I sometimes visit a back corner of a cow pasture about a mile south of New Holland, Pennsylvania where water from a food processing plant is discharged into a small tributary of Mill Creek. Today, September 29, I stopped at that meadow of short grass for about two hours to see what life forms were evident. There was plenty because of the time of year. Insects are most evident now, birds are migrating, plant growth has reached its climax and many plants are still blooming with multitudes of beautiful flowers. So even this meadow, that is grazed by cattle and has little protective vegetation in it, was interesting to visit because of the abundance of plants and small creatures that have adapted to it and were visible to me. I enjoy the challenge of finding adaptable life in habitats that have been degraded by human activities to experience what life forms survived what we have done.
The dominant flowers in that meadow today were lots yellow ones on bur-marigolds that have gone past their peak of blooming in a couple of damp ditches. And there were many white or pale-lavender aster blossoms, depending on the species, in a ditch and scattered around the meadow. Those beautiful, little aster flowers were swarming with a variety of insects, some in abundance.
There were many cabbage white, yellow sulphur and pearl crescent butterflies fluttering incessantly among the aster blooms to sip nectar. Cabbage whites and yellow sulphurs are the most common kinds of butterflies in this area all summer and into autumn. Pearl crescents are abundant among asters because their larvae eat aster plants and pupate in the ground among them. When adult pearl crescents emerge, the innumerable aster flowers are readily available to them.
Other insects on the aster blossoms to get nectar were buckeye butterflies, bumble bees, yellow jackets and some kind of wasp. Buckeyes have several fake "eyes" on all four wings that scare off would-be predators.
Several other kinds of flowering plants were still blooming in this meadow, including red clover and smartweeds with pink blossoms, knotweeds, chicory that have blue flowers and lots of corydalis with small, yellow blooms. The smartweeds and knotweeds just began blooming, but the other species have been flowering since summer.
There were other plants of interest in this pasture. Arrowhead plants emerged from the shallow water of the brook's edges. Japanese hops vines sprawled across the ground here and there. A couple of bur cucumber vines ran along the railing of a small bridge over the tributary. A few cockle bur plants grew in the damp soil and had several thorny seed pods that will stick on animal fur, which will scatter the seeds inside when the animals pull the burs from their fur. And I saw a few orange fuzzy caterpillars eating the short grass they were on along the brook. Those caterpillars will pupate to a type of moth.
The small, shallow brook also had life in it, which to me indicates that the food processing plant in New Holland cleans its waste water before discharging it into this brook that immediately flows into Mill Creek. Mixed schools of banded killifish and black-nosed dace live in the discharge. Several bluet damselflies and a few of some kind of red damselfly were spawning eggs on mats of algae in the back waters of the brook. Some of those eggs will be food for the schools of minnows.
Several kinds of birds were in this meadow. A couple of killdeer plovers trotted about in the short grass while looking for invertebrates to eat. Two least sandpipers, which are about the size of sparrows, walked over mud flats on the tributary's shores to get invertebrates. Those sandpipers had nested on the Arctic tundra and are now migrating south to escape the northern winter.
One large tree in the pasture and two small, half-dead ones sheltered a few species of birds, including a pair of eastern bluebirds, a group of house finches, an American goldfinch, a song sparrow, two northern flickers and an immature eastern phoebe, which is a kind of flycatcher. The phoebe was a migrant that stopped in the meadow to rest and catch flying insects before continuing south. Phoebes rear young on flat surfaces under protective boulders or roofs near streams in deciduous woods so this youngster was out of his normal habitat.
Two large birds visited this pasture. One was a young great blue heron that was catching grasshoppers in the grass and among the bur-marigolds and asters. The other was an immature bald eagle that soared low overhead as it watched for muskrats, ducks and larger fish to eat.
This meadow looks like it would not harbor much life. But it does, in abundance. But it is all adaptable, common species of plants and wildlife, particularly small critters that can make use of the limited vegetation in this pasture. And there are many other places scattered around the world that are like this one.
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Monday, September 28, 2015
Unexpected Migrants, Two
In the afternoon of September 27th, I again drove by that one-acre pasture that was about one quarter flooded and discussed in my blog article, "Unexpected Migrants". I was there about a half hour on the 27th and noticed that the populations of creatures there shifted in just a few days, which regularly happens during times of migrations.
A few twelve-spotted dragonflies were still skimming low over the water for flying insects to eat, and now there were about 20 lesser yellowlegs wading in the shallow water after invertebrates, which is an increase in their numbers from a few days ago. The least sandpipers, apparently, were gone but about a three dozen killdeer plovers waded the shallows to get invertebrates. And I noticed about a dozen migrant tree swallows hawking rapidly about 20 feet above the water and meadow to catch flying insects. Occasional flocks of these striking swallows have been passing through Lancaster County, Pennsylvania on their way south since around the middle of August.
While I was watching that partly inundated pasture, a half dozen steers walked into the pool, scaring the yellowlegs and killdeer into swift flight on swept-back, powerful wings. The long-legged yellowlegs formed a small group and circled the water a few times before settling into it again away from the cattle. A few of the killdeer also dropped to the shallows, but most of them flew across a country road and landed in a 20-acre, bare ground field that recently had been harvested of corn and cultivated, perhaps for a crop of winter rye.
Killdeer have adapted to living and nesting inland, on bare ground fields, gravel parking lots and similar, human-made habitats. They, their eggs and young are camouflaged on such exposed niches, which protects them from predators.
The killdeer, being brown on top, seemed to disappear the instant they touched down on the bare ground of the field across the road from the pasture. Happy to see a gathering of so many killdeer, I scanned the field with my 16 power binoculars to better see them, and to learn if any other creatures were on that denuded soil. There were!
As I scanned the harvested and cultivated field, I spotted a stately golden plover in winter plumage among the killdeer plover, then another golden and another. After searching that field for a few minutes, I saw six handsome golden plovers in winter plumage, which is brown mostly, with dark and yellow markings. They, too, were well camouflaged on the soil as they reached down here and there to pick up invertebrates from it.
Golden plovers nest on the treeless Arctic tundra of Alaska and Canada and spend the northern winter on the grassy pampas of southern South America. Many of them stop on bare ground fields, recently harvested hay fields, sod farms, golf courses and short-grass meadows through much of the Lower 48 United States. There they consume lots of invertebrates for the next part of their migrations south.
All those creatures, except some of the killdeer, were migrants passing through Lancaster County on their way farther south. Migrants add spice to a nature lover's life because many of them come from far away and will spend the winter, or summer, in some distant land. They are nature's ambassadors.
A few twelve-spotted dragonflies were still skimming low over the water for flying insects to eat, and now there were about 20 lesser yellowlegs wading in the shallow water after invertebrates, which is an increase in their numbers from a few days ago. The least sandpipers, apparently, were gone but about a three dozen killdeer plovers waded the shallows to get invertebrates. And I noticed about a dozen migrant tree swallows hawking rapidly about 20 feet above the water and meadow to catch flying insects. Occasional flocks of these striking swallows have been passing through Lancaster County, Pennsylvania on their way south since around the middle of August.
While I was watching that partly inundated pasture, a half dozen steers walked into the pool, scaring the yellowlegs and killdeer into swift flight on swept-back, powerful wings. The long-legged yellowlegs formed a small group and circled the water a few times before settling into it again away from the cattle. A few of the killdeer also dropped to the shallows, but most of them flew across a country road and landed in a 20-acre, bare ground field that recently had been harvested of corn and cultivated, perhaps for a crop of winter rye.
Killdeer have adapted to living and nesting inland, on bare ground fields, gravel parking lots and similar, human-made habitats. They, their eggs and young are camouflaged on such exposed niches, which protects them from predators.
The killdeer, being brown on top, seemed to disappear the instant they touched down on the bare ground of the field across the road from the pasture. Happy to see a gathering of so many killdeer, I scanned the field with my 16 power binoculars to better see them, and to learn if any other creatures were on that denuded soil. There were!
As I scanned the harvested and cultivated field, I spotted a stately golden plover in winter plumage among the killdeer plover, then another golden and another. After searching that field for a few minutes, I saw six handsome golden plovers in winter plumage, which is brown mostly, with dark and yellow markings. They, too, were well camouflaged on the soil as they reached down here and there to pick up invertebrates from it.
Golden plovers nest on the treeless Arctic tundra of Alaska and Canada and spend the northern winter on the grassy pampas of southern South America. Many of them stop on bare ground fields, recently harvested hay fields, sod farms, golf courses and short-grass meadows through much of the Lower 48 United States. There they consume lots of invertebrates for the next part of their migrations south.
All those creatures, except some of the killdeer, were migrants passing through Lancaster County on their way farther south. Migrants add spice to a nature lover's life because many of them come from far away and will spend the winter, or summer, in some distant land. They are nature's ambassadors.
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Some Local Autumn Bugs
We often tend to call insects "bugs", but there is an order of insects, among the many orders of insects, that really are true bugs. Here in the Middle Atlantic States there are two common species of seed bugs and one abundant kind of plant bugs, all of which are somewhat similar. All three of these attractive and interesting species are about the same size, have flat, oval bodies and similar colors and color patterns that make all of them attractive. The seed bugs include the large milkweed bugs and small eastern milkweed bugs. And eastern box elder bugs are the common plant bugs.
Large milkweed bugs and small eastern milkweed bugs both eat the maturing and mature seeds of milkweeds in milkweed pods. These species must be competitors for the same foods in the same open, sunny habitats, including meadows, fields and roadsides, in most of the United States. Direct rivalry for food like this is unusual in nature. Perhaps these two bug species have a way of reducing competition for food that I'm not aware of.
Many times I have seen little groups of both kinds of seed bugs on milkweed seed pods during summer and into autumn in this area over the years. The adults of these two milkweed bug species are red and black on top and have nearly similar patterns of colors. Large milkweed bugs are four-eighth to five-eighth of an inch long while the smaller one is three-eighth to four-eighth of an inch long. Both kinds lay eggs on growing milkweed plants and the resulting bugs live in groups on and in milkweed pods where the seeds develop. Both species have one or more generations each year, depending on the latitude where they live. Bugs in The South will have more generations than those in the north. And the adults of the last generation of the year overwinter and emerge the next spring ready to lay eggs.
The nymphs of these seed bugs are different in appearance, however. The young of the large species are orange-red with black legs and antennae. The offspring of the small kind resemble the adults, except in size.
Eastern box elder bugs live in deciduous woods along creeks and feed on the sap of box elder trees, also known as ash-leafed maple trees. Ash-leafed maples thrive best on bottomlands along waterways in most of the eastern half of the United States.
When nights get cold in October in the local area, I see thousands of fertilized female box elder bugs in masses here and there on rock outcroppings, stonewalls, the walls of buildings, around holes in trees and fence posts, and anywhere else they can find protective recesses to pass the coming winter in relative safety. Most people don't want these insect swarms on the outside walls of their houses, though box elder bugs never bite or sting, or eat anything through winter, therefore causing no damage.
Box elder bugs are three-eighth to five-eighth of an inch long and red and dark on top, with color patterns a little different than those on seed bugs. Their nymphs are red, but add black to their coloring as they grow. Females lay eggs in crevices on the bark of trees and there are one or two generations of this bug every year.
These seed bugs and box elder bugs are attractive, harmless to us and, actually, rather interesting. Watch for them this fall and succeeding summers and autumns.
Large milkweed bugs and small eastern milkweed bugs both eat the maturing and mature seeds of milkweeds in milkweed pods. These species must be competitors for the same foods in the same open, sunny habitats, including meadows, fields and roadsides, in most of the United States. Direct rivalry for food like this is unusual in nature. Perhaps these two bug species have a way of reducing competition for food that I'm not aware of.
Many times I have seen little groups of both kinds of seed bugs on milkweed seed pods during summer and into autumn in this area over the years. The adults of these two milkweed bug species are red and black on top and have nearly similar patterns of colors. Large milkweed bugs are four-eighth to five-eighth of an inch long while the smaller one is three-eighth to four-eighth of an inch long. Both kinds lay eggs on growing milkweed plants and the resulting bugs live in groups on and in milkweed pods where the seeds develop. Both species have one or more generations each year, depending on the latitude where they live. Bugs in The South will have more generations than those in the north. And the adults of the last generation of the year overwinter and emerge the next spring ready to lay eggs.
The nymphs of these seed bugs are different in appearance, however. The young of the large species are orange-red with black legs and antennae. The offspring of the small kind resemble the adults, except in size.
Eastern box elder bugs live in deciduous woods along creeks and feed on the sap of box elder trees, also known as ash-leafed maple trees. Ash-leafed maples thrive best on bottomlands along waterways in most of the eastern half of the United States.
When nights get cold in October in the local area, I see thousands of fertilized female box elder bugs in masses here and there on rock outcroppings, stonewalls, the walls of buildings, around holes in trees and fence posts, and anywhere else they can find protective recesses to pass the coming winter in relative safety. Most people don't want these insect swarms on the outside walls of their houses, though box elder bugs never bite or sting, or eat anything through winter, therefore causing no damage.
Box elder bugs are three-eighth to five-eighth of an inch long and red and dark on top, with color patterns a little different than those on seed bugs. Their nymphs are red, but add black to their coloring as they grow. Females lay eggs in crevices on the bark of trees and there are one or two generations of this bug every year.
These seed bugs and box elder bugs are attractive, harmless to us and, actually, rather interesting. Watch for them this fall and succeeding summers and autumns.
Friday, September 25, 2015
Little Woods Birds
This morning, I stopped for about an hour in a deciduous woodland of maturing trees in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania to enjoy whatever of nature came my way. I soon noticed that small birds were seemingly everywhere in that woods, in the tree tops and middle layer, and on the forest floor. But they seldom were still for long, making it tough to identify them. Therefore, it was all the more exciting when I was able to identify some of those little birds. And as I would have expected, some of those species of birds were residents of the woods, while other kinds were migrants.
Several each of Carolina chickadees and tufted titmice were the first couple of species I was able to identify. These mostly-gray, woodland species are permanent residents locally. Both species were engaged in food-gathering while I was there, with some of the titmice foraging on the ground. And when I looked at the titmice with my 16 power binoculars, it seemed that they were storing seeds and other bits of food under the fallen leaves, presumably to eat during the coming winter. Not having seen that behavior before, I looked it up on the web, and, sure enough, there was reference to that storing behavior in tufted titmice, as with nuthatches, woodpeckers and blue jays. That exciting tidbit of information was new to me. That behavior, no doubt, saves bird lives.
There were other kinds of birds in those woods, including a few resident blue jays in the trees, and a gray catbird in a thicket; a catbird that didn't yet go south. A resident white-breasted nuthatch walked down a tree trunk head-first while looking for invertebrates and their eggs in crevices in the bark, and a resident downy woodpecker and resident red-bellied woodpecker pecked into dead wood of standing trees after invertebrates in the wood.
The jays were actively gathering acorns from oak trees and flying away with them to hide those nuts in tree cavities or little holes they dig into the soil. The jays, as they always are in their blue, black and white feathering, were beautiful as they repeatedly flew into and out of the oak trees.
The whole while I was seeing and identifying year-around birds in the woods, I was suspecting some of the birds in the trees were types of warblers and other kinds of small, migrating birds. At first I only saw locally living birds. But then I caught a glimpse of a small bird with a yellow head. Looking at it with binoculars, I saw it was a black-throated green warbler, a species that nests in the mixed coniferous/deciduous forests of Canada and the northeastern United States and was passing through here on migration. This striking bird, probably an adult male, had a dull-green back and a black throat.
