Two kinds of deciduous trees in the Middle Atlantic States have decorative seed balls persisting through winter. Those species are sycamores and sweet gums. Each type of tree has several beauties, but their seed balls is what they have in common. Each ball of both species has a long, slender stem like pendant earrings or jewelry.
Sycamore trees have pale-gray bark that peels off in patches, revealing the young, lighter bark underneath. That falling away of the older bark causes a distinctive and unique, mottled appearance on sycamores' trunks and limbs. And since this species mostly inhabits floodplains along rivers and creeks, where it is an associate of black walnut trees, silver maple trees and ash-leafed maple trees, sycamores' patterned bark indicates the presence of water.
Sycamores are one of the most massive and magnificent of trees in eastern North America. They can grow to be over 80 feet tall and up to eight feet in diameter at the base. And each tree's many one-inch, beige seed balls are composed of many seeds attached to a hard, rounded "button" that gives this species its name of buttonwood. Each seed has fluff that carries it away on the wind. Most seeds never sprout because they are eaten by mice and small, seed-eating birds, including a variety of wintering finches and sparrows.
The leaves of sweet gum trees have five, sharp-pointed lobes in a unique design. Sweet gum foliage is striking in October, with red, yellow and maroon colors, usually all on the same tree. Sweet gums grow best on floodplains, but also do well in moist, upland soil. This species is often planted as a shade tree on lawns, for its lovely shapes and beautiful autumn leaves. It can grow up to 80 feet tall, with a pyramidal shape.
Each of the many seed balls on each sweet gum tree is about an inch across. Each ball has several woody, sharp-pointed capsules, which gives it a bristly or spiny appearance. Tiny, dark seeds fall out of those little, dark-brown containers when they open, but most of those seeds are eaten by mice and small, seed-eating birds, including a variety of wintering finches and sparrows. Those birds often hang up-side-down on the seed balls still on the trees to eat the seeds in the openings. And those birds add much beauty and interest to sweet gum trees in winter.
Sycamores and sweet gums have decorative, dangling seed balls through winter. Those balls add beauty to the trees and the habitats they inhabit.
Monday, February 29, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Yellow Perches and Walleyes
Yellow perch are a kind of edible game fish commonly sought after by people fishing through the ice of the several human-made impoundments in southeastern Pennsylvania, as across much of the United States. Fishermen drill round holes through the ice to sink their baited hooks into the water.
Yellow perch are active through the year, including in winter. And, as their name implies, they are a member of the perch family, as are walleyes, saugers and over 120 species of darters, which are minnow-like.
The perch family inhabits North America and Eurasia, though darters are strictly North American. Members of this family are long and lean for easy, streamlined slipping through the water, and have two dorsal fins on their backs, which is their single most important identifying characteristic as a family of fish.
Yellow perch are native to southeastern Pennsylvania. They are up to a foot long, with olive-green on top and alternating olive-green and yellow-green striping on their flanks. Their fins are yellow, except breeding males have orange fins. They are equally at home on warm or cool lakes.
Yellow perch spawn in water five to ten feet deep in spring. Each female has a few male suitors with her when she lays up to 20,000 gelatin eggs draped in strings over submerged vegetation, brush on the bottom and gravelly shorelines. The male perch fertilize her eggs with their milt. The eggs and young perch receive no parental care at all. The hatchlings form schools in open water and near the bottoms of the shallows. There is safety in great numbers. They eat zooplankton and tiny insect larvae, and are, in turn, consumed by larger fish, including older yellow perch. Adult perch ingest smaller fish and a variety of aquatic invertebrates.
Walleye are originally from the Mississippi River Watershed, including the Ohio River. And they have been stocked in other parts of North America, including eastern Pennsylvania. They are called "walleye" because of their large, "milky-white" eyes that see well in the dark. Walleyes can grow to be up to three feet long and are blue-gray to olive-brown. They prefer cool, deep waters with gravelly bottoms in large lakes and rivers and are an excellent game fish with delicious meat, as does the perch.
Walleye spawn at night in early spring. Each spawning female has a few males around her ready to fertilize her eggs. Each female lays thousands of eggs over gravel in shallow water. The hatchlings form schools of themselves and eat zooplankton, and later invertebrates and small fish. Adults consume larger fish, mostly.
Yellow perch and walleyes are related game fish with fine-tasting flesh. And the perch are eagerly sought by many fisherman through the ice of impoundments.
Yellow perch are active through the year, including in winter. And, as their name implies, they are a member of the perch family, as are walleyes, saugers and over 120 species of darters, which are minnow-like.
The perch family inhabits North America and Eurasia, though darters are strictly North American. Members of this family are long and lean for easy, streamlined slipping through the water, and have two dorsal fins on their backs, which is their single most important identifying characteristic as a family of fish.
Yellow perch are native to southeastern Pennsylvania. They are up to a foot long, with olive-green on top and alternating olive-green and yellow-green striping on their flanks. Their fins are yellow, except breeding males have orange fins. They are equally at home on warm or cool lakes.
Yellow perch spawn in water five to ten feet deep in spring. Each female has a few male suitors with her when she lays up to 20,000 gelatin eggs draped in strings over submerged vegetation, brush on the bottom and gravelly shorelines. The male perch fertilize her eggs with their milt. The eggs and young perch receive no parental care at all. The hatchlings form schools in open water and near the bottoms of the shallows. There is safety in great numbers. They eat zooplankton and tiny insect larvae, and are, in turn, consumed by larger fish, including older yellow perch. Adult perch ingest smaller fish and a variety of aquatic invertebrates.
Walleye are originally from the Mississippi River Watershed, including the Ohio River. And they have been stocked in other parts of North America, including eastern Pennsylvania. They are called "walleye" because of their large, "milky-white" eyes that see well in the dark. Walleyes can grow to be up to three feet long and are blue-gray to olive-brown. They prefer cool, deep waters with gravelly bottoms in large lakes and rivers and are an excellent game fish with delicious meat, as does the perch.
Walleye spawn at night in early spring. Each spawning female has a few males around her ready to fertilize her eggs. Each female lays thousands of eggs over gravel in shallow water. The hatchlings form schools of themselves and eat zooplankton, and later invertebrates and small fish. Adults consume larger fish, mostly.
Yellow perch and walleyes are related game fish with fine-tasting flesh. And the perch are eagerly sought by many fisherman through the ice of impoundments.
Friday, February 26, 2016
Red-Tails and Kestrels are Everywhere
Red-tails and American kestrels are common hawks in southeastern Pennsylvania, as throughout most of North America, the year around. Both species are adaptable, the main reason they are abundant. Both mostly inhabit farmland, but red-tails also live in woodland edges, and older suburban areas where there is an abundance of gray squirrels. Both perch along roadsides to watch for mice and other prey animals, a place where they are readily seen. Many individuals of these species of raptors annually nest here, while others winter here. Still other birds of these species pass through this area in migration, in big numbers, during spring and autumn. These species are north-bound during March and April. And kestrels go south from August through October, while red-tails mostly migrate south during October and November.
Red-tails are soaring hawks (buteos). They have that name because adults have reddish-orange tails when they are at least three years old.
Red-tailed hawks probably originally lived and nested in woodland clearings in eastern North American during the days of American Indians. But these hawks expanded their range and numbers as the forests were cleared by European colonists to make croplands. Today red-tails are most likely to hatch young in stick, platform cradles in lone trees in fields and in older suburban areas and towns with their tall trees.
Most red-tails in southeastern Pennsylvania today spend winter nights in the shelter of tall spruce trees with their densely-needled boughs that block the cold wind. All spruces in this part of Pennsylvania were planted on lawns, as this area has no native spruces.
Late in winter afternoons, one can see one or a few red-tails soaring and gliding low through suburbs and towns on their ways to needled roost trees. And if one watches those same spruce trees early the next morning, the hawks can be spotted exiting them and cruising out to fields or suburbs where they attempt to catch mice and squirrels.
American kestrels are the smallest and most attractive species of falcon in North America. They must have evolved in open habitats because they seem to prefer that niche to this day. And they developed the trait of hovering into the wind just enough to hold a stationary position in the air while watching the ground for mice, grasshoppers and other small prey. They would only have to flutter into the wind in habitats with no lofty perches, such as trees. But they do perch on tree twigs in open habitats, where trees are available, and roadside wires, to look for prey.
Roadside banks in farmland are riddled with the runways and tunnels of field voles (a kind of mouse) and brown rats. Red-tails and kestrels regularly patrol those banks from the air, nearby trees and roadside wires in hopes of catching some of those rodents. But those raptors need to be careful to avoid approaching traffic when they drop to the roadsides to snare rodents.
Streambank fencing along waterways offers more shelter and food for ducks, rodents, larger insects, a variety of birds and other kinds of critters adapted to agricultural areas. Some of those creatures will feed red-tails and kestrels the year around.
American kestrels originally nested in abandoned woodpecker holes and other tree cavities, and still do. But they have also adapted to hatching offspring in barns and bird boxes erected especially for them and screech owls. Those human-made nesting hollows helped increase the numbers of kestrels and screech owls, though their populations fluctuate at times because of numerous factors.
Red-tails and kestrels are everywhere the year around. We need only to get outside and look for these striking and interesting hawk species.
