Arctic Raptors Come South

     In December of 2013, my wife and I rode through snow-covered, Lancaster County farmland around our home in New Holland to spot snowy owls that had been reported in our area.  We found three that afternoon, two of them within a hundred yards of each other.  Those two were perched on the snow in cold wind and one was eating a dead snow geese that it either killed itself or was scavenging.  What a wild scene in civilized Lancaster County; two snowy owls on snow and one owl eating an Arctic tundra-born goose.  The owl stood on the goose, as if protecting its meal from other scavengers, as it tore off chunks of meat and swallowed them whole.  No species of bird has teeth. 
     We here in southeastern Pennsylvania are occasionally treated to sightings of Arctic tundra raptors, including rough-legged hawks, snowy owls and gyrfalcons, in that order of sighting frequencies, during some winters.  These birds of prey nest on the tundra, but drift south during certain winters in their searches for prey.  Only the rough-legs do so annually.  And when wintering in this part of Pennsylvania, as elsewhere, all these raptors reside in the vast open spaces of this area's cropland, which, to them, is reminescent of the tundra where they hatched.  And to us human residents here, they are representatives of the Far North, Inuits and polar bears. 
     Rough-legged hawks nest on cliffs in the Arctic.  They prey mostly on lemmings, which are much like field mice.  But in late autumn they drift south to open spaces in Canada and the northern United States.  Here in southeastern Pennsylvania they either perch in lone trees in large fields or hover into the wind on beating wings to watch for mice and small birds, including the abundant horned larks.
    Rough-legs are beautiful hawks with dark bodies, tawny heads and white bases to their tails.  Some individuals are almost black all over.  They can easily be distinguished from their larger, stronger cousins, the red-tailed hawks.
     Rough-legs used to be common in southeastern Pennsylvania in winter, until red-tails became more abundant, particularly in winter.  I think rough-legs lost the competition with their more aggressive cousins for feeding territories here in winter and so now are fairly scarce.  But now it is more of a treat to see one or more of these arctic hawks in our winter croplands.
     The magnificent snowy owls winter this far south only every four or five years, and then only one or a few are present.  But they were quite common here in southeastern Pennsylvania during the winter of 2013-14.  In Lancaster County alone, we saw several snowies perched on snow and fences in the larger fields. 
     Snowy owls are also dependent on lemmings for food, but will catch and eat any other creature they can easily handle.  As lemming populations build, so do snowy owl numbers because when male owls court their mates they bring her lemming gifts to eat.  The more of those rodents he brings, the more eggs she lays, up to eight, in her cradle on the ground.  And there are plenty of lemmings to feed all those owlets. 
     But if lemmings are not numerous, the males ingest all they snare, give no gifts to their mates and those female snowies lay no eggs at all that year.  That practice is a built-in birth control.  And it's after a lemming numbers crash that many snowy owls, particularly younger birds, drift south for the winter in hopes of finding enough critters to survive until spring when they go north again.  But many migrant snowies, especially the young, don't survive to make the trip north.   
     Snowy owls are mostly white with many dark speckles on younger birds and females.  Adult males have very little speckling on their white plumage.  That feathering, of course, camouflages the owls on snow.
     Wintering gyrfalcons are rarely as far south as southeastern Pennsylvania, but we get one or two here some winters.  But a couple winters in a row in the early 1980's saw at least three stately gyrs in Lancaster County alone.  Two of them spent nights on the rocky cliffs of a quarry.  Watching them come in to the quarry for the night was exciting and inspiring.  Sometimes we would see one or both approaching the quarry in a low, fast glide over the fields, sweep into the quarry, swing around inside the cliffs and finally land on a rock ledge.  They did all that with scarcely a wing beat!  
     During each winter day, the gyrs hunted rock pigeons and other, larger birds in extensive cropland.  Often they perched on top of lone trees in fields to watch for prey.  Then they ambushed their intended victims with lightning speed.  Those habits are reminders of their life on the tundra.  They raise young on cliffs and hunt birds across the treeless tundra.
     Gyrs are either white with dark markings or smoky gray all over, with darker spotting.  Both colors of feathering camouflages them in their habitats. 
     Gyrs are the largest of falcons, being larger than crows.  And they are swift, powerful flyers, forcing prey birds to the ground where they kill and eat them.        
     Look for these Arctic raptors in wide, open spaces this winter, or succeeding ones.  They are exciting and inspiring to experience.  And they are a bit of tundra come south.      

Waterways

     Scenic, delightful waterways are products of precipitation and the lay of the land.  Precipitation falls to Earth, seeps downhill by the force of gravity through soil, sand or rock and emerges from them as trickles on the ground in valleys between various sized slopes.  Those tiny rivulets, where sphagnum moss and certain kinds of salamanders live here in eastern North America, for example, eventually join to produce little brooks that come together to form streams that merge to create creeks, then rivers and estuaries before entering the oceans.  Watersheds look like bare deciduous trees, with the tiny twigs being the rivulets and the trunks being the rivers going into oceans of soil.
     Crayfish and stream-lined minnows live in the cold, clear fast-moving brooks.  Suckers and trout reside in bouncing, musical streams.  Dippers and Louisiana waterthrushes are small birds that raise young in stream banks and catch aquatic invertebrates to feed their young.
      Eels born in the Atlantic Ocean come up rivers in North America and Europe to feed, grow up and make the trip down the rivers to spawn in the ocean.  Salmon, on the other hand, hatch in streams, go down rivers to the oceans where they mature then come back up rivers and streams where they hatched to spawn and die.  
     Meanwhile, the sun's energy and wind constantly pull some of that water as it flows along waterways back into the sky where it forms clouds of water vapor.  Eventually that vapor condenses and falls again as rain, snow or sleet, continuing the water cycle.
     That precipitation, the water cycle and the waterways it produces sustains life on Earth.  All life needs water to survive.  Fish, tadpoles, many kinds of insect larvae, a whole host of other aquatic creatures and water plants live in the water, including waterways large and small.  Mink, herons, bald eagles, certain ducks and other critters catch and eat fish and other aquatic life.
     Some North American beavers and muskrats dig tunnels in stream banks at the normal water level, then dip up to create a living chamber to avoid being flooded out by higher water.  The beaver homes, of course, are much larger than those of the muskrats.  And, as we know, beavers' dams transform streams and brooks into ponds where frogs, muskrats and dragonflies live.  
     People use water to sustain life and for recreation.  We like to swim, fish, water ski, ski, ice skate and recreate in other ways in precipitation.  Waterways, impoundments and oceans add much to the beauty of scenery, as does a snow-covered landscape.
     We people have built cities along larger waterways, estuaries and oceans.  There we have drinking and washing water, and for industry.  There we can handily catch and eat fish and shellfish.  And many people build homes along waterways and impoundments for the beautiful scenery and recreation they provide.  But this can be a dangerous practice because of the threat of flooding. 
     We have had handy routes of transportation in the form of boats on the water from the early days of the first civilizations to the present day.  Greeks, Romans and other ancient cultures had ships on the Mediterranean Sea.  Early Scandinavians built large, canoe-like ships of oak that could sail the oceans and navigate shallow rivers.  The first Americans had canoes made of birch bark or hollowed-out logs.  Today we still have canoes, rowboats and boats with engines, mostly for recreation on creeks and rivers.  We even taxi aircraft on rivers for take off.
     Early wooden, sailing ships carried people and merchandise across much of the world, using the wind's power to push those ships across the oceans and estuaries.  Nature, including trees, wind and water made early shipping possible.  And some of those early ships were beautifully built.  Vikings, for example, had dragon heads and tails sculpted before and after their ships to intimidate other peoples, as well as to express their feelings of their power.    
     Waterways have always been beautiful, fascinating and essential to people and all of nature.  They are always a pleasure to visit.    




