by an animal.

Color Me Wild: The Brilliant Plumage of a Wood Duck

In honor of National Wildlife Week, I’m sharing one of the most colorful birds in North America — the stunning wood duck.

Wood Duck Wildlife Photography Spotlight

Wood duck standing near a tree with iridescent green, purple, and chestnut plumage — National Wildlife Week photo.

Protecting wildlife begins with appreciating the beauty right in front of us.

Razorbills of Bolungarvík, Iceland

 

A Morning Surprise: The Razorbill Pair

I absolutely love this picture. Yesterday I mentioned how I’ve been very visual lately, and here’s another example of what I mean. Each morning when I log onto my computer, I never know what visual treat might be waiting for me. My wallpaper rotates every couple of days—sometimes it’s a misty bridge, other times a fierce tiger mid-prowl. The photography is always stunning. I envy the talent behind these shots. It’s the kind of artistry I once dreamed of mastering.

But today, I want to spotlight one image in particular: a pair of razorbills standing close together on a rocky ledge by the sea.

Texture, Contrast, and Connection

It’s not that razorbills are the most elegant birds. Their plumage is simple—dark brown above, white below—but this photo captures something extraordinary. The contrast is brilliant. The clarity is so sharp I can almost feel the downy softness of their feathers and trace the texture of their chocolate-brown heads. The white bellies pop against the deep blue of the ocean, and the whole composition feels like a masterclass in natural lighting and framing.

A Quiet Moment of Devotion

What really gets me, though, is the sentiment. These birds aren’t just standing side by side—they’re touching heads, mirroring each other in a way that feels tender and intentional. There’s a quiet devotion in their posture, a kind of avian intimacy that’s rare to catch on camera. It’s a reminder that beauty isn’t always loud or flashy. Sometimes it’s found in the stillness, in the connection, in the way two creatures simply exist together.

This picture has it all—texture, color, emotion. And I’m so glad it found its way to my screen.

 

Turkey Talk

🦃 Why Are Domestic Turkeys White?

A Totally Serious Interview with Two Turkeys

Reporter: Welcome to Turkey Talk Live! Today we’re asking the burning question: why are domestic turkeys white while wild turkeys strut around in earthy browns and blacks? Let’s hear it straight from the birds themselves.


Domestic Turkey (fluffing feathers):

“Listen, I didn’t choose this look. Humans bred me this way. Apparently, white feathers make me look ‘cleaner’ once I’m… you know… processed. Dark pinfeathers are like having spinach stuck in your teeth—nobody wants to see that on the holiday table. So voilà, I’m the snow‑white centerpiece. Fashion? Nah. It’s all about marketing.”

 


Wild Turkey (adjusting camo plumage):

“Meanwhile, I’m rocking these rich browns and blacks because I actually need to survive. Ever tried hiding from coyotes in a white feather coat? Forget it. My colors help me blend into the forest floor. I’m basically the ninja of the turkey world. Domestic cousin here couldn’t camouflage in a mud puddle if it tried.”


Domestic Turkey (sighing):

“True. I can’t fly well, I’ve lost most of my wild instincts, and honestly, if you dropped me in the woods, I’d probably ask for Wi‑Fi. But hey, I’m great at sitting still and looking plump, basically the couch potato of the poultry world. Humans love that.”


Wild Turkey (smirking):

“And I love not being dinner. So while you’re busy auditioning for the Thanksgiving table, I’ll be over here blending in with the leaves.”


Reporter’s Wrap‑Up

Domestic turkeys are white because humans bred them for a cleaner, more marketable look. Wild turkeys are dark because nature bred them for survival. One is hiding from predators, the other is hiding from gravy. It’s just the result of centuries of humans saying, “Hmm, this bird would look better if it matched the tablecloth.”