Red-tails are soaring hawks (buteos). They have that name because adults have reddish-orange tails when they are at least three years old.
Red-tailed hawks probably originally lived and nested in woodland clearings in eastern North American during the days of American Indians. But these hawks expanded their range and numbers as the forests were cleared by European colonists to make croplands. Today red-tails are most likely to hatch young in stick, platform cradles in lone trees in fields and in older suburban areas and towns with their tall trees.
Most red-tails in southeastern Pennsylvania today spend winter nights in the shelter of tall spruce trees with their densely-needled boughs that block the cold wind. All spruces in this part of Pennsylvania were planted on lawns, as this area has no native spruces.
Late in winter afternoons, one can see one or a few red-tails soaring and gliding low through suburbs and towns on their ways to needled roost trees. And if one watches those same spruce trees early the next morning, the hawks can be spotted exiting them and cruising out to fields or suburbs where they attempt to catch mice and squirrels.
American kestrels are the smallest and most attractive species of falcon in North America. They must have evolved in open habitats because they seem to prefer that niche to this day. And they developed the trait of hovering into the wind just enough to hold a stationary position in the air while watching the ground for mice, grasshoppers and other small prey. They would only have to flutter into the wind in habitats with no lofty perches, such as trees. But they do perch on tree twigs in open habitats, where trees are available, and roadside wires, to look for prey.
Roadside banks in farmland are riddled with the runways and tunnels of field voles (a kind of mouse) and brown rats. Red-tails and kestrels regularly patrol those banks from the air, nearby trees and roadside wires in hopes of catching some of those rodents. But those raptors need to be careful to avoid approaching traffic when they drop to the roadsides to snare rodents.
Streambank fencing along waterways offers more shelter and food for ducks, rodents, larger insects, a variety of birds and other kinds of critters adapted to agricultural areas. Some of those creatures will feed red-tails and kestrels the year around.
American kestrels originally nested in abandoned woodpecker holes and other tree cavities, and still do. But they have also adapted to hatching offspring in barns and bird boxes erected especially for them and screech owls. Those human-made nesting hollows helped increase the numbers of kestrels and screech owls, though their populations fluctuate at times because of numerous factors.
Red-tails and kestrels are everywhere the year around. We need only to get outside and look for these striking and interesting hawk species.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Early-Blooming Woody Plants
Every February, I look forward to the blooming of pussy willow shrubs and silver maple trees as early signs of spring's arrival in southeastern Pennsylvania. Both these woody plants have lovely flowers by the end of February or into early March, depending on prevailing temperatures. They are two of the earliest plants with bark to commonly blossom in this area.
Lengthening amounts of daylight each succeeding day in January and February and higher average temperatures toward the end of February are the stimuli to awaken the flower buds of these species. Those buds swell and open within a few days, lifting many a human spirit weary of winter.
The beautiful and decorative "furry", gray catkins we see annually on pussy willows are male flowers on male plants. Eventually those striking catkins produce yellow pollen that spreads by wind to female flowers. Female pussy willows, incidentally, don't bear those popular catkins and are not introduced to lawns.
Most pussy willows I see here have been planted on lawns. They can either be bought as complete plants from tree nurseries, or twigs can be cut from bushes before their leaves grow and placed in water. Bunches of pussy willow stems can be bought for home decorations. But placed in water, those still-living twigs grow roots below the water line and leaves above the water. How do the twigs know where the water line is? As roots grow on the twigs, add soil to the water, little by little, until the container has mud in it. Then plant the twigs with leaves, and roots in the mud, outdoors and water until the plant is established and develops on its own. Pussy willows grow rapidly, with many slender limbs and twigs, and need to be trimmed back at times.
Silver maples are native trees in eastern North America. They grow best on floodplains along creeks and rivers. Their clusters of small flowers late in February and into early March are reddish and yellow, making silver maples decorative for a couple of weeks on their native floodplains where they tolerate occasional flooding, and lawns where they were planted. This species can make canopies of floodplains dull-red with their blossoms, and help indicate that the vernal season has arrived.
Silver maples can become huge and riddled with cavities where wind ripped limbs off the trees, exposing the wood beneath to agents of decay. Those hollows offer homes and nurseries to a variety of wildlife, including barred owls, screech owls, wood ducks, raccoons, gray squirrels and others.
Silver maples have deeply-lobed leaves that are silvery underneath, giving this species its common name. Large specimens have shaggy bark; long, thin strips of bark that are loose at the ends.
This species grows quickly, but breaks down easily, especially in wind, scattering limbs and twigs everywhere. It is not suited for lawns. But the sap of silver maples can be boiled down to make pure maple syrup. Unfortunately, it takes at least 80 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup, twice what it takes to make syrup from sugar maple trees.
Look for pussy willow catkins and silver maple flowers this spring. They help give an emotional lift to human souls tired of the hardships of winter.
Lengthening amounts of daylight each succeeding day in January and February and higher average temperatures toward the end of February are the stimuli to awaken the flower buds of these species. Those buds swell and open within a few days, lifting many a human spirit weary of winter.
The beautiful and decorative "furry", gray catkins we see annually on pussy willows are male flowers on male plants. Eventually those striking catkins produce yellow pollen that spreads by wind to female flowers. Female pussy willows, incidentally, don't bear those popular catkins and are not introduced to lawns.
Most pussy willows I see here have been planted on lawns. They can either be bought as complete plants from tree nurseries, or twigs can be cut from bushes before their leaves grow and placed in water. Bunches of pussy willow stems can be bought for home decorations. But placed in water, those still-living twigs grow roots below the water line and leaves above the water. How do the twigs know where the water line is? As roots grow on the twigs, add soil to the water, little by little, until the container has mud in it. Then plant the twigs with leaves, and roots in the mud, outdoors and water until the plant is established and develops on its own. Pussy willows grow rapidly, with many slender limbs and twigs, and need to be trimmed back at times.
Silver maples are native trees in eastern North America. They grow best on floodplains along creeks and rivers. Their clusters of small flowers late in February and into early March are reddish and yellow, making silver maples decorative for a couple of weeks on their native floodplains where they tolerate occasional flooding, and lawns where they were planted. This species can make canopies of floodplains dull-red with their blossoms, and help indicate that the vernal season has arrived.
Silver maples can become huge and riddled with cavities where wind ripped limbs off the trees, exposing the wood beneath to agents of decay. Those hollows offer homes and nurseries to a variety of wildlife, including barred owls, screech owls, wood ducks, raccoons, gray squirrels and others.
Silver maples have deeply-lobed leaves that are silvery underneath, giving this species its common name. Large specimens have shaggy bark; long, thin strips of bark that are loose at the ends.
This species grows quickly, but breaks down easily, especially in wind, scattering limbs and twigs everywhere. It is not suited for lawns. But the sap of silver maples can be boiled down to make pure maple syrup. Unfortunately, it takes at least 80 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup, twice what it takes to make syrup from sugar maple trees.
Look for pussy willow catkins and silver maple flowers this spring. They help give an emotional lift to human souls tired of the hardships of winter.
Monday, February 22, 2016
The Beauty of Nature
The beauty of nature is everywhere in the universe, all the time. And that natural beauty changes with every second through infinity. Nature is never stagnant, but always has fresh intrigues.
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Spring is Coming
To me, spring arrives in southeastern Pennsylvania around the middle of February, biologically speaking. Then certain small hardy flowers, including snow drops and winter aconites bloom, waterfowl and blackbirds start their migrations north to their nesting grounds and local, permanent resident male birds begin singing to establish breeding territories and attract mates. The birds see the lengthening amounts of daylight each succeeding day in January, which stirs their hormones and makes them want to reproduce. This year, 2016, I kept a diary of natural happenings that indicate that spring is coming to southeastern Pennsylvania.
On February third, I heard a male Carolina wren singing and male mourning doves cooing in our suburban neighborhood. The wren survived the near-record snow storm we had here just a couple of weeks ago, partly because it sheltered and probably found invertebrates under a neighbors' porch. This wren also ate sunflower seeds from the neighbors' bird feeder.
Mourning doves are always one of the first resident birds to sing, usually in the beginning of February. I am always happy to hear the first doves cooing.
Later that day I drove through Lancaster County farmland to see what creatures were stirring. Among other wintering, cropland birds, I saw a lone pair of mallards investigating a slow section of stream. It looked like they were searching for a nesting spot, a sure sign of the coming spring. Later, I saw a pair of American kestrels perched close together on a roadside wire, another sign of spring's coming. I know the kestrels were male and female because of differences in size and plumage coloration. There were a few large trees with hollows in them near where I saw the kestrels.
On February four, I saw about 50 migrant snow geese with around 160 resident Canada geese and a score of mallard ducks in a partly-flooded winter rye field and a harvested corn field in a broad, farmland valley about a mile south of New Holland, Lancaster County. The snow geese had not been there all winter, leading me to believe their sudden presence was a symbol of the coming vernal season. The geese and ducks were feeding peacefully until an adult bald eagle flew over them. Then the geese and ducks took flight in panic. The Canadas and mallards soon landed again on the same fields, but the cautious snows circled the fields several times before finally landing among the Canadas.