     

Peace

     One way of having peace of mind is to accept and love things and people just as they are.  You don't have to like everything they do, but know you can't change them.

Winter Greens

     Though winter in the Middle Atlantic States is generally regarded as a drab season with little color, there is lots of color if we look more intently for it.  Clear skies are still blue and clouds are gray or white.  Deciduous tree trunks are gray and tall grasses are yellow, beige or brown.  And many kinds of berries are red or orange.  But green, even in winter, is a dominant color on the ground in this area, whether snow is on the ground or not.  And green, even in winter, represents life to us humans.  Winter green is comforting to many of us weary of snow, ice and winter in general with its shorter periods of daylight each day.   
     Our suburban areas are the most green habitats in this area when snow is on the ground.  There planted coniferous trees, southern magnolia trees and American holly trees lend much green to our lawns, even when snow is on the ground and those trees.  And if the winter is mild with periods of no snow, the short grass of each lawn is still green with hardy life.
     Though deciduous forests are almost completely gray, except for sprinklings of dead, beige beech leaves still clinging to their twig moorings and carpets of dead, brown leaves on the forest floors when not snow covered, closer looks will reveal small, subtle patches of green on or near those woodland floors.  Patches of great rhododendron and mountain laurel in the shrub layers of deciduous woods are green with the leaves they retain through winter.  Some woods here have a few, scattered American holly trees with their evergreen foliage.
     And there are several kinds of small plants on certain forest floors that are green all winter.  The common Christmas ferns and poly-pody ferns are two of those plants.  Christmas ferns are large, have deep-green leaves and grow on slopes of forest floors.  Poly-podies, however, are small and grow in thin layers of soil and decaying leaves on top of boulders and rocky soil in the woods.  Poly-pody means many "feet", referring to the many small rootlets needed to grip the thin soil on rock.
     A few common, widespread species of fern relatives, called lycopods, are also green on some forest floors all winter.  Ferns and their relatives are an ancient group of plants that were far more dominant in the past than they are today.  At present, they are much like their ancestors, but much smaller.  However, in the Carboniferous Age of 200 to 300 million years ago, ferns and their allies were so large and numerous, like trees today, their dead and decaying vegetation in swamp muck became today's coal deposits.
     Some common lycopods today growing just inches above some of our forest floors are crow's-foot, ground pine and shining club moss.  The closely related crow's-foot and ground pine are similar in appearance, the former resembling birds' toes and the latter looking like tiny coniferous trees.  Both these plants inhabit the drier soils of bottomlands.
     Shining club moss is not a moss, but it is a bit moss-like.  This plant grows up to four inches tall in constantly moist soil, particularly along tiny trickles and puddles of water on bottomland forest floors.  And this lycopod has many tiny, shiny leaves along each stem from top to bottom.  
     A variety of lichens and mosses are also green in winter and are noticeable when not buried in snow.  Lichens are flat patches of fungi and alga growing together, mostly on rocks and boulders.  Fungi gives lichens body while the green alga uses sunlight to make food for both the fungi and itself, an example of a symbiotic relationship.
     Moss grows on boulders, bark and from the soil.  Sphagnum moss is a larger, spongy moss that grows along trickles and pools on forest floors, sometimes filling the puddles with itself.
     In winter, too, if there is no snow on the ground, some extensive fields are deep-green with living, growing winter rye, an important and useful crop planted by farmers in fall after harvests.  Rye holds down the soil, uses carbon dioxide to grow, takes nitrogen from the air and puts it into the soil, enriching it, and puts oxygen into the air.  Cattle and horses graze on rye, and wild geese and swans eat it, too.  Eventually rye is plowed under to enrich the soil further, or it might be left to grow.  The resulting grain is harvested and sold and the stems are baled to be bedding for livestock in barns in winter. 
      There are other green plants in milder winters, including young sprouts of ground ivy, garlic, garlic mustard, stinging nettles and poison hemlock plants.  Their green presence adds another bit of color and cheer to local, winter landscapes. 
     Yes, there is a lot of green in winter in the Middle Atlantic States, as elsewhere in North America.  That green is delightful to see in winter, a mostly dormant, and potentially depressing, time of the year. 