Then I saw a beautiful male black-throated blue warbler halfway up a tree. This lovely, migrant bird had a blue-gray back, white belly and black flanks and throat. This species, too, breeds in mixed forests of Canada and the northeastern United States.
But the third kind of warbler I identified, my favorite bird of the day, was a black and white warbler that had alternate black and white stripes all over. This warbler, as does all its kin, walked up-side-sown on tree trunks and limbs, as a nuthatch does, as it looked for invertebrate food in cracks in the bark. This species nests on the fallen-leaf floors of deciduous forests in the eastern Untied States and southeastern Canada.
Black-throated green and black and white warblers spend the time of the northern winter in the comparative warmth of Mexico, the Caribbean, Central America and very northern South America. Black-throated blues winter in parts of Central America.
Warblers as a family of birds probably originated in Central America. Some species of them go north to raise young in less crowded forests, but return to their origin for the winter.
Look for birds wherever you may be, whenever you can. They are always interesting and beautiful, and we always learn something new about them.
Several each of Carolina chickadees and tufted titmice were the first couple of species I was able to identify. These mostly-gray, woodland species are permanent residents locally. Both species were engaged in food-gathering while I was there, with some of the titmice foraging on the ground. And when I looked at the titmice with my 16 power binoculars, it seemed that they were storing seeds and other bits of food under the fallen leaves, presumably to eat during the coming winter. Not having seen that behavior before, I looked it up on the web, and, sure enough, there was reference to that storing behavior in tufted titmice, as with nuthatches, woodpeckers and blue jays. That exciting tidbit of information was new to me. That behavior, no doubt, saves bird lives.
There were other kinds of birds in those woods, including a few resident blue jays in the trees, and a gray catbird in a thicket; a catbird that didn't yet go south. A resident white-breasted nuthatch walked down a tree trunk head-first while looking for invertebrates and their eggs in crevices in the bark, and a resident downy woodpecker and resident red-bellied woodpecker pecked into dead wood of standing trees after invertebrates in the wood.
The jays were actively gathering acorns from oak trees and flying away with them to hide those nuts in tree cavities or little holes they dig into the soil. The jays, as they always are in their blue, black and white feathering, were beautiful as they repeatedly flew into and out of the oak trees.
The whole while I was seeing and identifying year-around birds in the woods, I was suspecting some of the birds in the trees were types of warblers and other kinds of small, migrating birds. At first I only saw locally living birds. But then I caught a glimpse of a small bird with a yellow head. Looking at it with binoculars, I saw it was a black-throated green warbler, a species that nests in the mixed coniferous/deciduous forests of Canada and the northeastern United States and was passing through here on migration. This striking bird, probably an adult male, had a dull-green back and a black throat.
Then I saw a beautiful male black-throated blue warbler halfway up a tree. This lovely, migrant bird had a blue-gray back, white belly and black flanks and throat. This species, too, breeds in mixed forests of Canada and the northeastern United States.
But the third kind of warbler I identified, my favorite bird of the day, was a black and white warbler that had alternate black and white stripes all over. This warbler, as does all its kin, walked up-side-sown on tree trunks and limbs, as a nuthatch does, as it looked for invertebrate food in cracks in the bark. This species nests on the fallen-leaf floors of deciduous forests in the eastern Untied States and southeastern Canada.
Black-throated green and black and white warblers spend the time of the northern winter in the comparative warmth of Mexico, the Caribbean, Central America and very northern South America. Black-throated blues winter in parts of Central America.
Warblers as a family of birds probably originated in Central America. Some species of them go north to raise young in less crowded forests, but return to their origin for the winter.
Look for birds wherever you may be, whenever you can. They are always interesting and beautiful, and we always learn something new about them.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Autumn Roadside Flowers
Several kinds of flowering plants along country roadsides in southeastern Pennsylvania create beautiful bouquets of themselves during September and October. Those lovely, inspiring patches of wild flowers aren't everywhere along rural roads, but here and there in little communities of plants. And each community is unique in its composition of species from all others. But all those clumps of wild blooms are enjoyable and inspiring to see while traveling along country roads.
Many of these flowering species had bloomed in summer and continue to blossom in autumn, as long as the weather is relatively mild. Some of the taller plants include chicory with their sky-blue flowers, evening lynchis that have white flowers and evening primrose with yellow blooms. Honeysuckle vines have had sweet-smelling, beige or white blossoms all summer and into fall.
Some roadsides are mowed in summer. Then chicory and the other plants grow blossoms on short flower stems, completely their reproductive cycle in spite of adversity.
Red clover and bouncing bet that have pink blossoms and butter and eggs with yellow, snapdragon flowers grow close to the ground and live under the taller flowering plants along rural roads. The clover escaped from hay fields, and bouncing bet, like clover, is a native of Europe and is also called soapwort because its leaves can be crushed and whipped into a soapy lather. The name bouncing bet, according to legend, came from the sight of a well-endowed washerwoman busily washing clothing over a wash board.
Some of these plants only begin to bloom in autumn. Goldenrod with its many tiny, yellow blossoms begins to flower in August, but reaches a peak of blooming in fall. And goldenrod's associate flowers, the asters, bloom during September and reach a climax of flowering early in October. Some species of asters have deep-purple blooms, while other kinds have white or pale lavender ones. The species with deep-purple flowers, New York and New England asters, are planted on many local lawns for their lovely blossoms in September and October. And goldenrod and aster flowers are a couple of the last big sources of nectar for insects in autumn. Bees, smaller butterflies and other kinds of insects swarm over these plants in September and October.
Certain kinds of smartweeds with their pink flowers reach a zenith of blooming in October. Then certain roadsides are deep-pink with the many blooms of this species that dominate them.
Wild morning glory vines only bloom in autumn. Their flowers are purple, pink, white or blue, sometimes all those colors along the same country roadsides, creating striking medleys. Morning glory flowers are large and showy, dominating many rural roads.
Look for these lovely, autumn-blooming flowers when out for a walk or drive. They are enjoyable and inspiring.
Many of these flowering species had bloomed in summer and continue to blossom in autumn, as long as the weather is relatively mild. Some of the taller plants include chicory with their sky-blue flowers, evening lynchis that have white flowers and evening primrose with yellow blooms. Honeysuckle vines have had sweet-smelling, beige or white blossoms all summer and into fall.
Some roadsides are mowed in summer. Then chicory and the other plants grow blossoms on short flower stems, completely their reproductive cycle in spite of adversity.
Red clover and bouncing bet that have pink blossoms and butter and eggs with yellow, snapdragon flowers grow close to the ground and live under the taller flowering plants along rural roads. The clover escaped from hay fields, and bouncing bet, like clover, is a native of Europe and is also called soapwort because its leaves can be crushed and whipped into a soapy lather. The name bouncing bet, according to legend, came from the sight of a well-endowed washerwoman busily washing clothing over a wash board.
Some of these plants only begin to bloom in autumn. Goldenrod with its many tiny, yellow blossoms begins to flower in August, but reaches a peak of blooming in fall. And goldenrod's associate flowers, the asters, bloom during September and reach a climax of flowering early in October. Some species of asters have deep-purple blooms, while other kinds have white or pale lavender ones. The species with deep-purple flowers, New York and New England asters, are planted on many local lawns for their lovely blossoms in September and October. And goldenrod and aster flowers are a couple of the last big sources of nectar for insects in autumn. Bees, smaller butterflies and other kinds of insects swarm over these plants in September and October.
Certain kinds of smartweeds with their pink flowers reach a zenith of blooming in October. Then certain roadsides are deep-pink with the many blooms of this species that dominate them.
Wild morning glory vines only bloom in autumn. Their flowers are purple, pink, white or blue, sometimes all those colors along the same country roadsides, creating striking medleys. Morning glory flowers are large and showy, dominating many rural roads.
Look for these lovely, autumn-blooming flowers when out for a walk or drive. They are enjoyable and inspiring.
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Unexpected Migrants
This afternoon, September 23, 2015, I was driving through farmland in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania to do errands. I approached a one-acre, short-grass pasture that was nearly a quarter flooded. That spot had been flooded by local farmers in winter for ice skating. But why was that spot inundated now, and how? We have not had heavy or prolonged rain in a couple of weeks and no other meadows were flooded that had been in the past. But at any rate, this cropland pasture was partly covered with a few inches of water which attracted three kinds of migrants, one of them particularly interesting to me.
Nine lesser yellowlegs, that do have yellow legs, and about five least sandpipers, all migrants, waded through the short grass and shallow water to eat invertebrates, refueling for the next part of their journey to South America to escape the northern hemisphere winter. The brown, sparrow-sized least sandpipers walked in inch-deep water and pick invertebrates from the grass and water with their beaks. The grayish yellowlegs, being larger and having longer legs and bills, repeatedly jabbed at invertebrates in deeper water, thus reducing competition for food with their smaller relatives.
The yellowlegs nested in Canada and Alaska where the coniferous forests meet the treeless Arctic tundra, but the least sandpipers raised young on the tundra itself. Both species, and several other kinds of sandpipers, migrate south through North America from mid-July into early October, the majority along the seacoast, but many others through the continent's interior.
I see northbound sandpipers of several kinds on lake and stream shorelines, mud flats and flooded fields in Lancaster County every year in May. And I see southbound sandpipers of those same species here during July, August and September. So these sandpipers are not new locally, but they are still neat to see, considering where they came from. And I had not seen many this summer or fall because of the lack of rain flooding fields and pastures, though I did see a few sandpipers on the shorelines of impoundments with lower water levels.
But several twelve-spotted skimmer dragonflies were the main attraction in that flooded meadow during the half-hour I visited it. Those dragonflies, true to their name, rapidly skimmed low over the water in pursuit of flying insects to eat. They were attractive insects with two-inch bodies, three-inch wing spans and three dark spots on each wing. Three spots on each of four wings per dragonfly gives this dashing creature its common name. Each wing also had white spots between the dark ones.
Twelve-spotted skimmers are migratory along the Atlantic Coast, and these dragonflies certainly may have been migrants. They'll live in The South through winter, reproduce in ponds there, and their descendants, after pupating, will venture north in spring.
Migration is one of the ways wildlife copes with approaching winter to survive. And certain kinds of birds and insects migrate annually.
Those migrant sandpipers and dragonflies were interesting to experience today. One never knows what nature can be spotted until one gets outside. Often nature is noticed and enjoyed when it is least expected.
Nine lesser yellowlegs, that do have yellow legs, and about five least sandpipers, all migrants, waded through the short grass and shallow water to eat invertebrates, refueling for the next part of their journey to South America to escape the northern hemisphere winter. The brown, sparrow-sized least sandpipers walked in inch-deep water and pick invertebrates from the grass and water with their beaks. The grayish yellowlegs, being larger and having longer legs and bills, repeatedly jabbed at invertebrates in deeper water, thus reducing competition for food with their smaller relatives.
The yellowlegs nested in Canada and Alaska where the coniferous forests meet the treeless Arctic tundra, but the least sandpipers raised young on the tundra itself. Both species, and several other kinds of sandpipers, migrate south through North America from mid-July into early October, the majority along the seacoast, but many others through the continent's interior.
I see northbound sandpipers of several kinds on lake and stream shorelines, mud flats and flooded fields in Lancaster County every year in May. And I see southbound sandpipers of those same species here during July, August and September. So these sandpipers are not new locally, but they are still neat to see, considering where they came from. And I had not seen many this summer or fall because of the lack of rain flooding fields and pastures, though I did see a few sandpipers on the shorelines of impoundments with lower water levels.
But several twelve-spotted skimmer dragonflies were the main attraction in that flooded meadow during the half-hour I visited it. Those dragonflies, true to their name, rapidly skimmed low over the water in pursuit of flying insects to eat. They were attractive insects with two-inch bodies, three-inch wing spans and three dark spots on each wing. Three spots on each of four wings per dragonfly gives this dashing creature its common name. Each wing also had white spots between the dark ones.
Twelve-spotted skimmers are migratory along the Atlantic Coast, and these dragonflies certainly may have been migrants. They'll live in The South through winter, reproduce in ponds there, and their descendants, after pupating, will venture north in spring.
Migration is one of the ways wildlife copes with approaching winter to survive. And certain kinds of birds and insects migrate annually.
Those migrant sandpipers and dragonflies were interesting to experience today. One never knows what nature can be spotted until one gets outside. Often nature is noticed and enjoyed when it is least expected.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Beauties of Goldenrods and Asters
Today, September 21, 2015, during a drive through Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland, I saw many patches, large and small, of Canada goldenrod that had infinite numbers of yellow flowers and a kind of wild aster with innumerable pale-lavender petals and light-yellow centers. The blossoms of both these plants were attractive.
The perennial goldenrod and aster plants both grow up to five feet tall and are, currently, at their peak of blooming, as they are every year about this time. The blooms of both species were pretty by themselves, but even more so when together in mixed clumps. They exhibited a nice blend of colors, and brightened the open habitats they bloomed in.
Both these kinds of tall plants grow best in open, sunny habitats, such as cow pastures and country roadsides, which are human-made environments. Therefore, both types of plants are common in southeastern Pennsylvania with its many croplands. They are two of several kinds of plants that have lovely blooms in open habitats here in autumn and sometimes rival the colors and beauties of fall foliage.
When meadows are not mowed or grazed, many of them become overgrown with a variety of tall, flowering plants that actually make those pastures more interesting and attractive. Goldenrod and asters are two of those flowering species.
Some stands of predominately goldenrod and asters have clumps of bushy-looking spotted jewelweeds with their orange flowers, and tall, decorative stands of cattails and phragmites mixed in with them. All that high plant growth provides shelter for a variety of birds and mammals, including raccoons, opossums, muskrats and white-tailed deer. Cattails, phragmites and jewelweeds indicate
moist soil.
Each Canada goldenrod plant has several "fingers" pointing in every direction, each one lined with many tiny, golden blooms. Digger wasps and other kinds of insects sip nectar from goldenrod blossoms on sunny, warm afternoons in fall.
Each aster plant has several small flowers on top. Honey bees, bumble bees, pearl crescent butterflies and other types of insects sip nectar from them.
Goldenrods and asters continue to bloom well into October, depending on the weather. During heavy frosts, however, the flowers die, but continue to perch on their tall plants. Their tiny seeds become food for field mice and a variety of seed-eating sparrows and finches during winter, creatures that add to the beauties and intrigues of these dead plants through that harshest of seasons. And some people use the dead seed heads of goldenrod and asters for attractive indoor decor in winter.
Get out and see the pretty flowers of goldenrods and asters. They are attractive, in themselves, and in the birds they attract to consume their seeds.
The perennial goldenrod and aster plants both grow up to five feet tall and are, currently, at their peak of blooming, as they are every year about this time. The blooms of both species were pretty by themselves, but even more so when together in mixed clumps. They exhibited a nice blend of colors, and brightened the open habitats they bloomed in.
Both these kinds of tall plants grow best in open, sunny habitats, such as cow pastures and country roadsides, which are human-made environments. Therefore, both types of plants are common in southeastern Pennsylvania with its many croplands. They are two of several kinds of plants that have lovely blooms in open habitats here in autumn and sometimes rival the colors and beauties of fall foliage.
When meadows are not mowed or grazed, many of them become overgrown with a variety of tall, flowering plants that actually make those pastures more interesting and attractive. Goldenrod and asters are two of those flowering species.