Every square inch of that valley is devoted to human activities. Yet, at times, during every February and March, migrating snow geese and tundra swans land in that valley for a few days to eat waste corn kernels and the green shoots of winter rye.
On February eight, I was driving through Lancaster County cropland and saw a few pairs of red-tailed hawks perched together in trees here and there. And I saw a pair of black vultures investigating crevices in a rocky wall of an abandoned quarry for a nesting site. I took those pairs of birds as symbols of the coming spring.
Five thousand snow geese were reported to be on the main lake at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area on February ninth. They didn't stay long because the lake was mostly frozen, but their sudden presence after a winter of absence indicated another sign of the coming vernal season.
On February 14 I noticed more mourning doves locally than I had all winter. Apparently some doves move out of this area in fall, but come back when the daylight per day gets longer. Now male northern cardinals are singing. I also saw some patches of snow drops and winter aconites blooming on lawns and flower beds. The bald eagles that have a nest outside Hanover, Pennsylvania, and we can see on computers, are now sitting on their nest in preparation of laying eggs. Other pairs of local bald eagles are already setting on eggs. And there is a bit of light in the western sky until about 6:30 P M. Now is the time to start looking for the courtship flights of male American woodcocks in clearings near bottomland woods just after sunset.
On February 15, we had light snow in the afternoon, freezing rain overnight and rain on the 16th with temperatures up to 43 degrees. On the 15th I saw several each of black ducks and common merganser ducks on a stretch of Mill Creek where they had not been all winter, indicating to me they are restless and on the move. And some of the Amish farmers have one gallon plastic jugs on spiles drilled under the bark of maple trees to catch leaking sap they will boil down to pure maple syrup.
When naturalist-writer John Burroughs wrote about his maple sugaring experiences in the Hudson Valley of New York State he wrote "Next week or the next we will plow and do other sober work on the farm, but this week we will picnic among the maples and our camp fires shall be an incense to spring".
Starting on February 16th, temperatures will warm for several days into next week. With increased daylight each succeeding day and warmer temperatures, spring will start to burst forth in this area, in spite of what the human calendar says. To me, on the 16th, spring is here!
On February third, I heard a male Carolina wren singing and male mourning doves cooing in our suburban neighborhood. The wren survived the near-record snow storm we had here just a couple of weeks ago, partly because it sheltered and probably found invertebrates under a neighbors' porch. This wren also ate sunflower seeds from the neighbors' bird feeder.
Mourning doves are always one of the first resident birds to sing, usually in the beginning of February. I am always happy to hear the first doves cooing.
Later that day I drove through Lancaster County farmland to see what creatures were stirring. Among other wintering, cropland birds, I saw a lone pair of mallards investigating a slow section of stream. It looked like they were searching for a nesting spot, a sure sign of the coming spring. Later, I saw a pair of American kestrels perched close together on a roadside wire, another sign of spring's coming. I know the kestrels were male and female because of differences in size and plumage coloration. There were a few large trees with hollows in them near where I saw the kestrels.
On February four, I saw about 50 migrant snow geese with around 160 resident Canada geese and a score of mallard ducks in a partly-flooded winter rye field and a harvested corn field in a broad, farmland valley about a mile south of New Holland, Lancaster County. The snow geese had not been there all winter, leading me to believe their sudden presence was a symbol of the coming vernal season. The geese and ducks were feeding peacefully until an adult bald eagle flew over them. Then the geese and ducks took flight in panic. The Canadas and mallards soon landed again on the same fields, but the cautious snows circled the fields several times before finally landing among the Canadas.
Every square inch of that valley is devoted to human activities. Yet, at times, during every February and March, migrating snow geese and tundra swans land in that valley for a few days to eat waste corn kernels and the green shoots of winter rye.
On February eight, I was driving through Lancaster County cropland and saw a few pairs of red-tailed hawks perched together in trees here and there. And I saw a pair of black vultures investigating crevices in a rocky wall of an abandoned quarry for a nesting site. I took those pairs of birds as symbols of the coming spring.
Five thousand snow geese were reported to be on the main lake at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area on February ninth. They didn't stay long because the lake was mostly frozen, but their sudden presence after a winter of absence indicated another sign of the coming vernal season.
On February 14 I noticed more mourning doves locally than I had all winter. Apparently some doves move out of this area in fall, but come back when the daylight per day gets longer. Now male northern cardinals are singing. I also saw some patches of snow drops and winter aconites blooming on lawns and flower beds. The bald eagles that have a nest outside Hanover, Pennsylvania, and we can see on computers, are now sitting on their nest in preparation of laying eggs. Other pairs of local bald eagles are already setting on eggs. And there is a bit of light in the western sky until about 6:30 P M. Now is the time to start looking for the courtship flights of male American woodcocks in clearings near bottomland woods just after sunset.
On February 15, we had light snow in the afternoon, freezing rain overnight and rain on the 16th with temperatures up to 43 degrees. On the 15th I saw several each of black ducks and common merganser ducks on a stretch of Mill Creek where they had not been all winter, indicating to me they are restless and on the move. And some of the Amish farmers have one gallon plastic jugs on spiles drilled under the bark of maple trees to catch leaking sap they will boil down to pure maple syrup.
When naturalist-writer John Burroughs wrote about his maple sugaring experiences in the Hudson Valley of New York State he wrote "Next week or the next we will plow and do other sober work on the farm, but this week we will picnic among the maples and our camp fires shall be an incense to spring".
Starting on February 16th, temperatures will warm for several days into next week. With increased daylight each succeeding day and warmer temperatures, spring will start to burst forth in this area, in spite of what the human calendar says. To me, on the 16th, spring is here!
Friday, February 19, 2016
Surviving Flooded Meadows
Close to an inch of rain fell on Lancaster County, Pennsylvania on February 16, 2016, which melted much of the snow. The result of the rainfall and melting snow was overflowing waterways and many puddles in several meadows and fields in local cropland.
Early in the afternoon of the 16th, as the rain was ceasing, I took a drive through some of the county's farmland to see the effects the slight flooding had on wildlife. I saw about 50 Canada geese grazing on the pasture's short grass and around 100 mallard ducks milling about in the swollen stream in that meadow. And there were a dozen rock pigeons walking over a nearby lawn and a pair of red-tailed hawks perched on a dead tree in the pasture.
Suddenly, one of the hawks left its perch and skimmed low across the meadow toward the stream. I thought it was going to grab one of the mallards. But the hawk overshot the waterway and landed on the grass beside the water. Then it reached down with its beak and came up with a meadow mouse that it promptly swallowed headfirst and whole. Apparently, the mouse was flooded out of its home and made vulnerable to predators. But what really caught my attention was the mallards didn't fly away in fright. In fact, they seemed curious about what the hawk was doing as they all paddled enough to hold their place in the stream where the hawk landed.
As I moved on, the rain stopped, but fog developed where snow still covered the ground. Warm, southerly breezes over cold snow created the fog that made the landscape all the more beautiful and interesting.
The sky quickly cleared as I drove along. And many puffy, cumulus clouds made the sky wild-looking, yet intriguing and attractive.
As I passed another partly-inundated pasture with a swollen stream, I saw about 50 Canada geese, roughly 60 mallards and a few each of black ducks and American wigeon ducks. Those birds were eating vegetation from the over-flowing brook, puddles and nearby, soggy fields. And a muskrat, that was flooded out of its home, was wandering over a field, making it vulnerable to red-tailed hawks.
The last pasture I visited is many acres in size and straddles Mill Creek. It, too, was partly flooded, and harbored a nice variety of birds, including hundreds of stately Canada geese, a score of snow geese, and a handful each of mallards, black ducks and common merganser ducks on the creek, in the puddles and on the soggy soil. While I was there, several noisy flocks of Canada geese circled this pasture and finally floated down majestically into the wind to join their relatives on the spongy ground, where they rested, preened and socialized.
I saw a belted kingfisher perched on a limb by the creek as he watched the water for small fish to eat. A great blue heron stood hunched on shore, apparently resting between fishing forays in the creek. A flock of rock pigeons fluttered down to a puddle to drink while a scattered group of wintering American robins ran and stopped, ran and stopped across the short-grass meadow in search of earthworms and other invertebrates brought to the surface by the excess water in the ground. And I saw another displaced muskrat meander across the pasture.
And I saw a magnificent adult bald eagle perched on a limb of a large tree along the creek in the back of the meadow. I knew there was a large, bulky eagle nest of sticks in a huge sycamore tree by the creek. When I looked at the stick cradle with 16 power binoculars, I saw the white head of another bald eagle on the nest, probably incubating an egg or eggs.
Obviously, the water birds fared well in the slight flooding. But mice and muskrats were made vulnerable to predators when they were flooded out of their homes in the grass and stream banks of inundated pastures. Weather, particularly, extreme weather, affects wildlife. Wild creatures have to be adaptable and hardy to survive weather, predators and other problems they encounter in their daily lives.
Early in the afternoon of the 16th, as the rain was ceasing, I took a drive through some of the county's farmland to see the effects the slight flooding had on wildlife. I saw about 50 Canada geese grazing on the pasture's short grass and around 100 mallard ducks milling about in the swollen stream in that meadow. And there were a dozen rock pigeons walking over a nearby lawn and a pair of red-tailed hawks perched on a dead tree in the pasture.