Accipiter and Falcon Counterparts

     Accipiters and falcons are two branches of the hawk family.  They are different from each other because they developed in different habitats.  Accipiters have short, rounded wings and long tails for flying swiftly and steering quickly among the trees of woodlands they're adapted to.  Falcons have long, pointed wings for sweeping along at great speed in the open habitats they developed in.
     All the accipiters and most of the falcons catch, kill and eat birds of varying sizes.  The bigger birds of prey snaring the larger birds in their strong, sharp talons.
     Interestingly, accipiters and falcons each have three species, of diverse sizes, that regularly live part of each year here in southeastern Pennsylvania, as elsewhere across much of North America.  Each size of accipiter has a counterpart among the falcons.  For example, sharp-shinned hawks are the smallest of accipiters while American kestrels are the most diminutive of falcons.  Both species live here the year around, the sharpies in woods and older suburbs with their many trees and the kestrels in farmland.  Sharp-shins nest in stick platforms on tree limbs in the woods and suburbs, while kestrels hatch young in tree cavities and nest boxes erected for them in farmland.  Kestrels consume mostly mice and larger insects they find in fields and along country roadsides.
     Cooper's hawks and merlins are the medium-sized species of their respective hawk families.  They both snare and ingest birds, the permanent resident coop's mostly in woods and suburbs, but sometimes in fields as well, while wintering merlins catch horned larks and other sparrow and dove -sized birds from open fields with little, or short, vegetation.
     Cooper's hawks nest on stick platforms on tree branches in local woods and suburbs, where they also get a lot of their food.  But Coop's are also adapting to catching pigeon-sized birds in fields near those wooded habitats, including a few kestrels at times.
     Merlins raise offspring in woods on the southern edge of the Arctic tundra, but migrate south for the winter, mostly along seacoasts.  Recently, merlins discovered the wide open fields of this part of the United States and some of them are now wintering here increasingly each succeeding winter.
     Goshawks and peregrine falcons are the largest species of their respective families.  Goshawks raise youngsters in the forests of Canada and Alaska but winter in woods from there south into the northern United States, including in southeastern Pennsylvania during some winters.  There they catch jays, crows, grouse and other kinds of larger birds they find in woodlands.   
     Peregrines nest on cliffs overlooking rivers, but have also adapted to hatching young in nurseries on tall buildings in cities and under bridges spanning rivers in much of the world.  The open country peregrines snare rock pigeons, mourning doves, a variety of ducks and other kinds of larger birds in the fields and along rivers.              
     All these interesting, counterpart, hawks are adapting to using human-made habitats for wintering grounds and nesting.  They are becoming more common here in southeastern Pennsylvania, much to the delight of birders and non-birders alike.  Look for them in the woods, fields and suburbs of this region, and other places in North America.  They can add excitement to a day.     

Seeing Nests in Winter

     I see many nests in bare deciduous trees and shrubs in winter in southeastern Pennsylvania.  Those nests were built by a variety of creatures to serve as homes and nurseries.  And those structures show what animals are living in an area and how abundant they might be.
     The leafy, ball homes of the abundant gray squirrels are often the most commonly seen of structures in tree tops.  It seems that where gray squirrels can't find tree cavities to live in, particularly in older suburban areas with their many tall trees, but few hollows because they have been pruned out, they build homes of leaves that look like a bushel-basket-sized balls of dead foliage in the deciduous tree tops.  Each squirrel curls up in its leafy house each night and I am sure is warm and comfortable in the layers of its own fur and the compacted dead leaves that block the wind and retain its body heat.
     Many bird nests can be spotted in winter when trees and shrubs are bare.  Some of the more notable are the large, stick platforms of American crows, great blue and black-crowned night herons, red-tailed hawks, bald eagles and great horned owls in the tree tops of woods, suburbs and fields.  Crows and herons generally make their nurseries themselves, but hawks, eagles and owls usurp those cradles as early as January each year, displacing the original feathered contractors.
     A few notable small bird nurseries are those of American robins, American goldfinches, gray catbirds, northern cardinals and Baltimore orioles.  Robin nests are common in younger trees in the suburbs and quite familiar.  Dainty goldfinch nurseries, built of thistle fluff, fine grasses and spider webs, are works of art on sapling trees and in bushes in suburbs and fields near patches of thistle plants.  They get fluff for their cradles from the thistles and thistle seeds to feed their youngsters in the middle of summer.         
     Catbirds and cardinals build their nurseries deep in nearly impenetrable thickets of bushes and vines in hedgerows, woodland edges and suburban areas.  Their cradles are made of twigs and lined with soft grasses.
     But the most beautiful and intricate of birds' nests are those of Baltimore orioles.  Each one is a deep pouch of woven vines, rootlets and grasses suspended securely from a twig on the edge of a tree in a meadow, field or lawn and swinging gracefully in the wind.  Some oriole nests are suspended over water or roads.
     And the miraculous, paper nests of bald-faced hornets are attractive suspended on an outer twig of a deciduous tree on the edge of a woods or a lawn.  Hornets make those football-sized nests by scraping dead wood off trees or fences with their sharp jaws, mixing that wood with their saliva and adding the mixture to the developing hornet home.  During heavy frosts in fall, however, the queen hornet leaves her paper home and buries into the soil to spend the winter safe from cold.  All the worker hornets and drones of the year die.  The next spring, however, the surviving queens start new paper houses, the construction of which is continued by each one's increasing number of offspring through the summer.
     This winter, and succeeding ones, look for a variety of nests in deciduous trees and shrubbery.  They are as beautiful and interesting as the creatures that built them.           