Some stands of predominately goldenrod and asters have clumps of bushy-looking spotted jewelweeds with their orange flowers, and tall, decorative stands of cattails and phragmites mixed in with them. All that high plant growth provides shelter for a variety of birds and mammals, including raccoons, opossums, muskrats and white-tailed deer. Cattails, phragmites and jewelweeds indicate
moist soil.
Each Canada goldenrod plant has several "fingers" pointing in every direction, each one lined with many tiny, golden blooms. Digger wasps and other kinds of insects sip nectar from goldenrod blossoms on sunny, warm afternoons in fall.
Each aster plant has several small flowers on top. Honey bees, bumble bees, pearl crescent butterflies and other types of insects sip nectar from them.
Goldenrods and asters continue to bloom well into October, depending on the weather. During heavy frosts, however, the flowers die, but continue to perch on their tall plants. Their tiny seeds become food for field mice and a variety of seed-eating sparrows and finches during winter, creatures that add to the beauties and intrigues of these dead plants through that harshest of seasons. And some people use the dead seed heads of goldenrod and asters for attractive indoor decor in winter.
Get out and see the pretty flowers of goldenrods and asters. They are attractive, in themselves, and in the birds they attract to consume their seeds.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Pearl Crescent Butterflies
Pearl crescent butterflies are one of my favorite kinds of butterflies because they are petite, active, attractive and abundant, particularly in autumn as part of that season's many colors and beauties. Pearl crescents have one and a half inch wing spans and their upper wings are basically orange with numerous chocolate markings. And each one has a white crescent-moon marking on the margin under each back wing which gives this species its common name.
But I think this butterfly's greatest beauty and notoriety is in its big numbers in patches of flowering asters in pastures and fields and along roadsides in the eastern two-thirds of the United States early in October. At that time, innumerable, five-foot-tall wild aster plants, each with many small, white flowers, bloom together in certain fields, making those human-made habitats look like snow fell only on them. And the tiny pearl crescents, plus other kinds of butterflies, and bees and other types of insects swarm over those innumerable aster blossoms. All those insects sipping nectar from aster blooms, and flying from blossom to blossom, are a lovely and interesting spectacle during the beauties and unique characteristics of autumn. They help make that pretty, intriguing season even more so.
But pearl crescents are tied to asters more than as adult butterflies sipping nectar from the flowers of those plants. Each female pearl crescent lays up to about 700 eggs on growing aster plants, which the resulting larvae eat. Each female has to be a bit of a botanist to know which plants to lay her eggs on to nourish her offspring.
There are three generations of pearl crescents each growing season. Each generation needs about six weeks to fulfill the four stages of complete metamorphosis, eggs, larvae, pupae and adults. The first is from about mid-April to the middle of June, the second around late June to mid-August, and the last one runs from late August to early November.
The caterpillars are brown with cross-wise rows of spines on their upper bodies, which protect them from birds and other would-be predators. Young larvae are gregarious, feeding in groups on aster plants. But those caterpillars spread out as they get older, which is good because they are also much bigger and need to fan out to other asters to get greater amounts of food. The last brood of caterpillars each year spends the winter in the ground, pupates there in the warmth of the next spring and emerges from the soil as mature butterflies around the middle of April. That first generation of adults for the year are ready to sip nectar from various kinds of early-flowering plants, mate and lay eggs to start the next generation of the year.
Pearl crescents are pretty, little butterflies that are most common in autumn after a couple of earlier broods, and most noticed, in abundance, on aster blossoms in October. They are a lovely part of autumn each year.
But I think this butterfly's greatest beauty and notoriety is in its big numbers in patches of flowering asters in pastures and fields and along roadsides in the eastern two-thirds of the United States early in October. At that time, innumerable, five-foot-tall wild aster plants, each with many small, white flowers, bloom together in certain fields, making those human-made habitats look like snow fell only on them. And the tiny pearl crescents, plus other kinds of butterflies, and bees and other types of insects swarm over those innumerable aster blossoms. All those insects sipping nectar from aster blooms, and flying from blossom to blossom, are a lovely and interesting spectacle during the beauties and unique characteristics of autumn. They help make that pretty, intriguing season even more so.
But pearl crescents are tied to asters more than as adult butterflies sipping nectar from the flowers of those plants. Each female pearl crescent lays up to about 700 eggs on growing aster plants, which the resulting larvae eat. Each female has to be a bit of a botanist to know which plants to lay her eggs on to nourish her offspring.
There are three generations of pearl crescents each growing season. Each generation needs about six weeks to fulfill the four stages of complete metamorphosis, eggs, larvae, pupae and adults. The first is from about mid-April to the middle of June, the second around late June to mid-August, and the last one runs from late August to early November.
The caterpillars are brown with cross-wise rows of spines on their upper bodies, which protect them from birds and other would-be predators. Young larvae are gregarious, feeding in groups on aster plants. But those caterpillars spread out as they get older, which is good because they are also much bigger and need to fan out to other asters to get greater amounts of food. The last brood of caterpillars each year spends the winter in the ground, pupates there in the warmth of the next spring and emerges from the soil as mature butterflies around the middle of April. That first generation of adults for the year are ready to sip nectar from various kinds of early-flowering plants, mate and lay eggs to start the next generation of the year.
Pearl crescents are pretty, little butterflies that are most common in autumn after a couple of earlier broods, and most noticed, in abundance, on aster blossoms in October. They are a lovely part of autumn each year.
Saturday, September 19, 2015
Climax of the Biological Year
Each year is divided into four seasons, and two solstices and two equinoxes. My favorite single time of each year is the autumn equinox, followed by the winter solstice. December 21 in the northern hemisphere is the last day of a biological year and December 22 is biological New Year's Day, which is the day to celebrate the coming natural year with its innumerable bounties and beauties. But to me September 21, the fall equinox, represents the climax of nature's year, the time when most vegetation is at its peak of growth and bounty of mature fruits, and wildlife is finished raising young. This is the time all of nature had been striving for, when most life comes to fruit. And for us people, the edible bounty is the most important part of autumn, closely followed by its unique, colorful beauties that feed our sense of esthetics.
All life forms had spent the previous year building up to this climax, starting with the previous autumn. Last fall, much of the wildlife in the northern hemisphere prepared for the coming winter by either migrating, storing food, putting on fat or becoming dormant in protected places. Leaves on deciduous trees died, turned to warm colors and fell to the ground. And most other plants became dormant to face the severity of winter. Then much of life was dormant through winter. Finally spring arrived and with it was the growth of newly sprouted vegetation and the birth of wildlife, all of which grew rapidly through summer. By fall, plants and wild animals are at their peak of abundance. Autumn in the Mid-Atlantic States has several characteristics that make it unique and a joy to experience. The days are still warm, but the nights are cooler than they had been in summer. There is a lulling hush in the air under warm sunshine, yet an excitement of rapidly coming change in the weather. Orange pumpkins decoratively lie in their fields until they are harvested while corn shocks stand like tepees in the fields where the corn stalks grew tall. Grass and weeds stand tall and colorful along country roadsides and in certain fields. And all those grasses and weeds are loaded with small seeds that mice and a variety of wintering birds will eat through winter. And there are still beautiful flowers in abundance along rural roads, including goldenrods, asters and mourning glories. The goldenrods and asters provide much nectar and pollen for a variety of bees, butterflies and other insects.
Certain common kinds of wildlife in the Middle Atlantic States prepare for winter in autumn, also characterizing that lovely season. For example, blue jays, eastern chipmunks and gray squirrels store nuts and seeds for winter use. Wood chucks and black bears put on fat to sleep in secure places through winter. Many kinds of birds and some species of insects migrate south to find food sources that will be free of snow and ice. And gatherings of female box elder bugs and lady bug beetles hide away in secluded places in trees, wooden fence posts and rock piles to avoid the perils of winter.
From the climax of the year on September 21, the autumn equinox in the northern hemisphere, through October and into early November much of nature prepares for winter, when it has its own characteristics and beauties we people enjoy. And during winter nature gathers its resources for the burst of growth during the next spring that matures and reaches a climax of growth by the next fall equinox. That growth has its own beauties and intrigues. Such is the rhythm of life on Earth through innumerable years.
All life forms had spent the previous year building up to this climax, starting with the previous autumn. Last fall, much of the wildlife in the northern hemisphere prepared for the coming winter by either migrating, storing food, putting on fat or becoming dormant in protected places. Leaves on deciduous trees died, turned to warm colors and fell to the ground. And most other plants became dormant to face the severity of winter. Then much of life was dormant through winter. Finally spring arrived and with it was the growth of newly sprouted vegetation and the birth of wildlife, all of which grew rapidly through summer. By fall, plants and wild animals are at their peak of abundance. Autumn in the Mid-Atlantic States has several characteristics that make it unique and a joy to experience. The days are still warm, but the nights are cooler than they had been in summer. There is a lulling hush in the air under warm sunshine, yet an excitement of rapidly coming change in the weather. Orange pumpkins decoratively lie in their fields until they are harvested while corn shocks stand like tepees in the fields where the corn stalks grew tall. Grass and weeds stand tall and colorful along country roadsides and in certain fields. And all those grasses and weeds are loaded with small seeds that mice and a variety of wintering birds will eat through winter. And there are still beautiful flowers in abundance along rural roads, including goldenrods, asters and mourning glories. The goldenrods and asters provide much nectar and pollen for a variety of bees, butterflies and other insects.
Certain common kinds of wildlife in the Middle Atlantic States prepare for winter in autumn, also characterizing that lovely season. For example, blue jays, eastern chipmunks and gray squirrels store nuts and seeds for winter use. Wood chucks and black bears put on fat to sleep in secure places through winter. Many kinds of birds and some species of insects migrate south to find food sources that will be free of snow and ice. And gatherings of female box elder bugs and lady bug beetles hide away in secluded places in trees, wooden fence posts and rock piles to avoid the perils of winter.
From the climax of the year on September 21, the autumn equinox in the northern hemisphere, through October and into early November much of nature prepares for winter, when it has its own characteristics and beauties we people enjoy. And during winter nature gathers its resources for the burst of growth during the next spring that matures and reaches a climax of growth by the next fall equinox. That growth has its own beauties and intrigues. Such is the rhythm of life on Earth through innumerable years.
Friday, September 18, 2015
Broad-winged Hawk Migration
From 9:30 to 11:00 am on September 18, 2015, I was in the Welsh Mountains, a peninsula of wooded hills jutting into the farmland of eastern Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. I was there to watch for the migration of broad-winged hawks that I know are now coming through this area, as they do every year at this time.
On the way to the Welsh Mountains, I noticed fall "was in the air" and the landscape looked to be autumn. Yellow blooms on patches of Canada goldenrod along rural roadsides and in fields, clumps of bur-marigolds along pasture brooks, and ten-foot-tall Jerusalem artichokes, a kind of wild sunflower along country roads, brightened the countryside.
I had been watching the rut of elk in north-central Pennsylvania through the Pennsylvania Game Commission's live camera on our computer screen the last several days, Several cow elk and their calves and, usually, one bull elk gather in a field, surrounded by woods in the mountains, to graze on grass and mate. The bull frequently bugles his presence and is sometimes answered by one or two rival bull elk. Those large deer and the bugling are quite impressive and I realized the elk rut and broad-wing migration out of northeastern North America peak about the same time, around the autumn equinox. And both fall phenomena are spectacular natural happenings to us human observers.
I stationed myself in a small public park, completely surrounded by deciduous trees, in the wooded hills and got my binoculars ready. The day was sunny and warm, with little wind, a lovely, typical autumn day in this area. I noticed there were some red leaves on black gum and red maple trees, and several yellow ones on tulip poplar trees.
Soon several turkey vultures soared and circled overhead, as they rose on rising thermals of sun-warmed air. I thought, "get ready, the broadies won't belong now". Those vultures are often heralds of broad-wings rising from the woods where they perched in trees the night before. And, sure enough, broadies soon started rising from the surrounding woods.
Seemingly with no time to waste, those broad-winged hawks quickly began gathering in a thermal that pushed them higher and higher in the sky. As that "kettle" of silent broad-wings kept swirling and "boiling" higher and still higher, more and more broadies entered it and spiraled upward, too. Within a minute, they were at the zenith of their effortless climb into the sky on out-stretched wings, and rapidly peeled off to the southwest. Within seconds, they were out of sight.
But soon another kettle of broad-wings formed over the park where I was and peeled off to the southwest. Now that those broad-winged hawks are airborne, warm air pushes them up, but gravity pulls them down. That results in a gradual descent. So during each day of migrating, flocks of broadies are obliged to look for thermals of rising, warmed air to keep them aloft and moving southwest to Mexico, Central America and, finally, into northern South America where they spend the northern winter.
Meanwhile, back in the park in the wooded Welsh Mountains, I watched for more broad-wing kettles, but didn't see any more. Those hawks that spent the night in surrounding woods quickly moved on and rapidly became too high to see. But, in the meantime, I saw a few migrant warblers catching insects in the surrounding trees. A ruby-throated hummingbird shot by me on its way to northern South America. A few migrating monarch butterflies fluttered low across the baseball field of the park while a couple of small flocks of tree swallows with their gleaming, white bellies flew above the tree line in southerly direction. All those creatures helped make the sighting of south-bound broad-winged hawks even more entertaining and exciting. It was a beautiful, exciting and good hour and a half I spent in the wooded Welsh Mountains.
Readers can get out when natural phenomena are occurring. Nature is exciting, entertaining and inspiring.
On the way to the Welsh Mountains, I noticed fall "was in the air" and the landscape looked to be autumn. Yellow blooms on patches of Canada goldenrod along rural roadsides and in fields, clumps of bur-marigolds along pasture brooks, and ten-foot-tall Jerusalem artichokes, a kind of wild sunflower along country roads, brightened the countryside.
I had been watching the rut of elk in north-central Pennsylvania through the Pennsylvania Game Commission's live camera on our computer screen the last several days, Several cow elk and their calves and, usually, one bull elk gather in a field, surrounded by woods in the mountains, to graze on grass and mate. The bull frequently bugles his presence and is sometimes answered by one or two rival bull elk. Those large deer and the bugling are quite impressive and I realized the elk rut and broad-wing migration out of northeastern North America peak about the same time, around the autumn equinox. And both fall phenomena are spectacular natural happenings to us human observers.
I stationed myself in a small public park, completely surrounded by deciduous trees, in the wooded hills and got my binoculars ready. The day was sunny and warm, with little wind, a lovely, typical autumn day in this area. I noticed there were some red leaves on black gum and red maple trees, and several yellow ones on tulip poplar trees.
Soon several turkey vultures soared and circled overhead, as they rose on rising thermals of sun-warmed air. I thought, "get ready, the broadies won't belong now". Those vultures are often heralds of broad-wings rising from the woods where they perched in trees the night before. And, sure enough, broadies soon started rising from the surrounding woods.
Seemingly with no time to waste, those broad-winged hawks quickly began gathering in a thermal that pushed them higher and higher in the sky. As that "kettle" of silent broad-wings kept swirling and "boiling" higher and still higher, more and more broadies entered it and spiraled upward, too. Within a minute, they were at the zenith of their effortless climb into the sky on out-stretched wings, and rapidly peeled off to the southwest. Within seconds, they were out of sight.
But soon another kettle of broad-wings formed over the park where I was and peeled off to the southwest. Now that those broad-winged hawks are airborne, warm air pushes them up, but gravity pulls them down. That results in a gradual descent. So during each day of migrating, flocks of broadies are obliged to look for thermals of rising, warmed air to keep them aloft and moving southwest to Mexico, Central America and, finally, into northern South America where they spend the northern winter.