Suddenly, one of the hawks left its perch and skimmed low across the meadow toward the stream. I thought it was going to grab one of the mallards. But the hawk overshot the waterway and landed on the grass beside the water. Then it reached down with its beak and came up with a meadow mouse that it promptly swallowed headfirst and whole. Apparently, the mouse was flooded out of its home and made vulnerable to predators. But what really caught my attention was the mallards didn't fly away in fright. In fact, they seemed curious about what the hawk was doing as they all paddled enough to hold their place in the stream where the hawk landed.
As I moved on, the rain stopped, but fog developed where snow still covered the ground. Warm, southerly breezes over cold snow created the fog that made the landscape all the more beautiful and interesting.
The sky quickly cleared as I drove along. And many puffy, cumulus clouds made the sky wild-looking, yet intriguing and attractive.
As I passed another partly-inundated pasture with a swollen stream, I saw about 50 Canada geese, roughly 60 mallards and a few each of black ducks and American wigeon ducks. Those birds were eating vegetation from the over-flowing brook, puddles and nearby, soggy fields. And a muskrat, that was flooded out of its home, was wandering over a field, making it vulnerable to red-tailed hawks.
The last pasture I visited is many acres in size and straddles Mill Creek. It, too, was partly flooded, and harbored a nice variety of birds, including hundreds of stately Canada geese, a score of snow geese, and a handful each of mallards, black ducks and common merganser ducks on the creek, in the puddles and on the soggy soil. While I was there, several noisy flocks of Canada geese circled this pasture and finally floated down majestically into the wind to join their relatives on the spongy ground, where they rested, preened and socialized.
I saw a belted kingfisher perched on a limb by the creek as he watched the water for small fish to eat. A great blue heron stood hunched on shore, apparently resting between fishing forays in the creek. A flock of rock pigeons fluttered down to a puddle to drink while a scattered group of wintering American robins ran and stopped, ran and stopped across the short-grass meadow in search of earthworms and other invertebrates brought to the surface by the excess water in the ground. And I saw another displaced muskrat meander across the pasture.
And I saw a magnificent adult bald eagle perched on a limb of a large tree along the creek in the back of the meadow. I knew there was a large, bulky eagle nest of sticks in a huge sycamore tree by the creek. When I looked at the stick cradle with 16 power binoculars, I saw the white head of another bald eagle on the nest, probably incubating an egg or eggs.
Obviously, the water birds fared well in the slight flooding. But mice and muskrats were made vulnerable to predators when they were flooded out of their homes in the grass and stream banks of inundated pastures. Weather, particularly, extreme weather, affects wildlife. Wild creatures have to be adaptable and hardy to survive weather, predators and other problems they encounter in their daily lives.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Black Birches and Chestnut Oaks
Black birch trees and chestnut oak trees are common associates of each other on wooded, rock-strewn mountain slopes and hill tops in the eastern United States from southern Maine to Georgia and Alabama, including here in Pennsylvania. Together, and with red oaks, sugar maples and other tree species, they create a tree community, a forest of their own making.
Black birches and chestnut oaks are both medium-sized trees and well-named. The birches are also called sweet birch because of the wonderful wintergreen odor and taste of their twigs and bark. And the oaks are known as rock oaks because of the rocky soil they grow from.
These tree species, like all vegetation, are valuable to the environment they live in. The roots of both species help hold the soil down on their mountaintop strongholds. Their leaves provide oxygen to the atmosphere and their dead and fallen leaves and limbs help enrich the soil of the forest floor. And their dead and toppled logs provide shelter for red-backed and slimy salamanders, white-footed mice, a variety of invertebrates, fungi and moss.
Black birches have dark bark, which names them in part, simple leaves with tiny "teeth" on their margins and catkins in spring. Their foliage turns yellow in death, adding to the beauty of colored leaves in forests in fall. Their twigs are pleasant to chew and birch beer is made from fermented sap that is collected early in spring. Birch sap can also be boiled down to syrup and sugar, if they are desired. But it takes up to 80 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup.
And black birch trees are also valuable to wildlife. White-tailed deer, snowshoe hares, porcupines and white-footed mice browse their twigs and buds in winter. Ruffed grouse eat their buds in winter. And the tiny, wind-blown seeds of this birch species are consumed by mice and small, seed-eating birds, including American goldfinches, pine siskins, purple finches, white-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos during that harshest of seasons.
Chestnut oaks have rough, dark bark that also has long, irregular, V-shaped ridges and deep furrows. I've noticed that many of them have forked near the ground, making two main trunks on each tree. Chestnut oaks also have large, simple leaves with wavy margins, like chestnut leaves, that are not lobed like typical oak leaves, hence their common name. And they produce an abundance of large, warm-brown acorns that feed a host of wildlife on wooded mountains. Black bears, white-tailed deer, rodents, wild turkeys and other creatures consume lots of acorns from this oak tree.
Black birches and chestnut oaks form tree communities on rocky, wooded slopes in the eastern United States. There they are valuable to their habitat and wildlife in that habitat. And they have values to us.
Black birches and chestnut oaks are both medium-sized trees and well-named. The birches are also called sweet birch because of the wonderful wintergreen odor and taste of their twigs and bark. And the oaks are known as rock oaks because of the rocky soil they grow from.
These tree species, like all vegetation, are valuable to the environment they live in. The roots of both species help hold the soil down on their mountaintop strongholds. Their leaves provide oxygen to the atmosphere and their dead and fallen leaves and limbs help enrich the soil of the forest floor. And their dead and toppled logs provide shelter for red-backed and slimy salamanders, white-footed mice, a variety of invertebrates, fungi and moss.
Black birches have dark bark, which names them in part, simple leaves with tiny "teeth" on their margins and catkins in spring. Their foliage turns yellow in death, adding to the beauty of colored leaves in forests in fall. Their twigs are pleasant to chew and birch beer is made from fermented sap that is collected early in spring. Birch sap can also be boiled down to syrup and sugar, if they are desired. But it takes up to 80 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup.
And black birch trees are also valuable to wildlife. White-tailed deer, snowshoe hares, porcupines and white-footed mice browse their twigs and buds in winter. Ruffed grouse eat their buds in winter. And the tiny, wind-blown seeds of this birch species are consumed by mice and small, seed-eating birds, including American goldfinches, pine siskins, purple finches, white-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos during that harshest of seasons.
Chestnut oaks have rough, dark bark that also has long, irregular, V-shaped ridges and deep furrows. I've noticed that many of them have forked near the ground, making two main trunks on each tree. Chestnut oaks also have large, simple leaves with wavy margins, like chestnut leaves, that are not lobed like typical oak leaves, hence their common name. And they produce an abundance of large, warm-brown acorns that feed a host of wildlife on wooded mountains. Black bears, white-tailed deer, rodents, wild turkeys and other creatures consume lots of acorns from this oak tree.
Black birches and chestnut oaks form tree communities on rocky, wooded slopes in the eastern United States. There they are valuable to their habitat and wildlife in that habitat. And they have values to us.
Monday, February 15, 2016
Pretty Winter and Early Spring Shrubs
Winter-berries, speckled alders, red-osier dogwoods and hazel-nuts are native shrubs in southeastern Pennsylvania, and elsewhere in the eastern United States, that live in constantly moist soil. These shrub species are common in appropriate habitats, and winter-berries and red-osiers are planted on lawns. And all of them are prettiest in winter and early in spring.
Winter-berry bushes are also called deciduous hollies because they are a holly that loses its leaves in autumn and grows new ones the next spring. The main beauty of this shrub, whether wild in wooded bottomlands with damp soil, or planted on lawns, is its many decorative, red berries on female plants. Those berries stand out vividly before gray, deciduous bark and are eventually eaten by rodents, and American robins, cedar waxwings and other kinds of berry-eating birds that add their feathered beauties to that of winter-berry bushes late in winter and into early spring.
Speckled alders are most attractive in winter. They are called speckled because of the obvious lenticels on their bark. In winter they are abundantly adorned with many inch-long, dull-purple male catkins that swing in a breeze and half-inch long, woody "cones" that contained last year's seeds. Stands of this type of alder line brooks and streams in cow pastures where they receive abundant sunlight. White-tailed deer, cottontail rabbits, muskrats, field voles and white-footed mice browse their twigs, buds and bark in winter.
Red-osier dogwood shrubbery has strikingly red stems that seem to glow in the sunlight in winter. This species prefers moist soil in sunny marshes and around human-made impoundments. In some wet places they form rows or screens of themselves that are attractive to see, particularly when mingling with willows and other wetland plants. Red-osier dogwoods are sometimes planted in moist ground for their attractive, red twigs that add color and beauty to wet, winter landscapes. A kind of saw-fly lays eggs on red-osier dogwood leaves in summer. The resulting larvae eat the leaves, pupate in the ground, and emerge as flying adults that lay eggs on other red-osier dogwoods.