Christmas Trees, Broom Grass and Wildlife

     Many Christmas tree plantations have been planted in the hillier, rockier sections of southeastern Pennsylvania, as well as in other parts of the United States.  They are a unique, human-made habitat with much natural beauty.  And there is a particular coniferous tree farm on a sunny slope close to home that I like to visit once every few winters for its beauty of young, pyramid-shaped trees and whatever wildlife might be around.  I visited that conifer farm again just a few days ago and was treated to the beauty of the trees, the scenery around them and the wildlife living among them.  
     This plantation is over 100 acres of young spruces and firs surrounded by deciduous woods and picturesque scenery of woodlands and agricultural areas in southeastern Pennsylvania.  The ground between the trees is covered everywhere by golden-beige, three-foot-tall broom grass, which makes a striking contrast among the green conifers and provides more shelter and food for wildlife.  Several dead, fluffy seed heads of goldenrod poke up among the broom grass, offering yet another touch of winter beauty.  Those goldenrod plants had yellow flower heads, swarming with bees, butterflies and other kinds of insects during late summer and well into autumn.
     Several kinds of small birds fluttered among the evergreens, broom grass and goldenrod during the hour and a half I visited this Christmas tree farm.  I estimated there were about two dozen lovely eastern bluebirds that alternated between perching on the very tips of the conifers across the tree farm and dropping to the ground to seize and eat invertebrates they found among the broom grass the warm afternoon I was there.  Needless to say, the bluebirds were a beautiful sight.
     Several dark-eyed juncos flitted among the conifers they hide in, the white V's of their tails flashing briefly as they flew.  I have always thought that wintering juncos are THEE birds of planted stands of younger coniferous trees.  They shelter among those needled trees and consume nearby weed and grass seeds, as these juncos were doing as I watched them.       
     There also were little groups of American goldfinches and house finches among the immature evergreens during the time I visited that Christmas tree farm.  They, too, shelter among needled boughs, as they also do in thickets of deciduous shrubbery and vines, and ingest weed and grass seeds from patches of those plants near stands of conifers and bushes. 
     I saw a handsome red-tailed hawk perched in a tree on the edge of a deciduous woodland bordering those acres of conifers.  That hawk was looking for white-footed mice in the woods and field mice among the broom grass of the coniferous tree farm.  I imagine that great horned owls and red foxes prowl among the conifers at night in their searches for mice and voles.  And I can visualize a group of stately white-tailed deer emerging from the bordering woods and into the evergreen plantation at night to graze on grass.
     Human-made habitats, including Christmas tree plantations, have benefits for certain species of adaptable wildlife.  Hurray for adaptable wild plants and animals.  They help make life more interesting and enjoyable.      

Winter Solstice- For 2016

     For the last few days here in southeastern Pennsylvania, we have had dreary, dismal days  with gray skies and little wind.  We haven't had real cold or snow yet, but cool, damp, even rainy weather, as the late afternoons became nearly dark.  During the last few days, local woods, fields, waterways and impoundments are dark, silent and seemingly lifeless, as if waiting for spring's coming.  They are not lifeless, but much of life is dormant and out of sight to escape the hardships of winter.
     This is the bottom of the year in the northern hemisphere when there is the least amount of daylight each day.  It's almost like the end of the world.  But it's really the end of another natural year. Biological New Year's Eve is December 21 and New Year's Day is December 22 in the northern hemisphere.   December 22 is a day to celebrate because it heralds the first day of the coming of spring when daylight each succeeding day will get longer, bringing with it increased warmth and new life.
     But I still embrace the gloom and early darkness of this time of year while it is here because it is part of the scheme of all things natural, and after the Winter Solstice comes longer periods of daylight each succeeding day and spring.  And there is a certain beauty and unbridled wildness in the early darkness and gloom that veils details of landscape, and the fleeting time of life's dormancy. 
     But some life is active through winter, right up to the gathering darkness of late afternoon each winter day.  Deciduous and coniferous trees are silhouetted black against gray, darkening skies.  Canada geese and mallard ducks fly up from ponds and creeks and are silhouetted against gray clouds or the sunset as they wing swiftly to feeding fields.  Groups of mourning doves, rock pigeons, American crows and ring-billed gulls going to their nightly roosting places are also silhouetted against the late afternoon sky as it darkens.
     Even chilling rain and snow, or fog, add to the beauty of this time of year, making it even more dismal, but natural and unique.  However, we know that dreariness is only temporary.  And we can more fully appreciate the long days of lovely, warm sunlight in the coming spring after we have experienced dreary, mid-winter days of gloom.    
     The early arrival of darkness in the cold of mid-winter is a good time to be by a hot, cheery fire, as our ancestors did long ago and not so long ago.  The fire will keep us warm physically and uplifted emotionally.
     The early gloom of late afternoon each day around the time of the winter solstice is as unique a part of nature as any other.  We can accept its beauty and wildness with cheer, and the knowledge that the dreariness of mid-winter is fleeting.  By the middle of January, we see an increase in the amount of daylight each succeeding day.  Joyfully, we survived mid-winter and are looking forward to spring's coming and arrival.                

Winter Woodland Seep

     Today was the first day in my life that I knowingly saw and identified a few poison sumac trees in a wooded bottomland of constantly moist or wet ground.  The successional deciduous woods in southeastern Pennsylvania where the sumac sprouted had been timbered at some point, leaving open spaces where sunlight reaches the ground, encouraging the growth of shrubbery and ground plants, much of which I could see because of a lack of foliage on this winter day.  The young sumac trees each had at least a few clusters of grayish-white berries, which identified this species of shrubbery that causes intense rashes on the skin of people exposed to it.  There was nothing grandiose about the small poison sumac trees or their berries, but I was happy to see them just the same.
     Other kinds of young trees inhabited this wooded bottomland, including red maples, a couple of crack willows and tulip trees.  The maples were the most common trees here, being adapted to damp soil of bottomlands.  There were only a couple of young willows because that tree species needs more sunlight than those trees probably were receiving.  Sapling tulip trees were present also, but they won't thrive as well there as they would on well-drained, upland slopes.
     At least four kinds of shrubbery, besides the sumacs, are in this bottomland woods of wet soil, including spicebushes, speckled alders, winterberry bushes and multiflora rose bushes.  All these but the rose bushes are wetland plants and native to this area.
     Spicebushes have a sweet, lemony scent in their leaves, berries and twigs.  That scent can be detected when those parts of spicebushes are crushed and sniffed.
     Alders in winter have several dark-purple and closed catkins hanging decoratively from twigs and ripened, open cones that had already released their many tiny seeds.  Though these shrubs were dormant, as were all the woody plants, they were still quite attractive.       
     Rose bushes and winterberry shrubs have many red berries that brighten swampy woods in winter.  Many of those berries are eaten by rodents and berry-eating birds such as American robins, cedar waxwings and other species through winter and into spring.
     Because the current winter has been mild, a few kinds of plants were still green and growing on the soil and tree bark.  A few kinds of mosses, including sphagnum moss, and clumps of green grass grew around the seepage and trickles.  And lichens were green on the bark of tree trunks and limbs.
     The rivulets and seeps of inches deep water on the woodland floor also had a few kinds of plants growing in them.  Several pointed hoods of skunk cabbage plants were just emerging from the water.  I had never seen them poking above the water so early, again because of the mild winter, so far.
     Plants adapted to wet or moist soil and little seeps and trickles on the floor of a beat-up, bottomland woods was interesting to see in winter.  Those plants created a unique community of themselves in the habitat that suited all of them.  And there are other such vegetative communities in southeastern Pennsylvania because they are too wet to cultivate or develop.                   