Meanwhile, back in the park in the wooded Welsh Mountains, I watched for more broad-wing kettles, but didn't see any more. Those hawks that spent the night in surrounding woods quickly moved on and rapidly became too high to see. But, in the meantime, I saw a few migrant warblers catching insects in the surrounding trees. A ruby-throated hummingbird shot by me on its way to northern South America. A few migrating monarch butterflies fluttered low across the baseball field of the park while a couple of small flocks of tree swallows with their gleaming, white bellies flew above the tree line in southerly direction. All those creatures helped make the sighting of south-bound broad-winged hawks even more entertaining and exciting. It was a beautiful, exciting and good hour and a half I spent in the wooded Welsh Mountains.
Readers can get out when natural phenomena are occurring. Nature is exciting, entertaining and inspiring.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
An Annual Reproductive Cycle
Each species of wildlife reproduces about the same time each year, creating an annual reproductive cycle, including here in the Middle Atlantic States. We could begin looking at that cycle during any month of the year, including the end of July when courting male crickets, grasshoppers and katydids stridulate their wings, or wings and legs, together to make chirping, chanting or trilling sounds we hear most every evening from late July until heavy frost kills those six-legged fiddlers in October. The purpose of those chants and trills, like all courtships, is to bring the genders of each species together to reproduce themselves while they can.
During August in this area, annual cicada grubs crawl out of the ground where they lived and sucked sap from tree roots. Each grub crawls up a tree. At some point, the back of its exoskeleton cracks open and the mature cicada crawls out. When its wings are pumped out, the grub flies off in search of a mate. Male annual cicadas have flaps under their abdomens that they vibrate to make those whining, pulsing sounds we hear on August days and evenings, which attract mates to them for breeding.
Elk or wapiti begin their courtships during September and into October. Magnificently big bulls bugle wild, piercing challenges to each other rather than fighting by using their antlers to push against each other to test how strong their opponents are. Each big bull collects a harem of cows that he tries to keep away from other bulls. And he will fight other bulls when he has to. About a thousand elk live in a few, mostly forested counties in north-central Pennsylvania.
White-tailed deer court from about the middle of October to mid-December. Again the majestic bigger bucks shove each other with their antlers to determine dominance to mate with the does. And white-tails are less cautious during the breeding season, making them hazards on the roads to us and to themselves.
As white-tailed deer are reaching the peak of their courtships around the end of November, great horned owls are just beginning theirs. We now begin to hear the partners of each pair hooting back and forth to each other at dusk and dawn. Their courtship hooting continues most every dusk and dawn through December.
Horned owls take over the stick, platform nests of hawks, crows and herons in woods, and older suburban areas with their many tall trees, especially conifers. There they attempt to raise one to three chicks. And by starting to court in mid-winter, these owls raise their young to independence by early June when prey animals are abundant and often easy pickings.
Red-tailed hawks and bald eagles in this area begin their courtships in December and continue through January. Now one can see pairs of each majestic species together on nest trees and performing intriguing courtship displays in the air. And one can hear them calling to each other as they rebuild the stick nurseries they used last year.
During warm afternoons in February, male small birds of permanent resident species, including tufted titmice, northern cardinals, mourning doves and song sparrows, begin singing to establish nesting territories. They have watched the daylight each succeeding day increase, which stirred their hormones and made them start singing. Cold weather or a snow storm will stop their singing for a few days. But they start again when the weather warms.
During heavy or prolonged warm rain sometime in March, wood frogs and spotted salamanders come out of hibernation under the leaf cover on forest floors and make their ways to nearby pools of rain and snow melt in depressions on the leaf-covered forest floor. Male wood frogs croak hoarsely to attract and direct females of their species to the pools for spawning of eggs. The salamanders, however, are silent, but males and females find each other for breeding. With their spawning completed within a few days, wood frogs and spotted salamanders retreat to their shelters under fallen leaves on forest floors, leaving their young to hatch and raise themselves.
And every evening, except stormy weather, during March and through April, male American woodcocks court nearby females. At dusk, each male flies out from a bottomland woods to a spot of bare soil in a field where he stands upright with his beak on his chest and "beeps" about a minute. Then he takes off in spiral flight upward while his wings whistle rythmically. At the top of his spiral he vocally sings several series of four notes each that seem to tumble to the ground, followed by the woodcock himself to the same bare spot or another one in the field. Each male continues his series of courtship flights until interrupted by receptive females or hunger.
To see those woodcock courtship flights, stand in a field by a woods known to have woodcocks in it and face the sunset. That way you can see the woodcock silhouetted in flight.
By the end of March, male spring peeper tree frogs and American toads peep and trill respectively. Male peepers continue peeping each evening through April, but the toads only trill for a couple of weeks. Their ear-splitting racket, which is pleasing to many outdoor people eager for signs of spring, again joins the genders of each species for spawning in ponds and marshes.
Also by the end of March, American robins, eastern bluebirds, red-winged blackbirds and other kinds of hardy birds are beginning to sing to establish breeding areas. We are particularly fond of the songs of these birds because they represent, undeniably, that spring and warmer weather have arrived.
By the end of April and through May, June and early July, males of several species of small birds that wintered in Central and South America are singing to establish and maintain nesting territories, and to attract a female of their respective species. Thrushes, warblers, vireos, orioles and tanagers are some of those tropical bird species come north to raise young.
As small birds wind up raising their second broods of the year by late July, male crickets, grasshoppers and katydids begin their fiddling to attract mates to them for another reproductive cycle. And now we are a bit more familiar with some of the creatures in the Middle Atlantic States that engage in courtships we can experience. Those courtship displays make our lives a little more interesting.
During August in this area, annual cicada grubs crawl out of the ground where they lived and sucked sap from tree roots. Each grub crawls up a tree. At some point, the back of its exoskeleton cracks open and the mature cicada crawls out. When its wings are pumped out, the grub flies off in search of a mate. Male annual cicadas have flaps under their abdomens that they vibrate to make those whining, pulsing sounds we hear on August days and evenings, which attract mates to them for breeding.
Elk or wapiti begin their courtships during September and into October. Magnificently big bulls bugle wild, piercing challenges to each other rather than fighting by using their antlers to push against each other to test how strong their opponents are. Each big bull collects a harem of cows that he tries to keep away from other bulls. And he will fight other bulls when he has to. About a thousand elk live in a few, mostly forested counties in north-central Pennsylvania.
White-tailed deer court from about the middle of October to mid-December. Again the majestic bigger bucks shove each other with their antlers to determine dominance to mate with the does. And white-tails are less cautious during the breeding season, making them hazards on the roads to us and to themselves.
As white-tailed deer are reaching the peak of their courtships around the end of November, great horned owls are just beginning theirs. We now begin to hear the partners of each pair hooting back and forth to each other at dusk and dawn. Their courtship hooting continues most every dusk and dawn through December.
Horned owls take over the stick, platform nests of hawks, crows and herons in woods, and older suburban areas with their many tall trees, especially conifers. There they attempt to raise one to three chicks. And by starting to court in mid-winter, these owls raise their young to independence by early June when prey animals are abundant and often easy pickings.
Red-tailed hawks and bald eagles in this area begin their courtships in December and continue through January. Now one can see pairs of each majestic species together on nest trees and performing intriguing courtship displays in the air. And one can hear them calling to each other as they rebuild the stick nurseries they used last year.
During warm afternoons in February, male small birds of permanent resident species, including tufted titmice, northern cardinals, mourning doves and song sparrows, begin singing to establish nesting territories. They have watched the daylight each succeeding day increase, which stirred their hormones and made them start singing. Cold weather or a snow storm will stop their singing for a few days. But they start again when the weather warms.
During heavy or prolonged warm rain sometime in March, wood frogs and spotted salamanders come out of hibernation under the leaf cover on forest floors and make their ways to nearby pools of rain and snow melt in depressions on the leaf-covered forest floor. Male wood frogs croak hoarsely to attract and direct females of their species to the pools for spawning of eggs. The salamanders, however, are silent, but males and females find each other for breeding. With their spawning completed within a few days, wood frogs and spotted salamanders retreat to their shelters under fallen leaves on forest floors, leaving their young to hatch and raise themselves.
And every evening, except stormy weather, during March and through April, male American woodcocks court nearby females. At dusk, each male flies out from a bottomland woods to a spot of bare soil in a field where he stands upright with his beak on his chest and "beeps" about a minute. Then he takes off in spiral flight upward while his wings whistle rythmically. At the top of his spiral he vocally sings several series of four notes each that seem to tumble to the ground, followed by the woodcock himself to the same bare spot or another one in the field. Each male continues his series of courtship flights until interrupted by receptive females or hunger.
To see those woodcock courtship flights, stand in a field by a woods known to have woodcocks in it and face the sunset. That way you can see the woodcock silhouetted in flight.
By the end of March, male spring peeper tree frogs and American toads peep and trill respectively. Male peepers continue peeping each evening through April, but the toads only trill for a couple of weeks. Their ear-splitting racket, which is pleasing to many outdoor people eager for signs of spring, again joins the genders of each species for spawning in ponds and marshes.
Also by the end of March, American robins, eastern bluebirds, red-winged blackbirds and other kinds of hardy birds are beginning to sing to establish breeding areas. We are particularly fond of the songs of these birds because they represent, undeniably, that spring and warmer weather have arrived.
By the end of April and through May, June and early July, males of several species of small birds that wintered in Central and South America are singing to establish and maintain nesting territories, and to attract a female of their respective species. Thrushes, warblers, vireos, orioles and tanagers are some of those tropical bird species come north to raise young.
As small birds wind up raising their second broods of the year by late July, male crickets, grasshoppers and katydids begin their fiddling to attract mates to them for another reproductive cycle. And now we are a bit more familiar with some of the creatures in the Middle Atlantic States that engage in courtships we can experience. Those courtship displays make our lives a little more interesting.
Monday, September 14, 2015
Life in a September Meadow
Today, September 14, 2015, I drove through a section of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland to see what wildlife was active and visible. The day was a clear, cool, blustery one, reminding me of weather in October. I wasn't seeing anything that caught my attention until I crossed a bridge over the beginning section of the clear-flowing Conestoga River where it is about the size of a creek. There, in a broad, sunny cow pasture, I saw several each of migrant tree swallows and barn swallows cruising swiftly, back and forth over the water after flying insects, and a small patch of tall Jerusalem artichoke plants with several yellow flowers and two south-bound monarch butterflies sipping nectar from those blossoms. All that beauty at once caught my attention and I stopped for about an hour to observe it more closely.
Both species of attractive swallows were so fast on the wing that they were hard to follow. They mostly hunted flying insects on the lee side of the bridge where the insects were escaping the worst of the wind, but not being eaten by the swallows.
The golden artichoke (which is really a kind of wild sunflower) blooms were attracting several each of cabbage white and yellow sulphur butterflies, as well as a few monarchs. Those actively fluttering butterflies, that were fighting into the wind to get to the flowers, made those blooms the more interesting and attractive.
There were several other kinds of flowering plants that flourish best in moist soil growing along the banks of the Conestoga River, including bur-marigolds with their yellow blooms, spotted jewelweeds with their orange flowers, arrowheads that had white blossoms and a few plants of purple loosestrife with their pink blooms. The bur-marigold and loosestrife blossoms also had several cabbage white and sulphur yellow butterflies flitting around and on them to sip nectar.
Chicory that had blue flowers and evening primrose with their yellow blooms inhabited higher, drier back corners of the meadow. Several milkweed plants each had a few seed-swollen pods in those pasture corners. And a few of those pods already opened and were releasing their fluff-parachuted seeds in the wind. Each seed hung from its white fluff as it floated away on the wind. Clumps of dead teasel flower heads poked above the surrounding green vegetation. And big-as-bushes pokeweed plants, in those same corners, were dangling with deep-purple, juicy berries that will be food for robins, bluebirds and waxwings this winter.
I saw a few song sparrows among the primrose, milkweed and poke plants. At this time those sparrows probably are mostly eating a variety of invertebrates. But later in autumn and through winter, they will be consuming weed and grass seeds among the tall vegetation of this pasture.
While I was there, a few different kinds of water birds, herons, an egret and sandpipers, were wading in the shallows of the Conestoga to get food. Two post-breeding great blue herons and a great egret spaced themselves in the water as they watched for fish and other aquatic critters to eat. And all of those long-legged, long-necked birds were successful in catching at least two fish each and gulping them down head-first and whole.
A few least sandpipers poked their beaks into mud under inch-deep water after a variety of invertebrates. They, like most of their kin, are migrants from the Arctic tundra where they nested. They are on their way to the southern United States and northern South America to avoid the northern winter, but must stop occasionally to "refuel".
I saw a nice variety of pretty and interesting plants and animals in a meadow in an hour's time. Anyone can do the same just by being outdoors and watching for the possibilities wherever one may be, even close to home.
Both species of attractive swallows were so fast on the wing that they were hard to follow. They mostly hunted flying insects on the lee side of the bridge where the insects were escaping the worst of the wind, but not being eaten by the swallows.
The golden artichoke (which is really a kind of wild sunflower) blooms were attracting several each of cabbage white and yellow sulphur butterflies, as well as a few monarchs. Those actively fluttering butterflies, that were fighting into the wind to get to the flowers, made those blooms the more interesting and attractive.
There were several other kinds of flowering plants that flourish best in moist soil growing along the banks of the Conestoga River, including bur-marigolds with their yellow blooms, spotted jewelweeds with their orange flowers, arrowheads that had white blossoms and a few plants of purple loosestrife with their pink blooms. The bur-marigold and loosestrife blossoms also had several cabbage white and sulphur yellow butterflies flitting around and on them to sip nectar.
Chicory that had blue flowers and evening primrose with their yellow blooms inhabited higher, drier back corners of the meadow. Several milkweed plants each had a few seed-swollen pods in those pasture corners. And a few of those pods already opened and were releasing their fluff-parachuted seeds in the wind. Each seed hung from its white fluff as it floated away on the wind. Clumps of dead teasel flower heads poked above the surrounding green vegetation. And big-as-bushes pokeweed plants, in those same corners, were dangling with deep-purple, juicy berries that will be food for robins, bluebirds and waxwings this winter.
I saw a few song sparrows among the primrose, milkweed and poke plants. At this time those sparrows probably are mostly eating a variety of invertebrates. But later in autumn and through winter, they will be consuming weed and grass seeds among the tall vegetation of this pasture.
While I was there, a few different kinds of water birds, herons, an egret and sandpipers, were wading in the shallows of the Conestoga to get food. Two post-breeding great blue herons and a great egret spaced themselves in the water as they watched for fish and other aquatic critters to eat. And all of those long-legged, long-necked birds were successful in catching at least two fish each and gulping them down head-first and whole.
A few least sandpipers poked their beaks into mud under inch-deep water after a variety of invertebrates. They, like most of their kin, are migrants from the Arctic tundra where they nested. They are on their way to the southern United States and northern South America to avoid the northern winter, but must stop occasionally to "refuel".
I saw a nice variety of pretty and interesting plants and animals in a meadow in an hour's time. Anyone can do the same just by being outdoors and watching for the possibilities wherever one may be, even close to home.
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Mimidae Succession
Recently a lady told me she no longer has mockingbirds in her suburban yard, but she does have catbirds on that same lawn. That statement made me think of the succession of mimidae, which would spread those related kinds of birds into different habitats, reducing competition for space and food among the species.