The beauties of hazel-nut shrubbery are visible early in March. Then the numerous and obvious, two-inch-long, yellow male catkins undulate gracefully in the breeze. And, at the same time, the tiny, red tenacles of diminutive female flowers emerge from woody "pots" on the twigs. Those lovely, red fingers, that we have to look for, receive wind-blown pollen from male hazel-nut catkins and produce the hazel nuts that are ripe and available to people and wildlife early in fall. Black bears, white-tailed deer, gray squirrels, mice, wild turkeys and blue jays are some of the creatures that eat hazel nuts in fall and winter.
These kinds of shrubs, and the critters that consume their berries, seeds or nuts, add beauty to the habitats they live in during winter and early spring, times when we need all the natural beauties we can get. We only need to get out at the right time in the right places to enjoy them and be uplifted by their beauties and intrigues.
Winter-berry bushes are also called deciduous hollies because they are a holly that loses its leaves in autumn and grows new ones the next spring. The main beauty of this shrub, whether wild in wooded bottomlands with damp soil, or planted on lawns, is its many decorative, red berries on female plants. Those berries stand out vividly before gray, deciduous bark and are eventually eaten by rodents, and American robins, cedar waxwings and other kinds of berry-eating birds that add their feathered beauties to that of winter-berry bushes late in winter and into early spring.
Speckled alders are most attractive in winter. They are called speckled because of the obvious lenticels on their bark. In winter they are abundantly adorned with many inch-long, dull-purple male catkins that swing in a breeze and half-inch long, woody "cones" that contained last year's seeds. Stands of this type of alder line brooks and streams in cow pastures where they receive abundant sunlight. White-tailed deer, cottontail rabbits, muskrats, field voles and white-footed mice browse their twigs, buds and bark in winter.
Red-osier dogwood shrubbery has strikingly red stems that seem to glow in the sunlight in winter. This species prefers moist soil in sunny marshes and around human-made impoundments. In some wet places they form rows or screens of themselves that are attractive to see, particularly when mingling with willows and other wetland plants. Red-osier dogwoods are sometimes planted in moist ground for their attractive, red twigs that add color and beauty to wet, winter landscapes. A kind of saw-fly lays eggs on red-osier dogwood leaves in summer. The resulting larvae eat the leaves, pupate in the ground, and emerge as flying adults that lay eggs on other red-osier dogwoods.
The beauties of hazel-nut shrubbery are visible early in March. Then the numerous and obvious, two-inch-long, yellow male catkins undulate gracefully in the breeze. And, at the same time, the tiny, red tenacles of diminutive female flowers emerge from woody "pots" on the twigs. Those lovely, red fingers, that we have to look for, receive wind-blown pollen from male hazel-nut catkins and produce the hazel nuts that are ripe and available to people and wildlife early in fall. Black bears, white-tailed deer, gray squirrels, mice, wild turkeys and blue jays are some of the creatures that eat hazel nuts in fall and winter.
These kinds of shrubs, and the critters that consume their berries, seeds or nuts, add beauty to the habitats they live in during winter and early spring, times when we need all the natural beauties we can get. We only need to get out at the right time in the right places to enjoy them and be uplifted by their beauties and intrigues.
Friday, February 12, 2016
American Robins are Everywhere
Yesterday, in mid-February, I was driving here and there to do errands. And as I drove, I saw a few flocks of attractive American robins in different places. Two groups were feeding on crab apple fruits, or berries on bushes, and the third was drinking and bathing in a little suburban brook. It occurred to me that I had been seeing a lot of robins in the past several winters here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, and elsewhere. And that I see many robins throughout each year, almost exclusively in human-made habitats, particularly in farmland and suburban areas. Because of their ability to adapt to human-made conditions, robins are almost everywhere, in abundance, the year around, in North America. They owe their abundance to our activities, and their being able to adapt to those activities and the habitats they create.
American robins are a kind of thrush. Most thrushes in North America nest in deep forests. Those species have declined in numbers as forest acres decreased. But robins probably originated in woodland openings of successional growth, and when eastern North American forests were removed for cropland, robin populations increased dramatically in ever-expanding clearings. Success of failure of any species is mostly due to habitat.
Today most robins nest in newer suburban areas, an ever-growing, human-made habitat, with their younger trees and shrubbery, just as they did/do in woodland clearings. We see robins running and stopping, running and stopping across short-grass lawns across much of North America in search of earthworms and other types of invertebrates. And we see them feeding their young in their nurseries of grass and mud in young trees and bushes and the newly fledged youngsters on our lawns begging their parents for food. Some of those young robins are preyed on by hawks, cats, crows and other predators. Accipitor hawks catch some adult robins.
When robin pairs have raised two broods of young by the end of July, most robins disappear from our lawns. They form flocks of a score or more birds, both young and older birds, in fields and along hedgerows between fields. There they feed on invertebrates and berries and grow fat through autumn to better survive either migration or the coming winter in the north. One can spot the younger robins by the dark spots remaining on their rusty-colored chests.
Some robins do go south to avoid northern winters, but many others stay north all winter. These are the robins I enjoy seeing the most.
In winter, local groups of robins dwell mostly in older suburbs with their many planted coniferous trees that shelter robins from predators and cold winds at night and their numerous deciduous, berry-bearing shrubs and trees that provide food for robin gatherings through that harshest of seasons. Some congregations of robins feed on berries in hedgerows, but retreat to suburban conifers for the night.
The beautiful robins in winter are a joy for us to see. Their presence doesn't claim that spring is here like many people think they do. But they do represent the tenacity of life when conditions are rough. And they provide life, beauty and daily activities to our lawns in winter, beauty and activities that lift many a human emotion weary of winter's hardships.
By the beginning of March, more flocks of robins from farther south pour into Lancaster County and much of the north. These birds are harbingers of the vernal season. They run across lawns looking for earthworms and other invertebrates. But if the weather turns severely cold or snow again covers the ground, the robins will turn again to eating berries and crab apple fruits.
And by the end of March, the striking male American robins begin to sing to claim nesting territories and attract females to them for mating and raising offspring. Spring is undeniably here.
Look for the lovely American robins through the year in much of North America. They are a hardy, adaptable, beautiful species of native thrushes that benefit from human-made habitats.
American robins are a kind of thrush. Most thrushes in North America nest in deep forests. Those species have declined in numbers as forest acres decreased. But robins probably originated in woodland openings of successional growth, and when eastern North American forests were removed for cropland, robin populations increased dramatically in ever-expanding clearings. Success of failure of any species is mostly due to habitat.
Today most robins nest in newer suburban areas, an ever-growing, human-made habitat, with their younger trees and shrubbery, just as they did/do in woodland clearings. We see robins running and stopping, running and stopping across short-grass lawns across much of North America in search of earthworms and other types of invertebrates. And we see them feeding their young in their nurseries of grass and mud in young trees and bushes and the newly fledged youngsters on our lawns begging their parents for food. Some of those young robins are preyed on by hawks, cats, crows and other predators. Accipitor hawks catch some adult robins.
When robin pairs have raised two broods of young by the end of July, most robins disappear from our lawns. They form flocks of a score or more birds, both young and older birds, in fields and along hedgerows between fields. There they feed on invertebrates and berries and grow fat through autumn to better survive either migration or the coming winter in the north. One can spot the younger robins by the dark spots remaining on their rusty-colored chests.
Some robins do go south to avoid northern winters, but many others stay north all winter. These are the robins I enjoy seeing the most.
In winter, local groups of robins dwell mostly in older suburbs with their many planted coniferous trees that shelter robins from predators and cold winds at night and their numerous deciduous, berry-bearing shrubs and trees that provide food for robin gatherings through that harshest of seasons. Some congregations of robins feed on berries in hedgerows, but retreat to suburban conifers for the night.
The beautiful robins in winter are a joy for us to see. Their presence doesn't claim that spring is here like many people think they do. But they do represent the tenacity of life when conditions are rough. And they provide life, beauty and daily activities to our lawns in winter, beauty and activities that lift many a human emotion weary of winter's hardships.
By the beginning of March, more flocks of robins from farther south pour into Lancaster County and much of the north. These birds are harbingers of the vernal season. They run across lawns looking for earthworms and other invertebrates. But if the weather turns severely cold or snow again covers the ground, the robins will turn again to eating berries and crab apple fruits.
And by the end of March, the striking male American robins begin to sing to claim nesting territories and attract females to them for mating and raising offspring. Spring is undeniably here.
Look for the lovely American robins through the year in much of North America. They are a hardy, adaptable, beautiful species of native thrushes that benefit from human-made habitats.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
A Beautiful Snowfall
Snow fell most of the day in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania on February 9, 2016. It was a heavy, wet snowfall, the kind that can be packed into snowballs and snow people. Sometimes, big, lovely flakes floated to the ground, where they nestled gently among their frosty fellows. The ground was covered with about five inches of new, clean snow and wind plastered snow onto one side of every tree. Every tall weed, every bare, deciduous twig and limb on trees and shrubbery, and every needled bough was covered with wet snow, making beautiful scenery that was new and fresh. And the trees stood tall and silhouetted before a blending of snow on the ground, and in the air, and thick fog, making them the more striking.
I drove through suburban areas and farmland to see what birds were visible in spite of the snow. I saw three groups of mourning doves among the fields, one huddled on a few deciduous trees in a hedgerow, another hunkered quietly on corn stubble in a harvested corn field and the third decorating a tall spruce tree where the needled limbs protected the doves from the wind.