Paridae Birds

     I have seen many black-capped and Carolina chickadees, lots of tufted titmice, and one lone boreal chickadee in my lifetime here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  We have one or two pairs of Carolina chickadees and a few titmice on our lawn the year around.  Many people like chickadees and titmice because they are hardy, lively, readily seen, seemingly cheerful in all kinds of weather, and come to bird feeders the year around.  They are some peoples' favorite birds.    
     Twelve species of birds in the Paridae family live in North America.  They are divided into two major groups, but both are in the Parus genus- chickadees and titmice.  Paridae originated in Eurasia, where there are several kinds of them to this day, as well as other, related species that, together, cover most every habitat in North America, but the Arctic tundra.
     All these species are small, averaging four and a half to five and a half inches long, depending on the kind.  All nest in cavities, are permanent residents where they hatched and consume insects, insect eggs, seeds and berries.  These petite birds are handsome in plain ways, and all types of each group have the same pattern of colors in their feathering, showing their close ancestry to each other.  And all travel in small groups, sometimes with other kinds of small birds, including golden-crowned kinglets, as they forage for food through winter.
     Seven types of chickadees live in North America, including black-capped, Carolina, mountain, Mexican, boreal, chestnut-backed and gray-headed.  All these types of chickadees are plain gray or brown on top, with black or dark caps, depending on the kind, white cheeks and black bibs.  And all utter the classic "chick-a-dee-dee-dee" though it is raspy with some species. 
     Black-capped, Carolina and Mexican chickadees are almost identical, with only slight difference in appearance.  Mountain chickadees would be identical to their close relatives, except this kind has a white stripe above each eye and a black line through each one, something none of the other American chickadees have. 
     Each of these four species lives in a different part of North America, with some overlapping.  Black-caps dwell in the northern two-thirds of the United States and southwestern Canada, while Carolinas inhabit the southeastern United States.  Mountain chickadees live among the forested mountains of the western United States and Canada, while the Mexican chickadee lives in parts of Arizona and New Mexico, and in Mexico itself.
     Boreal chickadees are more brown than gray and have a lighter cap.  Boreals live in the mixed deciduous/coniferous forests of Canada and Alaska.  The one boreal I saw was in Lancaster County. 
     Chestnut-backed chickadees have brown backs and flanks and black caps.  They live in forested mountains of the Pacific Coast of the United States and Canada.
     Gray-headed chickadees have gray caps.  They live among spruce, willow and aspen trees on the edges of the tundra in Alaska and western Canada.
     Five kinds of titmice together also live through much of North America, but not as far north as the chickadees.  The titmice on this continent include tufted, black-crested, bridled, oak and juniper.  All species are light-gray above and lighter below.   All have a crest.  And male titmice of all these species sing whistled songs during their spring breeding seasons.      
     Tufted titmice are the most common of their clan in North America.  They live in deciduous woods and older suburban areas throughout the eastern half of the United States.  This species has peach flanks and a black mark above the beak.  Males of this species repeatedly and loudly sings "peter, peter, peter" early in spring. 
     Black-crested titmice are almost like tufted titmice, except the present kind has a black crest.  This type of bird also sings like its eastern cousin, but dwells in Mexico, and parts of Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. 
     Bridled titmice have black-bordered, gray crests, a white streak over each eye, a black stripe through each one, white cheeks and a black bib.  This bird lives in Mexico.
     Oak and juniper titmice are two closely related, almost identical titmice.  Both species are plain gray all over.  Oak titmice live in dry, oak woods in California, while juniper titmice dwell among junipers and desert woods along waterways   in the American southwest, but not in California.
     Chickadees and titmice are delightful, little birds through most of North America.  They are mostly permanent residents wherever they hatched and are a joy to experience.
 
     

Merlins in / Rough-legs out

     Yesterday I saw another merlin, a beautiful adult female hawk, in cropland between New Holland and Ephrata in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  I've been seeing more merlins in that farm country in recent winters, and almost no rough-legged hawks, though there was a time when rough-legs were fairly common in that human-made, open habitat in winter.
     Merlins raise young in trees where the boreal forests of Canada and Alaska become thin as they mingle with the Arctic tundra.  That's why merlins winter in open country in the United States.  
     Rough-legs hatch offspring on cliffs on the tundra of Canada and Alaska.  They, too, winter in open country.  So why are merlins wintering more in Lancaster County farmland in recent years and rough-legs are declining in that some, local habitat? 
     I noticed as more pairs of red-tailed hawks have been raising young in our farmland and more red-tails are wintering here, rough-leg numbers have declined here in winter.  Red-tails are bigger, tougher hawks than rough-legs, and red-tails defend winter hunting territories.  Meanwhile, only limited numbers of mice and rats can live in cultivated fields that are harvested to the ground in autumn, leaving little food and shelter for those rodents.  My theory is the stronger red-tails chased out most of the rough-legs to have the limited prey animals to themselves.  Those Arctic hawks couldn't stand up to the competition and winter somewhere else.
     Rough-legged hawks have smaller, weaker feet than red-tails.  The former species is built for catching mice, of which there are few in our intensely cultivated farmland because cultivation often disturbs the soil, making it hard for mice and their food plants to become established in the fields.  But the more robust red-tails are adapted to catching mice, rats, squirrels and other kinds of larger animals in local cropland.  Red-tails are better adapted to our agricultural areas, and they take advantage of that fact to out-compete rough-legs.
     Merlins, on the other hand, specialize in catching small birds, which are abundant in our fields in winter, especially horned larks and house sparrows.  Merlins don't compete much with red-tails for food, so the red-tails seldom bother merlins.  And merlins are too fast in flight to be threatened by the soaring red-tails anyway.  Therefore, merlins are better suited for and do well in our cropland while rough-legs don't.  Merlins win.  Rough-legs are in direct competition with increasing numbers of red-tails, and can not defend themselves against the latter species of hawk.  Rough-legs lose.
     Nature is never stagnant, but forever changing, due to varying conditions.  And each species of life is successful when it adapts to a niche that is relatively free of competition.            