Mimidae in eastern North America include northern mockingbirds, gray catbirds and brown thrashers. These adaptable, common and cardinal-sized birds are all built much the same, showing their common ancestry. They all live, nest and are camouflaged in the sheltering thickets of shrubs and vines along the edges of woods. And, although each kind of mimidae has its own beautiful songs, mockingbirds and catbirds also mimic sounds they hear, including the songs of other types of birds, which gives them their family name. Sometimes we think there is a host of birds of different kinds singing in a yard, but, in reality, it is only a mocker or a catbird.
All mimidae eat a variety of invertebrates during warmer months, but consume berries mostly in winter. They control the numbers of insects, and spread certain plants across the countryside by ingesting berries, digesting their pulp, but passing their seeds in droppings as they move about from place to place.
Northern mockingbirds are mostly light-gray with white markings on their wings and tails. They are southern birds, some individuals of which pushed north during the early 1950's, and have stayed north to the present day. Mockers are permanent residents, which means they don't migrate. And although some of them still live in the thickets of woodland edges, others are some of the first birds to live and nest among the planted shrubbery of newer suburban areas. Of course, those bushes are small when first planted, but mockers soon inhabit a suburb as the shrubbery gets a bit older and bigger. But as the suburban shrubbery gets still older and bigger, many mockingbirds seem to lose interest in that human-made habitat. But catbirds become more interested in that same changing habitat, sometimes replacing their cousins, the mockers.
Catbirds are gray all over with a darker cap. They prefer to nest in larger patches of shrubbery along woodland edges, and in older suburban areas where the planted bushes had time to get bigger, and where catbirds, to some extent, replace their mockingbird cousins.
Catbirds are skulkers in the dark shadows of shrubbery and more often heard than seen. They are particularly characterized by their meowing call that does sound like that of a cat, hence their name. But their lovely songs coming from thickets at dusk are probably the best part of their existence to us.
Brown thrashers are the least likely of eastern mimidae to inhabit suburban areas, but some pairs of them do nest in some of the older ones, but not nearly as commonly as mockers and catbirds. This thrasher species is warm-brown on top and white below with rows of dark spots on the white. They have their own lovely songs, but are not likely to imitate sounds they hear. However, thrashers are a bit bigger than mockers and catbirds. And thrashers seem to be able to run stronger and faster than their relatives. I sometimes think, in time, they could become road-runner-like. Road runners are able to run fast after invertebrate and small lizard prey.
Mimidae are an adaptable, common and interesting group of medium-sized birds. They have lovely songs, and two kinds of them mimic sounds they hear. But maybe, most interestingly to us, they have adapted to living and nesting in suburban areas where their songs and actions are most appreciated.
Mimidae in eastern North America include northern mockingbirds, gray catbirds and brown thrashers. These adaptable, common and cardinal-sized birds are all built much the same, showing their common ancestry. They all live, nest and are camouflaged in the sheltering thickets of shrubs and vines along the edges of woods. And, although each kind of mimidae has its own beautiful songs, mockingbirds and catbirds also mimic sounds they hear, including the songs of other types of birds, which gives them their family name. Sometimes we think there is a host of birds of different kinds singing in a yard, but, in reality, it is only a mocker or a catbird.
All mimidae eat a variety of invertebrates during warmer months, but consume berries mostly in winter. They control the numbers of insects, and spread certain plants across the countryside by ingesting berries, digesting their pulp, but passing their seeds in droppings as they move about from place to place.
Northern mockingbirds are mostly light-gray with white markings on their wings and tails. They are southern birds, some individuals of which pushed north during the early 1950's, and have stayed north to the present day. Mockers are permanent residents, which means they don't migrate. And although some of them still live in the thickets of woodland edges, others are some of the first birds to live and nest among the planted shrubbery of newer suburban areas. Of course, those bushes are small when first planted, but mockers soon inhabit a suburb as the shrubbery gets a bit older and bigger. But as the suburban shrubbery gets still older and bigger, many mockingbirds seem to lose interest in that human-made habitat. But catbirds become more interested in that same changing habitat, sometimes replacing their cousins, the mockers.
Catbirds are gray all over with a darker cap. They prefer to nest in larger patches of shrubbery along woodland edges, and in older suburban areas where the planted bushes had time to get bigger, and where catbirds, to some extent, replace their mockingbird cousins.
Catbirds are skulkers in the dark shadows of shrubbery and more often heard than seen. They are particularly characterized by their meowing call that does sound like that of a cat, hence their name. But their lovely songs coming from thickets at dusk are probably the best part of their existence to us.
Brown thrashers are the least likely of eastern mimidae to inhabit suburban areas, but some pairs of them do nest in some of the older ones, but not nearly as commonly as mockers and catbirds. This thrasher species is warm-brown on top and white below with rows of dark spots on the white. They have their own lovely songs, but are not likely to imitate sounds they hear. However, thrashers are a bit bigger than mockers and catbirds. And thrashers seem to be able to run stronger and faster than their relatives. I sometimes think, in time, they could become road-runner-like. Road runners are able to run fast after invertebrate and small lizard prey.
Mimidae are an adaptable, common and interesting group of medium-sized birds. They have lovely songs, and two kinds of them mimic sounds they hear. But maybe, most interestingly to us, they have adapted to living and nesting in suburban areas where their songs and actions are most appreciated.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
Post-Breeding Small Birds
Serendipity is looking for one thing, but finding something else of interest. As I was watching a patch of bur-marigold flowers and the insects on them along a brook in a sunny, short-grass meadow, I also began to notice several small birds on two small, half-dead wild cherry trees in that cow pasture. I looked at the birds through my 16 power binoculars and discovered they were of six different kinds that are common in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland. And most of them seemed to be in post-breeding, family groups. I was amazed at the number of species and individuals, considering the lack of vegetative shelter in that human-made meadow. And, as usual, I had to admire their beauties and lively, food-gathering ways.
The first two species I noticed were eastern bluebirds and house finches perched on one of the cherry trees. I saw one male bluebird, one female and two young of the year. Both genders of bluebirds and their youngsters of the year were lovely in appearance.
One by one, those bluebirds fluttered closer to the ground and perched on a rail fence, presumably to watch for insects to eat. They were up and down between the ground and the fence as they caught and ate invertebrates. I saw one young bluebird wrestling with a large, smooth caterpillar before finally swallowing it whole.
i saw one male house finch in his beautiful, pink feathering, and a half dozen or more plain house finches, which I presumed were a female or two and youngsters. The house finches soon dropped to the ground to feed on weed and grass seeds along the fence and in the pasture itself. It was fun to watch those house finches hopping about in the short grass and over bare spots and gleaning seeds from grass and other plants that were grazed by cattle, but later grew seeds on shorter stems.
As I watched the house finches eating seeds on the ground, I saw several chipping sparrows actively eating those same kinds of seeds in the short grass. A few of the chippers had adult plumage, but others had immature feathering. I thought that again this could be a post-breeding family group feeding on seeds. The chippers, too, were attractive in their camouflaged feathering.
As I watched the groups of bluebirds, finches and sparrows feeding in that meadow, I noticed a downy woodpecker hammering on bark in one of the half-dead cherry trees to dig out invertebrates. That in itself is not noteworthy because downies are common permanent residents in this county. But what was remarkable to me was there were no woods within a half mile of that little woodpecker. However, downies are adaptable and do live in older suburban areas and farmland where there are at least a few trees standing. This type of woodpecker even hammers into dead corn stalks in fall after insects in those stalks.
I also noticed a song sparrow standing on a post of the wooden fence used to keep the cattle in the pasture. Song sparrows are permanent residents wherever they are, and notoriously adaptable. Some pairs make do with little shelter, as this sparrow and its mate must be doing in this meadow.
While watching the other birds and the insects on the bur-marigolds, I noticed a small flock of American goldfinches along the fence row. A couple of them were yellow and black adult males that were molting into winter plumage, a few were mature females, but a few were so darkly olive I thought they must be offspring of the year. Those goldfinches were there because of the few thistle plants that went to seed along the fence. They would eat up those seeds and then move on to other sources of seed food.
It was interesting to see these few kinds of adaptable, post-breeding birds going about their daily business of getting food in a human-made habitat with little natural cover. And they were attractive in their feathering, and lively actions that were driven by hunger. Life at home is just as attractive and intriguing as life anywhere on Earth.
The first two species I noticed were eastern bluebirds and house finches perched on one of the cherry trees. I saw one male bluebird, one female and two young of the year. Both genders of bluebirds and their youngsters of the year were lovely in appearance.
One by one, those bluebirds fluttered closer to the ground and perched on a rail fence, presumably to watch for insects to eat. They were up and down between the ground and the fence as they caught and ate invertebrates. I saw one young bluebird wrestling with a large, smooth caterpillar before finally swallowing it whole.
i saw one male house finch in his beautiful, pink feathering, and a half dozen or more plain house finches, which I presumed were a female or two and youngsters. The house finches soon dropped to the ground to feed on weed and grass seeds along the fence and in the pasture itself. It was fun to watch those house finches hopping about in the short grass and over bare spots and gleaning seeds from grass and other plants that were grazed by cattle, but later grew seeds on shorter stems.
As I watched the house finches eating seeds on the ground, I saw several chipping sparrows actively eating those same kinds of seeds in the short grass. A few of the chippers had adult plumage, but others had immature feathering. I thought that again this could be a post-breeding family group feeding on seeds. The chippers, too, were attractive in their camouflaged feathering.
As I watched the groups of bluebirds, finches and sparrows feeding in that meadow, I noticed a downy woodpecker hammering on bark in one of the half-dead cherry trees to dig out invertebrates. That in itself is not noteworthy because downies are common permanent residents in this county. But what was remarkable to me was there were no woods within a half mile of that little woodpecker. However, downies are adaptable and do live in older suburban areas and farmland where there are at least a few trees standing. This type of woodpecker even hammers into dead corn stalks in fall after insects in those stalks.
I also noticed a song sparrow standing on a post of the wooden fence used to keep the cattle in the pasture. Song sparrows are permanent residents wherever they are, and notoriously adaptable. Some pairs make do with little shelter, as this sparrow and its mate must be doing in this meadow.
While watching the other birds and the insects on the bur-marigolds, I noticed a small flock of American goldfinches along the fence row. A couple of them were yellow and black adult males that were molting into winter plumage, a few were mature females, but a few were so darkly olive I thought they must be offspring of the year. Those goldfinches were there because of the few thistle plants that went to seed along the fence. They would eat up those seeds and then move on to other sources of seed food.
It was interesting to see these few kinds of adaptable, post-breeding birds going about their daily business of getting food in a human-made habitat with little natural cover. And they were attractive in their feathering, and lively actions that were driven by hunger. Life at home is just as attractive and intriguing as life anywhere on Earth.
Friday, September 11, 2015
Bur-Marigold Beauties
Bur-marigolds bloom each year during the first few weeks of September here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. This plant, Bidens laevis, grows up to three feet tall in sunny, wet habitats, often in clumps of itself. Each plant has several cheery, yellow flowers that are about two inches across. And each bloom has eight petals around a golden disc.
The beautiful bur-marigolds are native to the United States from New England south to the Gulf of Mexico, across to Mexico and in much of South America. This species is mainly coastal, but spotty inland. Here in Lancaster County they are absent from most wet habitats, but abundant where they have become established. They develop colonies of themselves along both shores of streams and brooks in sunny cow pastures. The attractive sneezeweeds, spotted jewelweeds, arrowheads and other plants of wet habitats often are the associates of bur-marigolds. These flowering plants usually don't get mowed because they grow from mud close to waterways. Mowers are likely to get stuck in the mud.
Bur-marigolds are not only pretty in themselves, but also in the multitudes of insects they attract. Insects of several kinds are all over those blossoms, making them more interesting. Those insects are there to sip sugary nectar and eat pollen, fertilizing the blossoms in the process. Cabbage white butterflies are particularly abundant around bur-marigold flowers in this area, followed by yellow sulphur butterflies. Some other kinds of butterflies I've seen on them in September include pearl crescents, buckeyes, silver-spotted skippers and monarchs.
Monarch butterflies at this time of year are those that will make the trip to certain forests on mountains in the middle of Mexico, forests where they will spend the northern winter in comparative warmth. I've seen several monarchs at a time sipping nectar from bur-marigold blooms, and other kinds of flowers, to get energy for their trip southwest. The lovely monarchs on the pretty bur-marigold blooms are beauty enough in themselves. Probably, monarchs need to sip nectar every day along the way of their migrations.
Other types of insects I have seen on bur-marigold flowers are digger wasps and bees, particularly bumble bees. Digger wasps have black bodies and brown-orange abdomens. The adults sip nectar from flowers, but their young eat the larvae of green June beetles their mothers paralyze with a sting and bury in the ground. Each female digger wasp lays one egg on top of each paralyzed beetle larva. The wasp larva eats its host, the beetle larva, pupates in the soil and later emerges as an adult wasp.
Bur-marigolds are also called beggar ticks because their seeds are two-pronged, with sharp points and tiny barbs on those small prongs. Because of those barbs, the seeds cling to the fur of animals and peoples' clothing and are carried away from the parent plants. If those irritating seeds are pulled out of fur and clothing in damp habitats, a new colony of bur-marigold plants may develop. Some of those seeds are eaten by rodents and small, seed-eating birds, however.
Look for patches of blooming bur-marigold plants in moist, sunny habitats at this time of year. They are lovely and cheery, and provide food for a variety of wildlife, which adds to their beauties and intrigues.
The beautiful bur-marigolds are native to the United States from New England south to the Gulf of Mexico, across to Mexico and in much of South America. This species is mainly coastal, but spotty inland. Here in Lancaster County they are absent from most wet habitats, but abundant where they have become established. They develop colonies of themselves along both shores of streams and brooks in sunny cow pastures. The attractive sneezeweeds, spotted jewelweeds, arrowheads and other plants of wet habitats often are the associates of bur-marigolds. These flowering plants usually don't get mowed because they grow from mud close to waterways. Mowers are likely to get stuck in the mud.
Bur-marigolds are not only pretty in themselves, but also in the multitudes of insects they attract. Insects of several kinds are all over those blossoms, making them more interesting. Those insects are there to sip sugary nectar and eat pollen, fertilizing the blossoms in the process. Cabbage white butterflies are particularly abundant around bur-marigold flowers in this area, followed by yellow sulphur butterflies. Some other kinds of butterflies I've seen on them in September include pearl crescents, buckeyes, silver-spotted skippers and monarchs.
Monarch butterflies at this time of year are those that will make the trip to certain forests on mountains in the middle of Mexico, forests where they will spend the northern winter in comparative warmth. I've seen several monarchs at a time sipping nectar from bur-marigold blooms, and other kinds of flowers, to get energy for their trip southwest. The lovely monarchs on the pretty bur-marigold blooms are beauty enough in themselves. Probably, monarchs need to sip nectar every day along the way of their migrations.
Other types of insects I have seen on bur-marigold flowers are digger wasps and bees, particularly bumble bees. Digger wasps have black bodies and brown-orange abdomens. The adults sip nectar from flowers, but their young eat the larvae of green June beetles their mothers paralyze with a sting and bury in the ground. Each female digger wasp lays one egg on top of each paralyzed beetle larva. The wasp larva eats its host, the beetle larva, pupates in the soil and later emerges as an adult wasp.
Bur-marigolds are also called beggar ticks because their seeds are two-pronged, with sharp points and tiny barbs on those small prongs. Because of those barbs, the seeds cling to the fur of animals and peoples' clothing and are carried away from the parent plants. If those irritating seeds are pulled out of fur and clothing in damp habitats, a new colony of bur-marigold plants may develop. Some of those seeds are eaten by rodents and small, seed-eating birds, however.