I saw a song sparrow hunched on top of a wood pile and another along a meadow brook bordered by snow-covered banks. The doves and sparrows are permanent residents here, enduring whatever weather comes their way.
About a half-dozen each of attractive American robins and eastern bluebirds were in a crab apple tree loaded with small fruits. Those birds busily devoured some of the fruits as fast as they could before flying off into the storm to a sheltered place to rest and digest.
I saw a few, small flocks of permanent resident Canada geese in harvested corn fields that were planted to winter rye last fall. The stately geese were plucking the green shoots of the rye and shoveling up waste corn kernels from the snow.
Gatherings of starlings, here and there, rapidly poked their beaks through the snow to the roots level of lawn grass and rye in the fields to eat seeds, grain and invertebrates. I call starlings "grasspipers" because of that feeding action.
Groups of sparrow-sized horned larks were again along plowed roadside shoulders to ingest seeds and tiny bits of stones. Horned larks are the most abundant species of bird in Lancaster County cropland, which is apparent when the ground is covered with snow. They consume grit to help grind the seeds they ate in their stomachs.
I saw a few pairs of majestic red-tailed hawks perched together in lone deciduous trees in the fields. I see a lot of them these days because this is the red-tails' courting season. And I saw clusters of rock pigeons huddled together on top of some silos to wait out the storm.
After the snowfall, the landscape is beautiful with a fresh carpet of clean snow, whether under gray skies or blue. But I think blue skies with puffy, white and gray cumulus clouds, and bright sunshine makes the countryside more beautiful and cheery. And the gray of deciduous trees and the green of coniferous ones are accentuated by the snow and sunlight.
The alternately melting and refreezing of snow on trees and roofs, day after day, causes translucent and sparkling icicles that are pretty, but potentially dangerous when they fall. Melting snow dribbles off sun-warmed objects, but refreezes at night, starting the formation of icicles. Day after day, more melted snow drips down the icicles and freezes, causing those icy stalagtites to get longer and longer.
After a snowfall, birds continue to search for food, but now particularly at bird feeders, along plowed roadsides and among berry-bearing vegetation. And killdeer plovers and American pipits, both species of bare-ground fields, now catch invertebrates in the shallows along still-running brooks in sunny cow pastures.
Snow is dangerous and a pain to deal with, but it has its beauties, in itself, and in the plants and animals that live in it. After we are done dealing with snow, we can sit back and enjoy its beauties.
I drove through suburban areas and farmland to see what birds were visible in spite of the snow. I saw three groups of mourning doves among the fields, one huddled on a few deciduous trees in a hedgerow, another hunkered quietly on corn stubble in a harvested corn field and the third decorating a tall spruce tree where the needled limbs protected the doves from the wind.
I saw a song sparrow hunched on top of a wood pile and another along a meadow brook bordered by snow-covered banks. The doves and sparrows are permanent residents here, enduring whatever weather comes their way.
About a half-dozen each of attractive American robins and eastern bluebirds were in a crab apple tree loaded with small fruits. Those birds busily devoured some of the fruits as fast as they could before flying off into the storm to a sheltered place to rest and digest.
I saw a few, small flocks of permanent resident Canada geese in harvested corn fields that were planted to winter rye last fall. The stately geese were plucking the green shoots of the rye and shoveling up waste corn kernels from the snow.
Gatherings of starlings, here and there, rapidly poked their beaks through the snow to the roots level of lawn grass and rye in the fields to eat seeds, grain and invertebrates. I call starlings "grasspipers" because of that feeding action.
Groups of sparrow-sized horned larks were again along plowed roadside shoulders to ingest seeds and tiny bits of stones. Horned larks are the most abundant species of bird in Lancaster County cropland, which is apparent when the ground is covered with snow. They consume grit to help grind the seeds they ate in their stomachs.
I saw a few pairs of majestic red-tailed hawks perched together in lone deciduous trees in the fields. I see a lot of them these days because this is the red-tails' courting season. And I saw clusters of rock pigeons huddled together on top of some silos to wait out the storm.
After the snowfall, the landscape is beautiful with a fresh carpet of clean snow, whether under gray skies or blue. But I think blue skies with puffy, white and gray cumulus clouds, and bright sunshine makes the countryside more beautiful and cheery. And the gray of deciduous trees and the green of coniferous ones are accentuated by the snow and sunlight.
The alternately melting and refreezing of snow on trees and roofs, day after day, causes translucent and sparkling icicles that are pretty, but potentially dangerous when they fall. Melting snow dribbles off sun-warmed objects, but refreezes at night, starting the formation of icicles. Day after day, more melted snow drips down the icicles and freezes, causing those icy stalagtites to get longer and longer.
After a snowfall, birds continue to search for food, but now particularly at bird feeders, along plowed roadsides and among berry-bearing vegetation. And killdeer plovers and American pipits, both species of bare-ground fields, now catch invertebrates in the shallows along still-running brooks in sunny cow pastures.
Snow is dangerous and a pain to deal with, but it has its beauties, in itself, and in the plants and animals that live in it. After we are done dealing with snow, we can sit back and enjoy its beauties.
Saturday, February 6, 2016
Wintering Farmland Birds
On February 5, 2016, I drove through a bit of farmland around New Holland, Pennsylvania for an hour and a half to see what birds were around. The sky was partly cloudy with scattered white and pale-gray cumulus clouds and the ground was mostly green from fields of winter rye, with patches of snow, making the day lovely with beautiful scenery.
The first birds I saw was a collection of about 20 turkey vultures and a few black vultures swirling together low in the sky over a field. Black vultures fly differently than turkey vultures, with intermittent periods of sailing and rapid wing beats rather than the turkey vultures' constant soaring with few slow wing beats. A long chicken house was under that circling group of vultures and I thought there were dead chickens lying in the field that attracted all those avian scavengers. But since there was no way to get closer to that chicken house, or the vultures, I couldn't know for sure by personal observation.
Moving on, I saw a few other turkey vultures circling and descending gracefully to a harvested corn field with manure spread on it. I stopped at that field to observe what the vultures, and the few American crows that were with them, were eating. About 14 vultures, and the crows, were eating bits of chicken bodies that were dumped in the field to decompose with the manure to enrich the soil. That food is gross to us, but it was easy, nutritious pickings for the vultures and crows.
As I continued to drive along, I saw many rock pigeons crowded on top of some silos, which seem to be their favorite resting places between feeding forays. And I spotted an occasional flock of pigeons powering swiftly through the air, or walking about in a corn field to consume corn kernels. These pigeons are truly wild, though they raise young in barns and feed in fields. Both those niches are human-made to serve people needs, but the pigeons long ago adapted to them.
Along one rural road, I saw a falcon flying low over a field. Not knowing if it was a merlin or an American kestrel, I stropped to check it with binoculars. It was a female kestrel carrying a mouse in her talons. She landed on the ground to consume her catch.
Not far from the dining kestrel, I saw a pair of red-tailed hawks perched together in a lone tree in a field. This is red-tails' breeding season and that pair probably had a nest in a tree somewhere near by. I knew they were a mated pair because one hawk was slightly bigger than the other. With all hawks, eagles and owls, females are a bit bigger than their mates.
In a partly flooded cow pasture off another country road, I saw many larger birds. Checking those birds with binoculars, I estimated over 200 Canada geese and about 100 mallard ducks. And I counted two pairs of American wigeon ducks and one drake northern pintail duck. All those waterfowl were eating green vegetation and seeds from the pools in the meadow. A day of steady rain a couple of days ago and melting snow made that pasture a marsh of short grass and other plants that attracted the waterfowl to it.
Anyone with an interest to do so can do the same as I did in their own area. Just get out in nature to experience some of its beauties and intrigues.
The first birds I saw was a collection of about 20 turkey vultures and a few black vultures swirling together low in the sky over a field. Black vultures fly differently than turkey vultures, with intermittent periods of sailing and rapid wing beats rather than the turkey vultures' constant soaring with few slow wing beats. A long chicken house was under that circling group of vultures and I thought there were dead chickens lying in the field that attracted all those avian scavengers. But since there was no way to get closer to that chicken house, or the vultures, I couldn't know for sure by personal observation.
Moving on, I saw a few other turkey vultures circling and descending gracefully to a harvested corn field with manure spread on it. I stopped at that field to observe what the vultures, and the few American crows that were with them, were eating. About 14 vultures, and the crows, were eating bits of chicken bodies that were dumped in the field to decompose with the manure to enrich the soil. That food is gross to us, but it was easy, nutritious pickings for the vultures and crows.
As I continued to drive along, I saw many rock pigeons crowded on top of some silos, which seem to be their favorite resting places between feeding forays. And I spotted an occasional flock of pigeons powering swiftly through the air, or walking about in a corn field to consume corn kernels. These pigeons are truly wild, though they raise young in barns and feed in fields. Both those niches are human-made to serve people needs, but the pigeons long ago adapted to them.
Along one rural road, I saw a falcon flying low over a field. Not knowing if it was a merlin or an American kestrel, I stropped to check it with binoculars. It was a female kestrel carrying a mouse in her talons. She landed on the ground to consume her catch.