Gadwalls

     I see gadwall ducks every winter here in southeastern Pennsylvania, but usually only a pair or two of them, or single birds, at a time on creeks, ponds and flooded quarries.  But I have seen  a few little flocks of them over the years in this area, mixed in with other kinds of ducks.  Gadwalls have been on two ponds that I know of every winter for years, but yesterday, December 10, 2015, I had a rare treat.  I saw at least a dozen gadwalls of both genders with about 50 mallard ducks on a three-acre, shallow impoundment where I have never seen them before.  That human-made pond is surrounded by thin strips of deciduous woods, busy roads, and a suburban business center, landscaped with lawns, dense thickets and cattail ponds.
     Those two duck species together were a lovely, inspiring sight on a sunny winter's afternoon.  Several of the mallards were picturesque lined up and resting on limbs of a tree fallen into the shallow water.  The drakes were handsome in their breeding plumage and green heads. Other mallards were floating on the pond and "tipping up" with their tails pointed to the sky as they dredged the bottom of the pond with their beaks for water vegetation.  The gadwalls, too, were tipping up to pull aquatic plants from the mud to eat.      
     Gadwall drakes are handsome in a plain way.  They have dark bills and black rears.  Their body feathering is mostly an appealing gray and their heads and necks are a lovely shade of warm brown.  Hen gadwalls are brown and mottled, as most female ducks are for camouflage on their nests and when raising ducklings. 
     Adult gadwalls are vegetarians, mostly eating seeds, water plants and other vegetation.  Their young, however, consume a lot of animal matter, including water invertebrates, to get protein for rapid growth. 
     Gadwalls live around the northern hemisphere, including Europe, Asia and North America, though not in abundance.  In North America they breed on the prairies of the northwestern United States and southwestern Canada.  They winter in the southern third of the United States and in Mexico, another reason why they are uncommon in southeastern Pennsylvania.
     Gadwalls are uncommon ducks that are handsome in plain ways.  It's always exciting for me to spot a few of them in my home area in winter. 

Rodent Homes

     In winter, I see many clumps of dead leaves among twigs in deciduous trees, often several in one tree, in woodlands and older suburban areas in the Middle Atlantic States.  Those are the homes of gray squirrels that could not find a tree cavity to live in.  Those furry squirrels curl up overnight in their balls of leaves to be warm and at least somewhat safe from the weather and predators. 
     Gray squirrels are just one species of many kinds of rodents that MAKE homes for themselves in this area, as elsewhere on Earth, to live in through the year and raise young in.  Rodents are the contractors of the mammal world.   
     Eastern chipmunks create nests in the soil of woodlands and older suburbs, where females of the species raise young.  Chipmunks spend nights and winter weeks in those underground homes where they also stored seeds and grain during autumn.  In winter, they sleep a lot in their nests, but wake occasionally to nibble stored food, then go back to bed for a few days.  In this way they have a good chance of  surviving winter.  Only weasels and shrews, both of which are small, slim and active in winter, can kill and eat chipmunks in their burrows.  Weasels and shrews could also live in chipmunk houses, after they killed and ate the occupants.  
     Greens-eating eastern wood chucks are large ground squirrels that dig big, extensive burrows in fields, meadows, and roadside banks where they are most noticeable.  There each chuck lives the year around, and females give birth.  Each burrow has a few exits so those critters are not trapped in their own home by black bears, coyotes or red foxes that would dig after them.  Abandoned chuck holes, and those vacated by the death of the contractor, provide homes to other mammals, including cottontail rabbits, opossums, striped skunks and red foxes.
     Meadow voles make chewed-grass nests in the soil, or on top of it, at the base of tall grass in fields, meadows and roadsides.  They also create homes on the soil under blankets of snow and pushed-down grass and tunnel through the surrounding grass and snow to feeding areas where they eat mostly grass and weed seeds. When the snow melts away, one can see vole nests and runways through the flattened grass that had been under the snow.
     In spring, many female bumble bees start nurseries of young bees in abandoned meadow vole homes.  Those fertilized bees lay eggs in mouse nests in tall grasses or under logs, rocks and other protective objects.
     Many white-footed mice live in tree hollows, in cavities in the ground or under rock, log or brush piles.  And some of them live in deserted birds' nests.  They convert those nurseries for themselves by putting a protective roof of twigs, needles and leaves on top and chewing a hole in the side of the nest.  There each mouse lives in reasonable safety from weather and predators.
     Muskrats and beavers are aquatic rodents that live by waterways and in ponds.  Both species dig homes into stream banks, starting at the normal water level and working up as they dig deeper.  Beavers make burrows much bigger than those of muskrats, of course.  Only mink can get into a muskrat home, kill the occupant or occupants and use the home for itself. 
     But in impoundments, beavers and muskrats pile vegetation on mud shelves they created under water to support their homes.  Beavers pile up branches and twigs, while muskrats use cattails, reeds and corn stalks to build their houses.  Each kind of rodent digs an under water entrance in the side of the home.                  
     Muskrats and beavers eat the same kinds of vegetation they use to make their homes.  Beavers chew and consume the bark off limbs before they use them in construction.  Muskrats ingest cattail roots, grass and other types of plants.
     Rodents of several kinds build homes for themselves, some of which can be used by other creatures.  And some of those homes are visible to us as signs that those critters exist, even if we don't see the animals themselves.  Get out and see if you can find rodent homes where you live.  
    