Look for patches of blooming bur-marigold plants in moist, sunny habitats at this time of year. They are lovely and cheery, and provide food for a variety of wildlife, which adds to their beauties and intrigues.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
September's Raptor Migrants in Lancaster County
A few kinds of diurnal raptors are suddenly noticed in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania more commonly in September than they were during summer. Those raptors are migrating ospreys, bald eagles, broad-winged hawks and American kestrels. But a person needs to know when and where to look for these migrants birds to be able to spot them.
These raptors are not confined to migrating in September. They started their push south for the winter in August and will continue to do so through October, though we won't see broad-wings in Lancaster County during that latter month.
Ospreys are catchers of larger fish they pick from near the surfaces of creeks, rivers and impoundments. Therefore, they are most likely seen along those bodies of water during their migrations south, though they are spotted overland as well. Here in Lancaster County we see them mostly along the Susquehanna River, the Conestoga River and most any impoundment. They are always thrilling to see.
Ospreys are big and stately. They are white below and dark on top, with white heads and a dark band through each eye. When fishing, they hover into the wind while watching the water. When a finny victim is spotted, each osprey drops feet-first into the water to snare it in its long, sharp talons. Then the osprey flies out of the water and to a rock or tree perch to eat its prey.
A few pairs of ospreys nest along the Susquehanna River here in Lancaster County. But those we see here in autumn had come from waterways and impoundments farther north and are making their way farther south to waters that won't freeze in winter.
Several pairs of bald eagles nest in Lancaster County and surrounding counties along the Susquehanna River. A few pairs also raise young at impoundments and by creeks in farmland. But many balds come through this area during late summer and fall and are mostly spotted around bigger waterways and impoundments, including in cropland, where they search for larger fish.
Mature balds are huge and dark all over with white heads and tails. Immatures are dark all over, mottled a bit with white. All ages are majestic perched or soaring on high.
Bald eagles catch live fish by swooping low to the water and plucking their victims from the surface with their powerful claws, without entering the water as ospreys do. But balds also scavenge dead fish, and any other creatures, as vultures do.
Some bald eagles winter in Lancaster County and surrounding counties where they catch live fish from ice-free waters or scavenge carcasses wherever they find them, including dead chickens and other farm animals in agricultural areas. We often see two kinds of vultures, American crows, red-tailed hawks and bald eagles scavenging dead livestock in farmland in winter.
Broad-winged hawks migrate through this area during September, with a peak of migration around September 20. They are gone from northeastern North America by the end of the month.
Broad-wings nested in forests in northeastern Pennsylvania, eastern New York State, New England and eastern Canada. And they are the only hawk species in eastern North America that migrates in flocks of score, hundreds, and even thousands at times, creating magnificent spectacles.
On a typical warm, sunny day in Lancaster County in September, I have stood south or southwest of a woodlot by 9:00 am and watched the sky over the woods for broad-wings. Sometimes I first see turkey vultures soaring up from the woods, then one or two broadies. Within minutes, several broad-winged hawks circle over the woods and neighboring fields as they search for a thermal of rising air warmed by sunlight shining on bare ground fields, blacktop roads and buildings in the area. I can see the broad-wings swirling upward in a thermal, higher and higher, until they reach the zenith. Then they peel off, one after the other, and soar swiftly to the southwest in long lines. Gravity gradually pulls them down, so they are obliged to seek another thermal, and another, all day. But those thermals carry them on long migrations to Mexico, Central America and South America with little effort. There they winter until early March when they start north again.
American kestrels rear offspring sparingly in tree cavities, barns and nest boxes erected for them or screech owls in farmland in this area. But by late August and September, I suddenly see kestrels perched on roadside wires in cropland where I had not seen them all summer. These are migrant kestrels, a small cousin to peregrine falcons, looking for mice, grasshoppers and small birds along country roads and neighboring fields. Some of those kestrels will continue going farther south for the winter, but some others will winter in local farmland, preying mostly on mice and small birds.
Look for these migrating diurnal raptors this September or succeeding ones. They are exciting and inspiring to see soaring southwest or south to escape the northern winter.
These raptors are not confined to migrating in September. They started their push south for the winter in August and will continue to do so through October, though we won't see broad-wings in Lancaster County during that latter month.
Ospreys are catchers of larger fish they pick from near the surfaces of creeks, rivers and impoundments. Therefore, they are most likely seen along those bodies of water during their migrations south, though they are spotted overland as well. Here in Lancaster County we see them mostly along the Susquehanna River, the Conestoga River and most any impoundment. They are always thrilling to see.
Ospreys are big and stately. They are white below and dark on top, with white heads and a dark band through each eye. When fishing, they hover into the wind while watching the water. When a finny victim is spotted, each osprey drops feet-first into the water to snare it in its long, sharp talons. Then the osprey flies out of the water and to a rock or tree perch to eat its prey.
A few pairs of ospreys nest along the Susquehanna River here in Lancaster County. But those we see here in autumn had come from waterways and impoundments farther north and are making their way farther south to waters that won't freeze in winter.
Several pairs of bald eagles nest in Lancaster County and surrounding counties along the Susquehanna River. A few pairs also raise young at impoundments and by creeks in farmland. But many balds come through this area during late summer and fall and are mostly spotted around bigger waterways and impoundments, including in cropland, where they search for larger fish.
Mature balds are huge and dark all over with white heads and tails. Immatures are dark all over, mottled a bit with white. All ages are majestic perched or soaring on high.
Bald eagles catch live fish by swooping low to the water and plucking their victims from the surface with their powerful claws, without entering the water as ospreys do. But balds also scavenge dead fish, and any other creatures, as vultures do.
Some bald eagles winter in Lancaster County and surrounding counties where they catch live fish from ice-free waters or scavenge carcasses wherever they find them, including dead chickens and other farm animals in agricultural areas. We often see two kinds of vultures, American crows, red-tailed hawks and bald eagles scavenging dead livestock in farmland in winter.
Broad-winged hawks migrate through this area during September, with a peak of migration around September 20. They are gone from northeastern North America by the end of the month.
Broad-wings nested in forests in northeastern Pennsylvania, eastern New York State, New England and eastern Canada. And they are the only hawk species in eastern North America that migrates in flocks of score, hundreds, and even thousands at times, creating magnificent spectacles.
On a typical warm, sunny day in Lancaster County in September, I have stood south or southwest of a woodlot by 9:00 am and watched the sky over the woods for broad-wings. Sometimes I first see turkey vultures soaring up from the woods, then one or two broadies. Within minutes, several broad-winged hawks circle over the woods and neighboring fields as they search for a thermal of rising air warmed by sunlight shining on bare ground fields, blacktop roads and buildings in the area. I can see the broad-wings swirling upward in a thermal, higher and higher, until they reach the zenith. Then they peel off, one after the other, and soar swiftly to the southwest in long lines. Gravity gradually pulls them down, so they are obliged to seek another thermal, and another, all day. But those thermals carry them on long migrations to Mexico, Central America and South America with little effort. There they winter until early March when they start north again.
American kestrels rear offspring sparingly in tree cavities, barns and nest boxes erected for them or screech owls in farmland in this area. But by late August and September, I suddenly see kestrels perched on roadside wires in cropland where I had not seen them all summer. These are migrant kestrels, a small cousin to peregrine falcons, looking for mice, grasshoppers and small birds along country roads and neighboring fields. Some of those kestrels will continue going farther south for the winter, but some others will winter in local farmland, preying mostly on mice and small birds.
Look for these migrating diurnal raptors this September or succeeding ones. They are exciting and inspiring to see soaring southwest or south to escape the northern winter.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Fish in Muddy Creek
For about an hour in the afternoon of September 8, 2015, I went to a hundred-yard, slow-moving stretch of Muddy Creek in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland to see if any warblers and other kinds of migrant small birds were in the trees along the shores of that waterway. Because we had not received rain for the last few weeks, the water level of the creek was down and the shallow water was clear. I could see the rocks on the creek's bed. But I didn't see any critters in the water, however. So I continued my search for migrant birds, but still with "half an eye" in the water just in case.
I hadn't really ever search this section of creek for any kind of fish in the past, mainly because I was always searching the shoreline trees for birds. And, usually, the water level is deeper than now, and more filled with silt, making fish hard to see.
But as I stood along the shore, i noticed a couple of fish swim into a "hole" of deeper water with little current. There they faced the sluggish current and swam in it just enough to maintain their positions and watch for any critters, either aquatic or terrestrial, small enough for them to eat. I looked at the fish with my 16 power binoculars and noticed they were adult bluegill sunfish, a species that has been introduced to farm ponds in this area for years. When one starts seeing critters, often more and more pop into view. I started to see several more bluegills of varying sizes in the current and in depressions on the bottom.
To me, sunfish are interesting in creeks like this. They are chunky fish, not streamlined for live in a stream's current. They, and large-mouthed bass, have been abundantly introduced to farm ponds in this area over the years. But the adaptable sunfish seem able to cope with slow currents in the deeper parts of many local streams and creeks. They even spawn there in May of each year. And, in time, sunfish born with more streamlined body shapes will be better able to cope with faster currents and become stream fish.
How bluegills got into this creek, any most other creeks in this area, is a mystery. This species is not native to that habitat. Either they were introduced to creeks by local people for fishing, or they were washed out of farm ponds and into waterways during heavy rains and flooding.
As I watched the bluegills, I noticed a few half-grown white suckers in the current. Suckers are stream-lined, long and lean, ideal body builds for living in stream currents. So the suckers were native to that creek habitat where they live all their lives and spawn each April among the rocks on the bottom of that waterway and many others.
Suckers have down-turned mouths adapted to feeding on plant and animal material, dead or alive, on the bottoms of waterways. Therefore, suckers reduce competition with bluegills for food.
As I watched the bluegills and suckers in the water with my field glasses, I was pleasantly surprised to see a big large-mouthed bass, then another and another. These large fish are already streamlined to chase down prey such as bluegills and other, smaller fish, frogs and other creatures in impoundments large and small. It was a joy to see those long, lean bass swimming gracefully into the current of Muddy Creek as they watched for prey. They swim so powerfully that they barely moved their tails to navigate upstream with ease.
Since I was along Muddy Creek for only an hour in mid-afternoon, I didn't see many other critters. But other creatures, small and large, must be there since the fish are. I didn't poke among the rocks on the bottom, but crayfish and aquatic insect larvae must be there to help feed the fish. And invertebrates fall into the water from the trees and other plants hanging over the water and are snatched up by fish. No doubt schools of minnows were hiding under the stream banks and bottom rocks to avoid being eaten by the bigger fish.
And although I didn't see any during my stop at Muddy Creek on September 8, I do occasionally spot a heron, kingfisher, merganser ducks or an osprey along this creek. They, of course, are there to catch fish. And I would not doubt mink are there to catch fish at night.
Sometimes a habitat may seem devoid of life at first, but wait patiently and watch carefully and wildlife will become visible. Few habitats on Earth don't have life.
I hadn't really ever search this section of creek for any kind of fish in the past, mainly because I was always searching the shoreline trees for birds. And, usually, the water level is deeper than now, and more filled with silt, making fish hard to see.
But as I stood along the shore, i noticed a couple of fish swim into a "hole" of deeper water with little current. There they faced the sluggish current and swam in it just enough to maintain their positions and watch for any critters, either aquatic or terrestrial, small enough for them to eat. I looked at the fish with my 16 power binoculars and noticed they were adult bluegill sunfish, a species that has been introduced to farm ponds in this area for years. When one starts seeing critters, often more and more pop into view. I started to see several more bluegills of varying sizes in the current and in depressions on the bottom.
To me, sunfish are interesting in creeks like this. They are chunky fish, not streamlined for live in a stream's current. They, and large-mouthed bass, have been abundantly introduced to farm ponds in this area over the years. But the adaptable sunfish seem able to cope with slow currents in the deeper parts of many local streams and creeks. They even spawn there in May of each year. And, in time, sunfish born with more streamlined body shapes will be better able to cope with faster currents and become stream fish.
How bluegills got into this creek, any most other creeks in this area, is a mystery. This species is not native to that habitat. Either they were introduced to creeks by local people for fishing, or they were washed out of farm ponds and into waterways during heavy rains and flooding.
As I watched the bluegills, I noticed a few half-grown white suckers in the current. Suckers are stream-lined, long and lean, ideal body builds for living in stream currents. So the suckers were native to that creek habitat where they live all their lives and spawn each April among the rocks on the bottom of that waterway and many others.
Suckers have down-turned mouths adapted to feeding on plant and animal material, dead or alive, on the bottoms of waterways. Therefore, suckers reduce competition with bluegills for food.
As I watched the bluegills and suckers in the water with my field glasses, I was pleasantly surprised to see a big large-mouthed bass, then another and another. These large fish are already streamlined to chase down prey such as bluegills and other, smaller fish, frogs and other creatures in impoundments large and small. It was a joy to see those long, lean bass swimming gracefully into the current of Muddy Creek as they watched for prey. They swim so powerfully that they barely moved their tails to navigate upstream with ease.
Since I was along Muddy Creek for only an hour in mid-afternoon, I didn't see many other critters. But other creatures, small and large, must be there since the fish are. I didn't poke among the rocks on the bottom, but crayfish and aquatic insect larvae must be there to help feed the fish. And invertebrates fall into the water from the trees and other plants hanging over the water and are snatched up by fish. No doubt schools of minnows were hiding under the stream banks and bottom rocks to avoid being eaten by the bigger fish.
And although I didn't see any during my stop at Muddy Creek on September 8, I do occasionally spot a heron, kingfisher, merganser ducks or an osprey along this creek. They, of course, are there to catch fish. And I would not doubt mink are there to catch fish at night.
Sometimes a habitat may seem devoid of life at first, but wait patiently and watch carefully and wildlife will become visible. Few habitats on Earth don't have life.
Sunday, September 6, 2015
Black Gums and Sweet Gums
Black gum trees and sweet gum trees have some characteristics in common, though they are not in the same genus of trees. They both are deciduous trees and have beautiful foliage in summer and autumn. Both are native to the eastern United States and planted on some lawns because of their lovely leaves. Both provide food for certain kinds of wildlife. And, I must admit, they, along with red and sugar maples and stag-horn sumacs, produce my most favorite colored leaves of all the tree species in southeastern Pennsylvania.
Black gum trees, along with red maples and white oaks, grow mostly in bottomlands with moist, loamy soil. Black gums have beautifully glossy, simple leaves in summer, some of which turn red during August. Their foliage is one of the first to turn colors as the green chlorophyll dies in them. Black gums leaves' reach a peak of turning colors by early October, helping make wooded bottomlands strikingly, breathtakingly red.
Some black gum trees have one gender or the other, but not both, while other individuals have both genders. In spring, a variety of bees and other insects collect nectar and pollen from black gum blooms. The bees, of course, turn some of that nectar to honey to feed their larvae. And all those insects that visit black gum blossoms pollinate their blooms.
The fertilized flowers of black gums produce greenish drupes in clusters of two or three each. Those drupes turn dark-blue when ripe and are eaten by white-tailed deer, black bears, rodents, a variety of birds and other creatures during fall and winter. Those birds and mammals make black gums all the more interesting to experience, both in the wild and on lawns.