Not far from the dining kestrel, I saw a pair of red-tailed hawks perched together in a lone tree in a field. This is red-tails' breeding season and that pair probably had a nest in a tree somewhere near by. I knew they were a mated pair because one hawk was slightly bigger than the other. With all hawks, eagles and owls, females are a bit bigger than their mates.
In a partly flooded cow pasture off another country road, I saw many larger birds. Checking those birds with binoculars, I estimated over 200 Canada geese and about 100 mallard ducks. And I counted two pairs of American wigeon ducks and one drake northern pintail duck. All those waterfowl were eating green vegetation and seeds from the pools in the meadow. A day of steady rain a couple of days ago and melting snow made that pasture a marsh of short grass and other plants that attracted the waterfowl to it.
Anyone with an interest to do so can do the same as I did in their own area. Just get out in nature to experience some of its beauties and intrigues.
Friday, February 5, 2016
Wintering Birds at Conowingo Dam
On February 2, 2016, I spent two hours at Conowingo Dam on the Susquehanna River in northern Maryland to experience wintering birds. I saw many birds of several kinds, and some of their activites during the short time I was there.
The dam holds water above it, letting some go through its turbines to generate electricity. But the water level below the dam is low, revealing fish; and unfrozen in winter because of the turbulence of the water that fell through the generators and welled up below the dam. That open water in winter, particularly when everthing else is frozen shut, is a dinner bell for fish-eating birds and other avian species.
Many ring-billed gulls and several each of herring and great black-backed gulls were the first birds I saw. Some gulls were flying back and forth low over the river to get food while others rested on gravel bars and mid-river boulders between feeding forays. Twice, many of the gulls flew up in a big, swirling mass when a hunting bald eagle sailed over them. The petite ring-bills were graceful on the wing; their flight was light and airy. But the large herrings and great black-backs were ponderous and powerful in flight. All these gulls catch live fish and scavenge them. But black-backs are also pirates, stealing fish from smaller gulls and common merganser ducks.
The longer I stayed at the dam, the more bald eagles, both adults and immatures, I was thrilled to see. There must have have been over 20 of them that I saw soaring in the air, or perched on shoreline trees, mid-river boulders and on tall power towers. One adult bald flew down-river, carrying a fish in its talons. And five eagles fought over a dead fish on a gravel bar near shore. Bald eagles are scavengers and pirates, as well as catchers of live fish and other critters.
On February 3rd I saw on the internet that someone counted over a hundred bald eagles at Safe Harbor Dam on the Susquehanna in Pennsylvania. Fifty years ago, and less, a person would have been lucky to see one bald at Safe Harbor. Someone else on the internet noted that perhaps many of those eagles at Safe Harbor came from Conowingo, which is several miles south of Safe Harbor. And another person counted over 80 bald eagles on February 1 in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland, which adjoins Maryland. There is a great number of wintering bald eagles at Conowingo, Safe Harbor, Lancaster County farmland and other, nearby places these days, which is a tribute to the eagles' adapting and people who have been instrumental in bringing bald eagles back from the brink of extinction.
Over 20 black vultures were around the Conowingo Dam. Some were in the air, while others perched on shoreline trees and power towers. Black vultures are unmistakable in flight, intermittently soaring and rapidly beating their wings.
Black vultures and turkey vultures, of which I saw a few at Conowingo, are scavengers. Both species will eat any dead animal, including fish along waterways and impoundments. Turkey vultures are better at finding carcasses because they have a well-developed sense of smell, something that almost all other birds do not.
American crows and fish crows winter along the Susquehanna, including at Conowingo Dam. They, too, scavenge fish and other animals that wash up on shore.
I saw three other species of fish-eaters at Conowingo on February 2, including several great blue herons, a belted kingfisher and several common merganser ducks. These species catch different sized fish and hunt them in different ways, all of which reduces competition among them. Herons wade in more shallow water and grab larger fish with their long beaks. Kingfishers dive anywhere in the water bill-first to catch small fish in their bills and mergansers slip under water from the surface to seize small fish in their serrated beaks.
A few each of Canada geese, mallard ducks and black ducks rafted on the river the day I was there. The rest on the river and other bodies of water, but twice-daily fly to harvested corn fields to feed on corn kernels.
A flock of rock pigeons live and nest on the dam, as their ancestors have on rock cliffs above the Mediterranean Sea. These pigeons drop to the river to drink, but fly swiftly to fields to feed on seeds and grain.
All the birds I saw wintering at Conowingo Dam have a reason to be there. The community of birds they create at the dam is well worth experiencing any winter.
The dam holds water above it, letting some go through its turbines to generate electricity. But the water level below the dam is low, revealing fish; and unfrozen in winter because of the turbulence of the water that fell through the generators and welled up below the dam. That open water in winter, particularly when everthing else is frozen shut, is a dinner bell for fish-eating birds and other avian species.
Many ring-billed gulls and several each of herring and great black-backed gulls were the first birds I saw. Some gulls were flying back and forth low over the river to get food while others rested on gravel bars and mid-river boulders between feeding forays. Twice, many of the gulls flew up in a big, swirling mass when a hunting bald eagle sailed over them. The petite ring-bills were graceful on the wing; their flight was light and airy. But the large herrings and great black-backs were ponderous and powerful in flight. All these gulls catch live fish and scavenge them. But black-backs are also pirates, stealing fish from smaller gulls and common merganser ducks.
The longer I stayed at the dam, the more bald eagles, both adults and immatures, I was thrilled to see. There must have have been over 20 of them that I saw soaring in the air, or perched on shoreline trees, mid-river boulders and on tall power towers. One adult bald flew down-river, carrying a fish in its talons. And five eagles fought over a dead fish on a gravel bar near shore. Bald eagles are scavengers and pirates, as well as catchers of live fish and other critters.
On February 3rd I saw on the internet that someone counted over a hundred bald eagles at Safe Harbor Dam on the Susquehanna in Pennsylvania. Fifty years ago, and less, a person would have been lucky to see one bald at Safe Harbor. Someone else on the internet noted that perhaps many of those eagles at Safe Harbor came from Conowingo, which is several miles south of Safe Harbor. And another person counted over 80 bald eagles on February 1 in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland, which adjoins Maryland. There is a great number of wintering bald eagles at Conowingo, Safe Harbor, Lancaster County farmland and other, nearby places these days, which is a tribute to the eagles' adapting and people who have been instrumental in bringing bald eagles back from the brink of extinction.
Over 20 black vultures were around the Conowingo Dam. Some were in the air, while others perched on shoreline trees and power towers. Black vultures are unmistakable in flight, intermittently soaring and rapidly beating their wings.
Black vultures and turkey vultures, of which I saw a few at Conowingo, are scavengers. Both species will eat any dead animal, including fish along waterways and impoundments. Turkey vultures are better at finding carcasses because they have a well-developed sense of smell, something that almost all other birds do not.
American crows and fish crows winter along the Susquehanna, including at Conowingo Dam. They, too, scavenge fish and other animals that wash up on shore.
I saw three other species of fish-eaters at Conowingo on February 2, including several great blue herons, a belted kingfisher and several common merganser ducks. These species catch different sized fish and hunt them in different ways, all of which reduces competition among them. Herons wade in more shallow water and grab larger fish with their long beaks. Kingfishers dive anywhere in the water bill-first to catch small fish in their bills and mergansers slip under water from the surface to seize small fish in their serrated beaks.
A few each of Canada geese, mallard ducks and black ducks rafted on the river the day I was there. The rest on the river and other bodies of water, but twice-daily fly to harvested corn fields to feed on corn kernels.
A flock of rock pigeons live and nest on the dam, as their ancestors have on rock cliffs above the Mediterranean Sea. These pigeons drop to the river to drink, but fly swiftly to fields to feed on seeds and grain.
All the birds I saw wintering at Conowingo Dam have a reason to be there. The community of birds they create at the dam is well worth experiencing any winter.
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Birds Expected in Winter Farmland
For an hour and a half late in the morning of February 1, 2016, I drove through cropland just outside of New Holland, Pennsylvania to see wintering farmland birds. The fields were mostly snow-covered, with some patches of exposed soil. And the snow was slowly melting.
A flock of horned larks was the first birds I saw that morning. The camouflaged larks were eating seeds from a patch of bare ground in a harvested corn field. I only saw them because a few of them were walking on the snow.
While watching those handsome larks, I also noticed a few each of jet-black American crows, petite mourning doves and pretty rock pigeons eating corn kernels in snow-free areas of that same field. And while I watched those birds, a group of 18 majestic Canada geese circled that same field and gracefully parachuted down into the wind for flight control to it to feed on corn kernels, honking musically all the while.
Driving by a pasture, I saw a gang of starlings poking their beaks into the short grass to catch invertebrates among the grass roots. And I noticed four handsome killdeer plovers also getting invertebrates from the grass roots level.
Continuing on slowly, I saw a pair of red-tailed hawks soaring, then perching together on a lone tree in a field. It is their breeding season and I suspect they have a stick platform nursery in a nearby tree in a field or hedgerow.
I also noted a few turkey vultures and an adult bald eagle circling over the fields in search of dead animals to scavenge. The vultures and eagle were stately soaring on high, and added to the natural interest of that farmland.