Winter Crow Roost

     Recently, as I  have every early winter in the last several years, I visited an American crow roost from 4:00 to 5:00 PM, eastern standard time, as the crows came to the roost for the night.  And, as always, the arriving crows put on an inspiring spectacle, as they do every late afternoon from early November to the middle of March at a shopping center in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
     These wintering crows come from Canadian forests where they raised young the summer before, as they do every year.  They probably are the same birds and their descendants that come to this shopping mall early each winter.  Around 4:00 PM, or before, the first trickles of crows come to their nightly perches.  But as the clock ticks toward 5:00 PM, the trickles become rivers, waves and floods of birds pouring low over the mall parking lot.  And those floods get heavier and heavier as the sun sinks below the western horizon.  Those great rivers of crows pouring across the sky are most spectacular when viewed against brilliant sunsets and wild-looking, black clouds in the sky at once. 
     The black rivers of crows come from several directions at once and converge in a great "pool" in the tree tops of a two hundred long line of half grown deciduous trees on an edge of the lot. There is safety in numbers, large numbers!  The air is filled with multitudes of crows and their loud, constant cawing from a thousand throats at once.  You'd think the trees were filled with crows, and still these big, black birds keep coming in great numbers to those trees.  The sky and trees are full of crows and their bedlam gets louder and louder.  And just when you think they are settled for the night, great, black clouds of them pour out of the trees, noisily, swirl around and around in the sky, and settle on the trees again, weighing down their thinner limbs. 
     Each winter morning at dawn, these crows pour out of their roosts and fly swiftly and directly to feeding fields in much of the county where they eat waste corn kernels lying in harvested corn fields and anything else edible they find most anywhere.  All day they move from field to field in search of food.  But by mid-afternoon, they begin gathering in bigger and bigger groups for the trip back to their roost for the night.  The crows stage in patches of trees here and there a few miles or a few hundred yards from the shopping mall before entering the trees on its edge.
     The crows seem to have no problem with traffic, outdoor lights or people on foot at the mall, probably because they can't be shot at there.  And I have never seen the crows bothering people.  The crows live and let live.
     Why do they roost overnight in winter near a shopping mall?  I don't know.  Maybe for the warmth of the buildings and the outdoor lights.  Maybe to escape being preyed on by great horned owls and other predators.  Perhaps simply out of habit.
     But one thing for sure, American crows cause great, exciting flocks that are intriguing to experience.  And the residents of over-populated Lancaster County can use all the natural splendor this county can offer, even great, noisy swarms of American crows down for the winter from Canadian forests.  
            
    

Neighborhood Spruce Beauties

     I have seen many beauties in the four, tall Norway spruce trees that were planted several years ago in our yard in New Holland, Pennsylvania, and next door neighbors' lawns on both sides of ours.  One of the first beauties one would notice about those spruces is the way their branches extend out from the trunks, sweep down a bit and then up gracefully at the tips.  The needled twigs droop like prickly, green curtains from the long, curved limbs.
     Long, beige cones hang decoratively from the tips of the twigs near the tops of the trees.  Those cones formed from red, two-inch-long female flowers that hung beautifully from those same twigs in May and were fertilized by pollen carried on the wind from small, male blossoms.
     These spruces stand majestically against the sky during the day, and at night when they are silhouetted either before a clear sky of stars and moonlight, or clouds reflecting human-made outdoor lights.  They are striking when snow is piled on them.  And an additional beauty is to hear wind sighing softly through those needled boughs.     
     And, of course, those trees on our lawn, like conifers everywhere, are even more attractive and interesting with the various animals that depend on them for shelter and food.  Various kinds of birds are the most noticeable animals in our spruces.  Many summer and early autumn evenings, we sit on our deck to relax and enjoy the beauties of nature in our neighborhood.  Early in summer we notice one or two pairs of robins nesting in those spruces.  And later the young robins will be begging for food on neighborhood short-grass lawns.  One or two pairs of mourning doves also raise young in those same trees.  It's interesting to find dove egg shells on the grass where they were dropped by the parent doves.  And some years a pair of blue jays rear offspring in one of those tall spruces.  Once in a while I'll see parent jays feeding their young in a tree in our yard.
     A few gray squirrels build leaf nests in those sheltering conifers and use those same trees as highways.  It's interesting to see the squirrels moving from limb to limb and jumping from tree to tree with the greatest of ease.  Female squirrels also raise young in their leafy nurseries.
     During most evenings later in summer we see up to a dozen post-breeding house finches and a few American robins perched on the very tips of those evergreen trees.  They look around for several minutes as if surveying their domain, which they probably are.  Then, a few at a time, they leave their lofty perches, probably to settle in trees and bushes for the night.
      Other species of birds also perch in our neighborhood spruces now and again.  Many late-summer evenings, up to a dozen blue jays flip into those spruces for a while, then fly out of them again to roost somewhere else for the night.  Sometimes a few American crows land in those spruces for reasons known only to them.  Occasionally, a red-tailed hawk lands on the tip of a spruce to watch the neighborhood for unsuspecting gray squirrels to catch and eat.  Or a Cooper's hawk will hide among the needled boughs of those spruces to ambush birds, including doves.  And, once in a while, at night, we hear one or a pair of great horned owls hooting from those spruces.  At least once I saw a great horned perched on top of a spruce and silhouetted against clouds illuminated by outdoor lights as it was hooting loudly.         
     For at least a few days one March, about four years ago, a migrant great blue heron settled in the sheltering branches of a Norway spruce for the night before moving on.  One of the attractions that held that heron here was our 100 gallon goldfish pond full of goldfish.  That heron ate every goldfish we had.  One day the fish were there, a few days later, everyone of them was gone.  I know the heron ate them because a neighbor told me he saw the heron standing by our pond and watching it intently.
     I remember one sunny, warm day in July a few years ago when a ruby-throated hummingbird and a house wren were picking tiny insects off the needles of our Norway spruce trees.  It was interesting to see these summering fairy birds working at the same time on the same tree.    
     At dusk on summer evenings, I see a few big brown bats dropping out of the spruces and flying off to hunt and catch flying insects.  I like to watch the aerial gymnastics of those bats as they zig-zag and swoop after mosquitoes, flies and other insect pests to eat.
     Over the years, I have seen at least a few migrant species on our spruces in autumn.  More than once in September, I have seen up to a dozen monarch butterflies landing on their needled branches to spend the night in comparative safety.  And the next morning they were gone.  And a few times in fall over the years, I have seen a red-breasted nuthatch hitching along the trunks and branches of these evergreens and looking for insects and their eggs.  Some autumns I will see a little gang of ruby-crowned or golden-crowned kinglets fluttering among the needles in their quest for tiny insects.
     The Norway spruce trees in our neighborhood are full of life and beauty, as evergreens are throughout the world.  We only have to get out and look for that life and beauty, wherever it may be.  Nature is entertaining, intriguing, and a blessing to human souls.            
     