Sweet gum trees are native to the southeastern part of the United States, except in the Appalachian Mountains. This tree species has five-pointed, star-shaped leaves that turn red, orange, yellow or maroon, often all those colors on the same tree. Other sweet gums will have, mostly, red, yellow or orange foliage. But all these trees reach their peak of color in the latter half of October and into November when they are absolutely exquisite.
During summer, sweet gums produce many green, spiny-looking seed balls that die and turn brown by autumn. As they die, each one of those seed balls shrivels and opens in several places, which releases their innumerable, tiny black seeds that are alive, mature and ready to sprout if they fall on good soil. Some of those bristly balls remain in the trees when they release their seeds, while others open on the ground where they fell by the hundreds.
Many individuals of several kinds of seed-eating birds consume sweet gum seeds, either in the trees or on the ground. Permanent resident house finches and American gold finches, and wintering white-throated sparrows, dark-eyed juncos, common redpolls and pine siskins are some of those seed-eating birds that help make sweet gum trees interesting in winter, again both in the wild and on lawns.
Look for the beautiful autumn leaves on these two species of trees this fall, or succeeding ones. And watch for interesting wildlife feeding on their drupes or seeds. These trees, like most plants, are attractive and intriguing in themselves, and in the animals they feed and shelter.
Black gum trees, along with red maples and white oaks, grow mostly in bottomlands with moist, loamy soil. Black gums have beautifully glossy, simple leaves in summer, some of which turn red during August. Their foliage is one of the first to turn colors as the green chlorophyll dies in them. Black gums leaves' reach a peak of turning colors by early October, helping make wooded bottomlands strikingly, breathtakingly red.
Some black gum trees have one gender or the other, but not both, while other individuals have both genders. In spring, a variety of bees and other insects collect nectar and pollen from black gum blooms. The bees, of course, turn some of that nectar to honey to feed their larvae. And all those insects that visit black gum blossoms pollinate their blooms.
The fertilized flowers of black gums produce greenish drupes in clusters of two or three each. Those drupes turn dark-blue when ripe and are eaten by white-tailed deer, black bears, rodents, a variety of birds and other creatures during fall and winter. Those birds and mammals make black gums all the more interesting to experience, both in the wild and on lawns.
Sweet gum trees are native to the southeastern part of the United States, except in the Appalachian Mountains. This tree species has five-pointed, star-shaped leaves that turn red, orange, yellow or maroon, often all those colors on the same tree. Other sweet gums will have, mostly, red, yellow or orange foliage. But all these trees reach their peak of color in the latter half of October and into November when they are absolutely exquisite.
During summer, sweet gums produce many green, spiny-looking seed balls that die and turn brown by autumn. As they die, each one of those seed balls shrivels and opens in several places, which releases their innumerable, tiny black seeds that are alive, mature and ready to sprout if they fall on good soil. Some of those bristly balls remain in the trees when they release their seeds, while others open on the ground where they fell by the hundreds.
Many individuals of several kinds of seed-eating birds consume sweet gum seeds, either in the trees or on the ground. Permanent resident house finches and American gold finches, and wintering white-throated sparrows, dark-eyed juncos, common redpolls and pine siskins are some of those seed-eating birds that help make sweet gum trees interesting in winter, again both in the wild and on lawns.
Look for the beautiful autumn leaves on these two species of trees this fall, or succeeding ones. And watch for interesting wildlife feeding on their drupes or seeds. These trees, like most plants, are attractive and intriguing in themselves, and in the animals they feed and shelter.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
America's Largest Land Reptiles
Reptiles are cold-blooded, scaly creatures. They have developed four major groupings, turtles, crocodileans, snakes and lizards, all of which live in the United States and around the world. Although most reptiles are small, some are large in The States, including snapping turtles, alligator snapping turtles, American alligators, American crocodiles, spectacled caimans, Burmese pythons and common iguanas. Because of their sizes and potential to be dangerous, these reptiles are exciting to many people.
Snapping turtles live in rivers, creeks and human-made impoundments throughout the eastern half of the United States. Like all turtles, they have bony upper and lower shells covered by hard skin made of the same material as our finger and toe nails, and scaly legs. Their top shells can be as much as two feet long and over a foot across. As their name implies, this type of turtle will snap at any creature to defend itself. They can be dangerous to us because of their sharp jaws and tendency to bite first "and ask questions later".
Snapping turtles are carnivorous, preying on fish, frogs, land animals floundering in the water and other creatures they can subdue. Each female snapper, like most species of water turtles in the northern hemisphere, leave the water in June to lay a clutch of eggs in loose soil. Walking ponderously on land or across roads, these big turtles look like remnants of dinosaur days.
Alligator snapping turtles are much like snappers, except the present species is even bigger, restricted to the southcentral part of the States, particularly in the Mississippi River basin, and wiggles a worm-like appendage on its tongue in its open mouth to attract fish to its mouth. Seeing that moving appendage peeks the curiosity of fish that think it is possible food. When they come closer for a better look, the turtle, which is quite still and half-submerged in bottom mud, slams its mouth shut on the fish. Alligator snappers, like all aquatic reptiles, must regularly come to the surface for air.
American alligators are common today from eastern North Carolina south and west to Florida, the Gulf Coast and southern Texas. They are aquatic reptiles, grow up to twelve feet long, or more, and are carnivorous. They attempt to eat any animals they can subdue. And they are devout scavengers.
Females each lay a few dozen eggs in a pile or nest of rotting vegetation. The decaying plants produce heat that causes the development of the alligator embryos. Young alligators produce squeaky sounds when they hatch, which prompts their mothers to remove the vegetation and carry the young in their mouths to water where they are released to be on their own.
Raccoons, opossums, skunks and other kinds of creatures dig out and eat alligator eggs from some clutches. And herons, mink, large fish and other aquatic critters catch and consume many young alligators while they are small.
American crocodiles and spectacled caimans resemble and have similar life histories as alligators. But both these kinds of crocodileans, in the United States, are mostly restricted to the southern tip of Florida. Crocodiles also live in Central and South America. Spectacled caimans were introduced to Florida from Central and South America. American alligators seem to be faring well in their increasing populations, but crocodiles and caimans have uncertain futures.
Burmese pythons are large, beautifully patterned snakes that were introduced to Florida as pets from southeast Asia. Because they can grow to several feet long and are constrictors (snakes that squeeze animals to death) of larger animals, they, too, are dangerous to people. Constrictor snakes throw a loop of their muscular bodies around a victim and squeeze ever tighter every time they feel the animal exhale. Soon the victim can't inhale and smothers to death.
Some people buy cute, little baby Burmese pythons. But when those beige and chestnut-colored snakes get large and demand ever larger animals to ingest, some of those people release the snakes into the wild where some of those reptiles grow up.
The Florida everglades are warm the year around and full of wildlife, a good habitat for this species of large snake. Today tens of thousands of these pythons live in the Everglades, and, apparently, reproduce there. They probably are there to stay. And they might spread north if they adapt to colder weather and other conditions.
Common iguanas are larger lizards from Central and northern South America. Adults are green and over six feet long, making them the largest lizard in the wild in the United States. Again, some people bought them when they were small and cute. But some of those people released their lizard pets into the wild when those critters got too large to handle or feed. Common iguanas now live wild around Miami and Fort Lauderdale in Florida.
These are some of the larger, more exciting species of reptiles in the United States. Some are attractive, some are dangerous, but all of them are interesting in the wild.
Snapping turtles live in rivers, creeks and human-made impoundments throughout the eastern half of the United States. Like all turtles, they have bony upper and lower shells covered by hard skin made of the same material as our finger and toe nails, and scaly legs. Their top shells can be as much as two feet long and over a foot across. As their name implies, this type of turtle will snap at any creature to defend itself. They can be dangerous to us because of their sharp jaws and tendency to bite first "and ask questions later".
Snapping turtles are carnivorous, preying on fish, frogs, land animals floundering in the water and other creatures they can subdue. Each female snapper, like most species of water turtles in the northern hemisphere, leave the water in June to lay a clutch of eggs in loose soil. Walking ponderously on land or across roads, these big turtles look like remnants of dinosaur days.
Alligator snapping turtles are much like snappers, except the present species is even bigger, restricted to the southcentral part of the States, particularly in the Mississippi River basin, and wiggles a worm-like appendage on its tongue in its open mouth to attract fish to its mouth. Seeing that moving appendage peeks the curiosity of fish that think it is possible food. When they come closer for a better look, the turtle, which is quite still and half-submerged in bottom mud, slams its mouth shut on the fish. Alligator snappers, like all aquatic reptiles, must regularly come to the surface for air.
American alligators are common today from eastern North Carolina south and west to Florida, the Gulf Coast and southern Texas. They are aquatic reptiles, grow up to twelve feet long, or more, and are carnivorous. They attempt to eat any animals they can subdue. And they are devout scavengers.
Females each lay a few dozen eggs in a pile or nest of rotting vegetation. The decaying plants produce heat that causes the development of the alligator embryos. Young alligators produce squeaky sounds when they hatch, which prompts their mothers to remove the vegetation and carry the young in their mouths to water where they are released to be on their own.
Raccoons, opossums, skunks and other kinds of creatures dig out and eat alligator eggs from some clutches. And herons, mink, large fish and other aquatic critters catch and consume many young alligators while they are small.
American crocodiles and spectacled caimans resemble and have similar life histories as alligators. But both these kinds of crocodileans, in the United States, are mostly restricted to the southern tip of Florida. Crocodiles also live in Central and South America. Spectacled caimans were introduced to Florida from Central and South America. American alligators seem to be faring well in their increasing populations, but crocodiles and caimans have uncertain futures.
Burmese pythons are large, beautifully patterned snakes that were introduced to Florida as pets from southeast Asia. Because they can grow to several feet long and are constrictors (snakes that squeeze animals to death) of larger animals, they, too, are dangerous to people. Constrictor snakes throw a loop of their muscular bodies around a victim and squeeze ever tighter every time they feel the animal exhale. Soon the victim can't inhale and smothers to death.
Some people buy cute, little baby Burmese pythons. But when those beige and chestnut-colored snakes get large and demand ever larger animals to ingest, some of those people release the snakes into the wild where some of those reptiles grow up.
The Florida everglades are warm the year around and full of wildlife, a good habitat for this species of large snake. Today tens of thousands of these pythons live in the Everglades, and, apparently, reproduce there. They probably are there to stay. And they might spread north if they adapt to colder weather and other conditions.
Common iguanas are larger lizards from Central and northern South America. Adults are green and over six feet long, making them the largest lizard in the wild in the United States. Again, some people bought them when they were small and cute. But some of those people released their lizard pets into the wild when those critters got too large to handle or feed. Common iguanas now live wild around Miami and Fort Lauderdale in Florida.
These are some of the larger, more exciting species of reptiles in the United States. Some are attractive, some are dangerous, but all of them are interesting in the wild.
Thursday, September 3, 2015
European Life in Lancaster County
For about an hour during a hot afternoon a few days ago I drove through farmland around New Holland, Pennsylvania to see what wildlife was visible and what they were doing. I didn't see anything new or particularly exciting, but I did see adaptable wildlife originally from Europe going about their daily business.
As I drove by a pasture and feedlot with several young, holstein cows in it, I noticed over a hundred house sparrows perched on a large patch of foxtail grass near the road. I stopped to get better looks of those scores of sparrows feeding on the seeds of that tall grass that is also originally from Europe. The grass grew wild and is now a tremendous food source to seed-eating, small birds through fall and winter.
While still parked at the foxtail grass patch, I took closer notice of the cattle feedlot. About a dozen European starlings where helping themselves to the food in the feed troughs, one of the reasons starlings are so abundant the year round here.
Driving on, I came to a loose gathering of colorful bantam chickens right along another country road. There were small groups, here and there, of hens and roosters, families of half-grown chicks already on their own, and a couple broods of small peeps with their mothers. All those small, attractive chickens were feeding on grasshoppers, crickets, weed seeds and waste grain as I drove by slowly. A few of the bantams crossed the road in front of my car, but I was able to avoid them.
All breeds of domestic chickens, including bantams, are descended from the red jungle fowl of southeast Asia. Some farmers here in Lancaster County let chickens run free, including bantams. It's interesting to see how those free-roaming chickens behave when feeding and socializing across fields and lawns.
I saw several cabbage white and yellow sulphur butterflies puddling in mud along the edge of the Conestoga River, which might seem an unusual behavior for butterflies. Butterflies use their straw-like mouths to get salt and minerals from the mud, nutrition they don't get from flower nectar or pollen.
Those same kinds of butterflies, and a couple other species, also visited the hot-pink blossoms of a few nearby purple loosestrife plants along the shore of the Conestoga. They were there, of course, to sip nectar from the blooms of those bushy, Old-World plants that can be invasive.
Both those common kinds of butterflies are abundant in this area, adding much life to hay fields. Those butterflies, too, are from Europe, but I don't know how they got to America.
As I continued to drive along, I passed red clover and alfalfa hay fields that had not been mowed lately and were full of flowers. The clover had pink blooms while the alfalfa had purple ones with a sweet fragrance. Clover and alfalfa are also originally from the Old Country. Swarms of cabbage whites and yellow sulphurs, plus a few native monarch butterflies and worker bumble bees, were all over those flowers to get nectar and pollen, fertilizing the blossoms in the process. Those insects really were a sight to see.
Continuing to drive along, I also saw some hay fields that had recently been cut. A large flock of over a hundred rock pigeons, and several of their relatives, the native mourning doves, were in one of those harvested hay fields to glean weed seeds from the ground. Pigeons are from Eurasia, but were brought to America as a meat and egg bird, as well as a sporting bird. Some pigeons escaped captivity many years ago and have been wild in America since.
After that encounter with the pigeons and doves, I went home. But I was reminded of how many plants and wild animals from Europe live in this cultivated county, and over much of the United States.
As I drove by a pasture and feedlot with several young, holstein cows in it, I noticed over a hundred house sparrows perched on a large patch of foxtail grass near the road. I stopped to get better looks of those scores of sparrows feeding on the seeds of that tall grass that is also originally from Europe. The grass grew wild and is now a tremendous food source to seed-eating, small birds through fall and winter.
While still parked at the foxtail grass patch, I took closer notice of the cattle feedlot. About a dozen European starlings where helping themselves to the food in the feed troughs, one of the reasons starlings are so abundant the year round here.
Driving on, I came to a loose gathering of colorful bantam chickens right along another country road. There were small groups, here and there, of hens and roosters, families of half-grown chicks already on their own, and a couple broods of small peeps with their mothers. All those small, attractive chickens were feeding on grasshoppers, crickets, weed seeds and waste grain as I drove by slowly. A few of the bantams crossed the road in front of my car, but I was able to avoid them.
All breeds of domestic chickens, including bantams, are descended from the red jungle fowl of southeast Asia. Some farmers here in Lancaster County let chickens run free, including bantams. It's interesting to see how those free-roaming chickens behave when feeding and socializing across fields and lawns.
I saw several cabbage white and yellow sulphur butterflies puddling in mud along the edge of the Conestoga River, which might seem an unusual behavior for butterflies. Butterflies use their straw-like mouths to get salt and minerals from the mud, nutrition they don't get from flower nectar or pollen.
Those same kinds of butterflies, and a couple other species, also visited the hot-pink blossoms of a few nearby purple loosestrife plants along the shore of the Conestoga. They were there, of course, to sip nectar from the blooms of those bushy, Old-World plants that can be invasive.
Both those common kinds of butterflies are abundant in this area, adding much life to hay fields. Those butterflies, too, are from Europe, but I don't know how they got to America.