I stopped a few minutes by an overgrown meadow of a few acres that straddled a free-running brook. Multiflora rose bushes and poison ivy vines, both loaded with berries, sapling trees, and tall, dead weeds, including goldenrods, common milkweeds and evening primroses, all loaded with seeds, composed the pasture's thickets. A blue jay, a northern mockingbird and a small gathering of American robins were eating berries, but not peacefully. The mocker was trying to chase the other birds away from "his" berries.
A song sparrow, a pair of northern cardinals and several each of American goldfinches and white-throated sparrows were ingesting seeds from the still-standing weeds. And some individuals of those latter two species of seed-eating birds ingested seeds off the ground.
My last stop was by a creek in a short-grass meadow where I saw several pairs of mallard ducks resting on slower-moving water. As soon as I stopped by the water, a great blue heron that I didn't see flew up and away downstream a bit before plunking into the water again in hopes of catching fish. A male belted kingfisher flew from perch to perch by the creek in his quest for small fish to eat.
While watching the ducks, heron and kingfisher, I decided to scan the muddy and grassy shores of that creek with my 16 power binoculars for Wilson's snipe, which is a kind of inland sandpiper. But being highly camouflaged along the shores of waterways and ponds, snipe are not easy to spot, even with field glasses. But, sure enough, I spotted three beautiful snipe, each one poking its long bill rapidly into the mud under shallow water to catch invertebrates. And while scanning for snipe, I noticed a couple of American pipits tail-wagging along the shore in search of tiny invertebrates.
My search for wintering farmland birds in Lancaster County was successful. I saw many of the bird species I would expect to see in cropland in winter. And all of them were doing what they should have been doing. There is peace and pleasure in the everyday.
A flock of horned larks was the first birds I saw that morning. The camouflaged larks were eating seeds from a patch of bare ground in a harvested corn field. I only saw them because a few of them were walking on the snow.
While watching those handsome larks, I also noticed a few each of jet-black American crows, petite mourning doves and pretty rock pigeons eating corn kernels in snow-free areas of that same field. And while I watched those birds, a group of 18 majestic Canada geese circled that same field and gracefully parachuted down into the wind for flight control to it to feed on corn kernels, honking musically all the while.
Driving by a pasture, I saw a gang of starlings poking their beaks into the short grass to catch invertebrates among the grass roots. And I noticed four handsome killdeer plovers also getting invertebrates from the grass roots level.
Continuing on slowly, I saw a pair of red-tailed hawks soaring, then perching together on a lone tree in a field. It is their breeding season and I suspect they have a stick platform nursery in a nearby tree in a field or hedgerow.
I also noted a few turkey vultures and an adult bald eagle circling over the fields in search of dead animals to scavenge. The vultures and eagle were stately soaring on high, and added to the natural interest of that farmland.
I stopped a few minutes by an overgrown meadow of a few acres that straddled a free-running brook. Multiflora rose bushes and poison ivy vines, both loaded with berries, sapling trees, and tall, dead weeds, including goldenrods, common milkweeds and evening primroses, all loaded with seeds, composed the pasture's thickets. A blue jay, a northern mockingbird and a small gathering of American robins were eating berries, but not peacefully. The mocker was trying to chase the other birds away from "his" berries.
A song sparrow, a pair of northern cardinals and several each of American goldfinches and white-throated sparrows were ingesting seeds from the still-standing weeds. And some individuals of those latter two species of seed-eating birds ingested seeds off the ground.
My last stop was by a creek in a short-grass meadow where I saw several pairs of mallard ducks resting on slower-moving water. As soon as I stopped by the water, a great blue heron that I didn't see flew up and away downstream a bit before plunking into the water again in hopes of catching fish. A male belted kingfisher flew from perch to perch by the creek in his quest for small fish to eat.
While watching the ducks, heron and kingfisher, I decided to scan the muddy and grassy shores of that creek with my 16 power binoculars for Wilson's snipe, which is a kind of inland sandpiper. But being highly camouflaged along the shores of waterways and ponds, snipe are not easy to spot, even with field glasses. But, sure enough, I spotted three beautiful snipe, each one poking its long bill rapidly into the mud under shallow water to catch invertebrates. And while scanning for snipe, I noticed a couple of American pipits tail-wagging along the shore in search of tiny invertebrates.
My search for wintering farmland birds in Lancaster County was successful. I saw many of the bird species I would expect to see in cropland in winter. And all of them were doing what they should have been doing. There is peace and pleasure in the everyday.
Monday, February 1, 2016
Wintering Roadside Fringillidae
Fringillidae are a family of seed-eating birds, including sparrows, finches, grosbeaks and buntings. Several species of this family winter in the Mid-Atlantic States because they find seeds and grain to eat, even when snow is on the ground.
For an hour and a half one afternoon in late January, after a deep snowfall, I was treated to scores of sparrows and other fringillidae along farmland roadsides that bordered woodlots and thickets of trees, shrubs, vines, and tall weeds and grasses in Chester County, Pennsylvania. These are human-made habitats where a variety of adaptable, seed-eating birds, in abundance, find shelter from weather and predators, and seeds and berries to eat in winter. But these birds are not noticed much until snow covers the ground. After a snowfall, however, we see how common they are in certain thickets in winter.
Those birds were easily seen while driving along rural roads because the deep snow cover forced them to eat seeds and tiny stones from thin strips of soil exposed along those roads by plowing. The small stones, or grit, grind the seeds in the birds' powerful stomachs.
White-throated sparrows were the most common of their kin along those roads, followed by song sparrows. And there were little groups of dark-eyed juncos, American goldfinches, northern cardinals, white-crowned sparrows and tree sparrows in that arbitrary order of abundance. And there also was one each of a towhee and a fox sparrow, helping diversify the species of fringillidae.
All the sparrow species, except the juncos, are brown with darker streaking, plumage patterns that camouflage them in shrubbery and on the ground. Those species are identified mostly by striking color patterns on their heads. White-throated sparrows and white-crowned sparrows, for example, have black and white striped crowns. The white-throats do have white throat patches. Tree sparrows have red crowns.
Sparrows are ground feeders, mostly, which is why they come to bared roadsides after a snowfall, to get exposed seeds and grit when snow covers the ground. Many species of fringillidae dig backwards with both feet at once to expose seeds in the ground.
As most birds do in cold weather, perched sparrows and their kin puff out their feathers. Fluffed out feathers trap more air between them, air that is warmed by the birds' body heat and keeps them warmer.
These sparrows, and other kinds of wintering fringillidae, come to bird feeders to eat seeds and grain. There we humans can admire the birds more closely, and daily. But there, too, they are vulnerable to the attacks of sharp-shinned hawks and house cats. Both these predators hide in vegetation for the right moment to kill an impaired bird, such as a partly blind house finch or an injured bird. Those predators actually perform a service to the birds by eliminating the infirm.
Watch for various types of birds along roads after a deep snowfall. They help make a ride more enjoyable and inspiring.
For an hour and a half one afternoon in late January, after a deep snowfall, I was treated to scores of sparrows and other fringillidae along farmland roadsides that bordered woodlots and thickets of trees, shrubs, vines, and tall weeds and grasses in Chester County, Pennsylvania. These are human-made habitats where a variety of adaptable, seed-eating birds, in abundance, find shelter from weather and predators, and seeds and berries to eat in winter. But these birds are not noticed much until snow covers the ground. After a snowfall, however, we see how common they are in certain thickets in winter.
Those birds were easily seen while driving along rural roads because the deep snow cover forced them to eat seeds and tiny stones from thin strips of soil exposed along those roads by plowing. The small stones, or grit, grind the seeds in the birds' powerful stomachs.
White-throated sparrows were the most common of their kin along those roads, followed by song sparrows. And there were little groups of dark-eyed juncos, American goldfinches, northern cardinals, white-crowned sparrows and tree sparrows in that arbitrary order of abundance. And there also was one each of a towhee and a fox sparrow, helping diversify the species of fringillidae.
All the sparrow species, except the juncos, are brown with darker streaking, plumage patterns that camouflage them in shrubbery and on the ground. Those species are identified mostly by striking color patterns on their heads. White-throated sparrows and white-crowned sparrows, for example, have black and white striped crowns. The white-throats do have white throat patches. Tree sparrows have red crowns.
Sparrows are ground feeders, mostly, which is why they come to bared roadsides after a snowfall, to get exposed seeds and grit when snow covers the ground. Many species of fringillidae dig backwards with both feet at once to expose seeds in the ground.
As most birds do in cold weather, perched sparrows and their kin puff out their feathers. Fluffed out feathers trap more air between them, air that is warmed by the birds' body heat and keeps them warmer.
These sparrows, and other kinds of wintering fringillidae, come to bird feeders to eat seeds and grain. There we humans can admire the birds more closely, and daily. But there, too, they are vulnerable to the attacks of sharp-shinned hawks and house cats. Both these predators hide in vegetation for the right moment to kill an impaired bird, such as a partly blind house finch or an injured bird. Those predators actually perform a service to the birds by eliminating the infirm.
Watch for various types of birds along roads after a deep snowfall. They help make a ride more enjoyable and inspiring.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)