Grey Foxes

     One sunny summer evening when I was a boy, I climbed a small tree in a hedgerow between fields to watch for birds, mammals or any other creatures that might be near the tree.  I was settled in the tree only a short time when I saw a striped skunk waddle under my tree and disappear in a thicket.  A short time later a grey fox walked by near my tree, sniffing here and there on the ground as it went.  Needless to say, I was thrilled by my success so quickly.
     Another time, one cloudy evening in March, when I was a young adult, I was walking along a forest and thicket path to just enjoy nature without a particular agenda.  I was alone and quiet, and when I rounded a bend in the trail, there close in front of me was a big, handsome grey fox, probably a male.  I stopped walking, surprised, and the fox bounded into a thicket and was gone in a second.  I was excited.  
     Grey foxes live here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, but not in big numbers because this area doesn't have much forest land anymore.  I've only seen a few of these beautiful foxes live and wild in this my home area in my lifetime.  But grey foxes live commonly in a variety of habitats, including woodlands, wooded swamps, thickets, deserts and others throughout the United States, Mexico and Central America.  Obviously, they are adaptable.  
     Grey foxes are beautiful creatures that blend well into woodland, thicket and other habitats.  Their upper parts are as gray as tree bark, but their legs, chests and throats are the warm-brown color of dead leaves on forest floors.  And there is some white on their chests and throats.
     This type of fox eats mostly small rodents, rabbits, little birds, insects and other diminutive critters that it hunts mostly at night.  It also eats birds' eggs, fruits and berries when they are in season.  Turkey young and other ground-nesting birds are particularly vulnerable to grey foxes.   Some greys, in turn, especially the naive young, get caught and eaten by golden eagles, coyotes, bob cats and other, larger, predators. 
     Grey foxes, being small and slender, climb trees well to escape larger ground predators.  Even today in overly-civilized Lancaster County that is a good trait for grey foxes to have.  Coyotes can chase down grey foxes, but they can't climb trees, allowing the escape of grey foxes.
     This species of fox mates in February to March, depending on the latitude and weather.  Greys in the south breed sooner than their relatives in the north.  Grey foxes pair off for the season, if not for a life time.  Females deliver their litters of four or five pups in deserted wood chuck burrows or in shelters in hollow logs, tree stumps, brush piles, log piles, rock piles and other cavities that offer cover against predators and the weather.
     Grey foxes are mostly nocturnal and elusive, making them difficult to spot.  But even if the reader doesn't see this kind of fox alive in the wild, it is well worth knowing that such a lovely, intriguing canine exists in our woodlands the year around.  









        

Bumbling Fur-bearers in Lancaster County

     Several years ago, I saw a striped skunk meander slowly across our lawn at dusk, crawl into a hole in one of our garbage cans and later back out with something edible that it ate.  Then it went into the can again for another edible tidbit.  That skunk did that every evening for a few weeks while I sat at a discreet distance and watched with interest.  Another time, on that same lawn, I saw my brush pile in a ditch get flooded during a heavy rain.  And, as I watched, a skunk and an opossum came out of it to avoid the water.  The skunk ambled across our lawn to another hiding place and the 'possum climbed a small tree.  And I have seen a few mother raccoons, at different times, with their young trailing along as they all patrolled waterways for frogs on shore, and crayfish and fresh water clams called mussels under submerged rocks.
     Several people over the years have told me about the skunks, 'coons or 'possums that live in their yards and have even wandered into their garages or other out buildings.  I heard about a family of baby skunks in a basement window well.  And someone told me about a raccoon living in a tree hollow in her front yard.   
     Striped skunks, raccoons and opossums appear to be chunky, bumbling fur-bearers, though 'coons can be swift and fierce fighters when defending themselves.  These mammals, that are about the size of house cats and larger, are in different families, but they all have traits in common, including being predators of mice, small birds, invertebrates and other little critters.  They also eat carrion, birds' eggs, fruits, vegetables, including corn in the "milk" stage and morsels of garbage.  They can be a nuisance in gardens and corn fields, but they also ingest many pesky rodents and insects as well.  Skunks, for example, dig up many beetle grubs from short-grass lawns.    
     As they are throughout most of North America, all these mammals are common in three habitats in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, including farmland, suburban areas and woods.  Raccoons are most likely to be around waterways and impoundments in those habitats, watery places where they catch frogs, and feel under submerged rocks for crayfish and mussels.
     I have seen all these mammals many times in Lancaster County over the years, mostly at night.  Some I've seen crossing roads, where some of these critters get killed, but not by me.  Others I have watched foraging for food at night, with the help of car lights or powerful spotlights.  I have seen females of all species with babies, including opossum young riding on their mothers' back one time on our lawn.     
     These mammals live in shelters in or on the ground.  They dwell and give birth to young in abandoned wood chuck holes, drainage pipes, under sheds, brush piles, log piles and rock piles, and in hollow logs, among other sheltering places.  Raccoons and opossums, being climbers, also live in tree hollows above the ground.
     Skunks are a chubby-looking branch of the slim and completely carnivorous weasel family.  And like all weasels, skunks create a musky smell for self defense.  Most everybody knows that skunks spray their musk from their rears to dissuade any would-be attackers. 
     Skunks are not gray or brown to blend into their backgrounds to be invisible like rabbits and deer.  Skunks are black and white striped so attackers that get sprayed will remember that color pattern and leave all other skunks alone.  So their bold coloring is a defense.
     Raccoons are related to bears and distantly related to the canine family.  Raccoons are identified by their gray body fur and the black rings of fur on their tails and the black masks of hair around their eyes.  This animal utters frightening growls, screeches and chortles when angry or frightened. 
     Opossums are marsupials like kangaroos and koala bears.  Opossums are gray all over with naked, rat-like tails.  Their greatest defenses are hissing menacingly and playing dead.  Each female gives birth to many small young, about eight of which can find a teat in her pouch to get milk until they can eat solid food.  Having many young each year makes up for many losses, mostly as victims on roads. 
     Watch for these common, nocturnal mammals if you live in their ranges.  They are interesting, as long as we give them room to be themselves and do their things.