As I continued to drive along, I passed red clover and alfalfa hay fields that had not been mowed lately and were full of flowers. The clover had pink blooms while the alfalfa had purple ones with a sweet fragrance. Clover and alfalfa are also originally from the Old Country. Swarms of cabbage whites and yellow sulphurs, plus a few native monarch butterflies and worker bumble bees, were all over those flowers to get nectar and pollen, fertilizing the blossoms in the process. Those insects really were a sight to see.
Continuing to drive along, I also saw some hay fields that had recently been cut. A large flock of over a hundred rock pigeons, and several of their relatives, the native mourning doves, were in one of those harvested hay fields to glean weed seeds from the ground. Pigeons are from Eurasia, but were brought to America as a meat and egg bird, as well as a sporting bird. Some pigeons escaped captivity many years ago and have been wild in America since.
After that encounter with the pigeons and doves, I went home. But I was reminded of how many plants and wild animals from Europe live in this cultivated county, and over much of the United States.
Two Moles
One time a few years ago, I was sitting along the shore of a creek and marsh when I saw the short vegetation near my feet heaving and moving. Slightly startled, I watched it for a few seconds when a pink, fleshy nose with several short tenacles emerged from the soil as if from a horror movie. I quickly realized that the nose was that of a star-nosed mole, a very unusual little creature, but well built for its role in life.
Two species of moles live here in southeastern Pennsylvania, eastern and star-nosed. And, again, although they are oddly built, their bodies are perfectly constructed for their way of life in the ground. They have broad, scaled front feet and long, strong claws for digging tunnels through the soil. They live in those protective burrows and there they find their food of earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates as they dig. Both species are a little more than six inches long, weigh two to three ounces and have dense, grayish-black, soft fur. Their eyes are small and can only perceive daylight or dark. Their ears are under their fur to keep the soil out, but they have good hearing.
Females of each kind deliver one litter of young each year, with about four babies in each litter. The youngsters are two inches long and hairless at birth, and dependent on their mothers for about four weeks.
The moles' best developed sense is touch, particularly on their snouts. They can "visualize" their surroundings with their noses and determine what is edible. Moles are beneficial because they ingest lots of insect larvae, like Japanese beetles, in the ground as they tunnel along.
Several kinds of predators feed on moles. They include the larger hawks and owls, mink, cats, coyotes, and, in the case of the star-noses, larger fish when that mole is foraging for food in water.
Eastern moles live in the eastern part of the United States. They prefer loamy soils for easier digging and live in woods, meadows and lawns, though they are seldom welcome on lawns because of the little hills they make in the turf. However, their diggings allow air and oxygen into the soil, which is important to the health of vegetation. And rain water follows mole burrows into the ground.
Star-nosed moles live in low, moist habitats in the northeastern part of the United States and southeastern Canada. Their fur is water-repellent, an adaptation to their damp habitat. This type of mole can swim and often forages for food on the bottoms of streams and ponds, as well as on nearby soil.
Although both of these kinds of moles are unusual in build, the most bizarre feature on the one mole, of course, is the star nose on the mole species of that name. The star is composed of 22 fleshy, movable appendages, or rays, that ring the nose and are sensitive touch organs. They may look weird to us, but they serve the same purpose as our finger tips. And those 22 rays are in front of the body to sense things just as the moles approach those objects in the ground or water.
Moles are interesting little animals, mainly because of how their bodily features have adapted to their specific niches. They deserve our respect and should not be killed just because they make tunnels and hills on some lawns. And they eat harmful beetle grubs that could cause more damage than the moles themselves do.
Two species of moles live here in southeastern Pennsylvania, eastern and star-nosed. And, again, although they are oddly built, their bodies are perfectly constructed for their way of life in the ground. They have broad, scaled front feet and long, strong claws for digging tunnels through the soil. They live in those protective burrows and there they find their food of earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates as they dig. Both species are a little more than six inches long, weigh two to three ounces and have dense, grayish-black, soft fur. Their eyes are small and can only perceive daylight or dark. Their ears are under their fur to keep the soil out, but they have good hearing.
Females of each kind deliver one litter of young each year, with about four babies in each litter. The youngsters are two inches long and hairless at birth, and dependent on their mothers for about four weeks.
The moles' best developed sense is touch, particularly on their snouts. They can "visualize" their surroundings with their noses and determine what is edible. Moles are beneficial because they ingest lots of insect larvae, like Japanese beetles, in the ground as they tunnel along.
Several kinds of predators feed on moles. They include the larger hawks and owls, mink, cats, coyotes, and, in the case of the star-noses, larger fish when that mole is foraging for food in water.
Eastern moles live in the eastern part of the United States. They prefer loamy soils for easier digging and live in woods, meadows and lawns, though they are seldom welcome on lawns because of the little hills they make in the turf. However, their diggings allow air and oxygen into the soil, which is important to the health of vegetation. And rain water follows mole burrows into the ground.
Star-nosed moles live in low, moist habitats in the northeastern part of the United States and southeastern Canada. Their fur is water-repellent, an adaptation to their damp habitat. This type of mole can swim and often forages for food on the bottoms of streams and ponds, as well as on nearby soil.
Although both of these kinds of moles are unusual in build, the most bizarre feature on the one mole, of course, is the star nose on the mole species of that name. The star is composed of 22 fleshy, movable appendages, or rays, that ring the nose and are sensitive touch organs. They may look weird to us, but they serve the same purpose as our finger tips. And those 22 rays are in front of the body to sense things just as the moles approach those objects in the ground or water.
Moles are interesting little animals, mainly because of how their bodily features have adapted to their specific niches. They deserve our respect and should not be killed just because they make tunnels and hills on some lawns. And they eat harmful beetle grubs that could cause more damage than the moles themselves do.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
North Woods Midget Birds
Winter wrens, golden-crowned kinglets and ruby-crowned kinglets are all species of tiny birds that nest in northern coniferous forests in North America. All these birds are about four inches long, lively, cute and have relatives in Europe and Asia. Each species is camouflaged in its niche. All feed mostly on small invertebrates and their eggs, and they all have small, thin beaks to tweezer their food out of hiding.
All three species are very active in getting their invertebrate food. The kinglets are interesting to watch as they almost constantly dart and hover here and there among twigs of the trees as they inspect each twig for food. They are almost impossible to see with binoculars. The wrens almost incessantly scurry across fallen leaf litter on forest floors after invertebrates. They are often difficult to see at all and sometimes I wonder if I really did see one, or just imagined it.
Male wrens and ruby-crowns have loud songs so genders of each species can find each other in the thickets of woodlands. All pass through the Middle Atlantic States in their spring and fall migrations. Sometimes I see a small group of ruby-crowns inspecting the twigs of a bush or two in our back yard. A few individuals of each species winter here as well.
Winter wrens are dark-brown with black barring which allows them to blend into their brown, fallen leaf cover niche on the forest floor. This little bird is often puffed out, like a feathered ball with a short, upright tail. Winter wrens raise about six young per brood in holes in trees close to the ground, crevices between rocks and low in bushes in coniferous woods across Canada, in New England and down the Appalachian Mountains.
Winter wrens winter in woods and thickets, usually near streams in the southeastern quarter of the United States. They spend winter nights tucked away in some sheltered place in the woods where they avoid cold winds and snow. And year around, wherever they may be, winter wrens creep across the leaf cover, into rock crevices and under logs and brush piles like feathered mice after small invertebrates.
Golden-crowned kinglets breed in coniferous woods across Canada and down the Appalachian and Rocky Mountains. Each female makes a hanging cup on the end of a coniferous branch where she lays about six eggs.
Golden-crowns winter in woods and thickets in most of the United States. Here in the east, a few golden-crowns join troops of chickadees and titmice as those birds roam through the woods to get invertebrate food.
Golden-crowns are olive in color, with yellow in their wings and tails. They have two vertical, white bars on each wing and males have orange crowns while their mates have yellow ones. The crowns on both genders are bordered by black, making the warm colors even more attractive.
Ruby-crowns resemble their golden-crowned relatives, except in the present species the males have red crowns and both genders have a white ring around each large, dark eye. Ruby-crowns nest in coniferous forests across Canada and Alaska, in New England and down the Rocky Mountains. They winter in thickets and woods across the southern half of the United States.
This autumn, winter and spring, watch for these tiny, but pretty, birds in woods, thickets and older suburban areas where they search for invertebrates and their eggs. Like chickadees and other birds, they can help make a winter day more bearable. And its interesting to know where they spend the summer raising young.
All three species are very active in getting their invertebrate food. The kinglets are interesting to watch as they almost constantly dart and hover here and there among twigs of the trees as they inspect each twig for food. They are almost impossible to see with binoculars. The wrens almost incessantly scurry across fallen leaf litter on forest floors after invertebrates. They are often difficult to see at all and sometimes I wonder if I really did see one, or just imagined it.
Male wrens and ruby-crowns have loud songs so genders of each species can find each other in the thickets of woodlands. All pass through the Middle Atlantic States in their spring and fall migrations. Sometimes I see a small group of ruby-crowns inspecting the twigs of a bush or two in our back yard. A few individuals of each species winter here as well.
Winter wrens are dark-brown with black barring which allows them to blend into their brown, fallen leaf cover niche on the forest floor. This little bird is often puffed out, like a feathered ball with a short, upright tail. Winter wrens raise about six young per brood in holes in trees close to the ground, crevices between rocks and low in bushes in coniferous woods across Canada, in New England and down the Appalachian Mountains.
Winter wrens winter in woods and thickets, usually near streams in the southeastern quarter of the United States. They spend winter nights tucked away in some sheltered place in the woods where they avoid cold winds and snow. And year around, wherever they may be, winter wrens creep across the leaf cover, into rock crevices and under logs and brush piles like feathered mice after small invertebrates.
Golden-crowned kinglets breed in coniferous woods across Canada and down the Appalachian and Rocky Mountains. Each female makes a hanging cup on the end of a coniferous branch where she lays about six eggs.
Golden-crowns winter in woods and thickets in most of the United States. Here in the east, a few golden-crowns join troops of chickadees and titmice as those birds roam through the woods to get invertebrate food.
Golden-crowns are olive in color, with yellow in their wings and tails. They have two vertical, white bars on each wing and males have orange crowns while their mates have yellow ones. The crowns on both genders are bordered by black, making the warm colors even more attractive.
Ruby-crowns resemble their golden-crowned relatives, except in the present species the males have red crowns and both genders have a white ring around each large, dark eye. Ruby-crowns nest in coniferous forests across Canada and Alaska, in New England and down the Rocky Mountains. They winter in thickets and woods across the southern half of the United States.
This autumn, winter and spring, watch for these tiny, but pretty, birds in woods, thickets and older suburban areas where they search for invertebrates and their eggs. Like chickadees and other birds, they can help make a winter day more bearable. And its interesting to know where they spend the summer raising young.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Cottontails and Snowshoes
Cottontail rabbits and snowshoe hares live in Pennsylvania, as through much of the rest of North America. They are related to each other and other species of their mutual clan of mammals, but rabbits and hares have branched, each type having characteristics of its own. Cottontails and snowshoes represent different experiments within their group for survival.
Both these species are mostly nocturnal and eat a variety of vegetation the year around. They have long ears for excellent hearing, big eyes on the sides of their heads to see all around themselves at once, stubby tails, and long back legs for hopping fast and far to escape predators, which include golden eagles, horned owls, coyotes, red foxes, lynx and other creatures. But these rabbit relatives have differences between them as well.
Cottontails are common in the eastern two-thirds of the United States. There they are most likely to dwell in thickets along woodland edges, and in hedgerows between fields, overgrown fields and suburban areas. Each individual hides by day in a brush pile, under bushes, vines and matted tall grass, or a hole in the ground.
Each female cottontail has up to four litters a year, from March to September. There could be as many as six young in a brood. Rabbit babies are born blind, naked and helpless, which makes them vulnerable to predators. Their mothers deliver them in a hidden, protected place and are cautious when approaching the young to nurse them. Each mother places a blanket of chewed grass and fur pulled from her belly to protect her offspring from the weather and critters who would eat her young. The youngsters leave their protective nurseries in a few weeks, fully furred and with their eyes open. They are now ready to feed themselves and detect and escape predators, though some of them are caught and eaten.
Snowshoe hares live in boreal forests across much of Canada and Alaska and down the Appalachian and Rocky Mountain ranges. Each one weighs about three pounds, which is larger than the cottontails. They eat succulent plants in summer, but twigs, buds and bark in winter when that is all that is available to them.
Snowshoes are brown in summer to blend into their surroundings to be invisible, and white in winter for camouflage. They are mottled brown and white in spring and autumn when they are shedding old fur for new. And, as their name implies, they have really large back feet, like snowshoes, for better traveling over snow without sinking into it and getting caught by hungry predators. Those big feet spread the weight of the hares, as snowshoes do.
Female hares have two or three litters of young a year, from April to August, with three to four babies in a brood. Females don't make nurseries for their young, but deposit them in a slight depression in the fallen leaf cover of the forest floor. The young are born with brown fur, which camouflages them on the leaves, and their eyes open. Within a few days they leave their "cradles" to feed and fend for themselves.
Cottontail rabbits and snowshoe hares represent how a family of animals unknowingly experiments with different aids to survival. Some work, some don't. But both their ways seem to work for rabbits, so far.
Both these species are mostly nocturnal and eat a variety of vegetation the year around. They have long ears for excellent hearing, big eyes on the sides of their heads to see all around themselves at once, stubby tails, and long back legs for hopping fast and far to escape predators, which include golden eagles, horned owls, coyotes, red foxes, lynx and other creatures. But these rabbit relatives have differences between them as well.
Cottontails are common in the eastern two-thirds of the United States. There they are most likely to dwell in thickets along woodland edges, and in hedgerows between fields, overgrown fields and suburban areas. Each individual hides by day in a brush pile, under bushes, vines and matted tall grass, or a hole in the ground.
Each female cottontail has up to four litters a year, from March to September. There could be as many as six young in a brood. Rabbit babies are born blind, naked and helpless, which makes them vulnerable to predators. Their mothers deliver them in a hidden, protected place and are cautious when approaching the young to nurse them. Each mother places a blanket of chewed grass and fur pulled from her belly to protect her offspring from the weather and critters who would eat her young. The youngsters leave their protective nurseries in a few weeks, fully furred and with their eyes open. They are now ready to feed themselves and detect and escape predators, though some of them are caught and eaten.
Snowshoe hares live in boreal forests across much of Canada and Alaska and down the Appalachian and Rocky Mountain ranges. Each one weighs about three pounds, which is larger than the cottontails. They eat succulent plants in summer, but twigs, buds and bark in winter when that is all that is available to them.
Snowshoes are brown in summer to blend into their surroundings to be invisible, and white in winter for camouflage. They are mottled brown and white in spring and autumn when they are shedding old fur for new. And, as their name implies, they have really large back feet, like snowshoes, for better traveling over snow without sinking into it and getting caught by hungry predators. Those big feet spread the weight of the hares, as snowshoes do.
Female hares have two or three litters of young a year, from April to August, with three to four babies in a brood. Females don't make nurseries for their young, but deposit them in a slight depression in the fallen leaf cover of the forest floor. The young are born with brown fur, which camouflages them on the leaves, and their eyes open. Within a few days they leave their "cradles" to feed and fend for themselves.
Cottontail rabbits and snowshoe hares represent how a family of animals unknowingly experiments with different aids to survival. Some work, some don't. But both their ways seem to work for rabbits, so far.
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