Striking Local Insects

     With the heat of summer, we will see and hear a variety of common insects here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  All of them have beauties and intrigues that make them interesting to experience.  But many of them get eaten by birds and other kinds of creatures.  Following is a collection of my favorite striking and local insects.
     Monarch and tiger swallowtail butterflies are my favorites of their beautiful clan.  Monarchs are large and orange and black, which makes them noticeable on flowers late in summer and into September.  And monarchs have an interesting life history of four generations a year, the last one migrating to Mexico for the winter.  Those same migrants start north the next March, but stop to mate in the southwest United States, lay eggs on milkweed plants and die.  Succeeding generations continue the trip north.     
     The big tiger swallowtails are yellow and black, and noticeable fluttering on flowers through summer.  Their larvae eat a variety of tree leaves in deciduous woods.
     Spicebush swallowtail butterfly caterpillars are green, which blends them into the spicebush and sassafras leaves they eat.  They also spin webbing to close the leaf they are eating around themselves for further protection.  And they have two large, dark spots on their "backs" right behind their heads.  Those black spots look like eyes to intimidate birds and other critters that might eat the caterpillars.  So well are those fake eyes designed that when I look into them, they seem to be looking back at me.
     Eyed elater click beetles live under logs and fallen leaves on forest floors.  They are about an inch long and gray, which camouflages them.  And they have two large, black spots, again like eyes, but fake, on the top of their thoraxes, which intimidate skunks or birds that dig them up to consume.
     We experience some insects in great masses in summer, including fire flies, honey bees, bald-faced hornets and true katydids.  Each evening in June and July, we see thousands of male fire flies crawl up grass stems where they spent the day, take flight and flash their cold, abdominal lights as they fly or land on tree leaves, creating a fantasy world where fairies dance in the light of stars and fireflies.  These flashing beetles, they really are beetles that do flash, continue lighting their lanterns every few seconds into the night to stir female fireflies into flashing their weaker lights in the grass.  Then the genders unite to mate and lay eggs.
     Honey bees are originally from Eurasia and were brought to North America to pollinate crops and make honey, which they do quite well.  This species lives in colonies of thousands of sterile, female workers, a queen and a handful of drones (males).  Honey bees in North America live in hives built for them, and in tree hollows and other protected places in the wild.  Their high numbers visiting flowers in groups is their greatest beauty.
     Each spring, fertilized, queen bald-faced hornets emerge from hibernation in the soil and each one begins a colony of offspring by making a tiny paper nest on a tree branch.  She lays an egg in each of several paper cells under the paper covering and feeds small insects to the resulting larvae.  When those first female youngsters mature and are able to fly, they take over the business of the hive, including enlarging the nest and feeding insects to the larvae and flower nectar to the queen, while she continues to lay eggs.
     As each bald-faced hornet colony grows, their paper nest gets bigger.  Female workers chew bits of wood into paper and add them to the protective nest shell and the paper cells inside.  But during the frosts of autumn, the workers and drones die while the queens dig deep into the ground to avoid frost and emerge the next spring.      
     We hear true katydids fiddling from dusk into the dark of night in the treetops of woodlands from late July into October, when frost kills them.  Katydids are related to grasshoppers, but ingest deciduous leaves.  Male katydids scrape a file of one wing over a scraper on the other to make the raspy, nearly incessant "katy-did" sound which calls the genders together for mating.  Thousands of katydids strumming at once creates a nearly deafening, but enjoyable and inspiring, din.
     Katydids are green, which camouflages them in deciduous foliage.  Even their wings look like tiny leaves to enhance their blending into their treetop niche.
     Green darners are large, migratory dragonflies that zip on four transparent wings over local ponds here in summer.  Each darner, as we see them careening around an impoundment after flying insects to eat and mates, has an olive thorax and pale-blue abdomen.
     All dragonflies start life on pond bottoms where they feed on aquatic insects, tadpoles, small fish and other water creatures.  But at maturity, they crawl up emergent plant stems, shed their larval shells and fly away.  Then we see their interesting flights and lovely colors.
     I've often heard northern mole crickets in their burrows in short-grass pastures, but never saw one.  Their scraping of one wing on the other makes a raspy sound that sounds like the hoarse, rythmic croaking of a kind of frog down a hole.  Mole crickets are well adapted to living in burrows in the ground where they are relatively safe.  They don't have large, back legs for jumping like their kin, but their front legs are like shovels for digging in soft soil, which their relatives don't have.
     Water striders are true bugs skiing on the surfaces of sluggish, smaller waterways, without breaking through the water tension.  Their back pair of legs are like thin boats helping to hold them on the surface by spreading their weight, without breaking through.  Their middle legs are also like boats, but also, like oars, that propel the striders forward to catch land insects struggling helplessly on the water's surface.  And their front legs capture their food.  Water striders are dark above and white below to be nearly invisible on the water.   
     Water boatman are also true bugs, close to half an inch long, that live in ponds.  These intriguing, little insects use their noticeably enlarged, middle pair of legs as oars to push themselves through the water to eat algae and bits of dead plant and animal materials, and to escape fish and other would-be predators in the water.  They are brownish, which camouflages them and they come to the surface occasionally to breathe air.  They can fly from pond to pond.
     These are some of my favorite insects that I look for each summer.  Readers can get out and look for intriguing insects around your homes.

A Pond in May

     I have watched a human-made, one-acre pond in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania for a few minutes at a time, many times over the years.  And, at times, interesting creatures were at that impoundment, including a wintering tundra swan, several kinds of migrant ducks, groups of wintering ring-billed gulls that stop to drink and bathe, a Cooper's hawk chasing a belted kingfisher with intents to kill and eat it, the "waaaaaah" calling of male common toads in June and July, and four species of the heron family wading in the pond to catch fish.
     But on May 23, 2016, I decided to visit that pond a few times for about an hour each time to see what kinds of life were in and around it at that time of year.  This built and manicured pond has seen many people uses, including fishing, ice skating, people feeding ducks and people walking dogs on the lawn of short grass and a few trees and shrubbery around it.  And the local fire company uses the pond to test their trucks, hoses and other equipment.  But, in spite of all that human activity and lack of cover along its shores, making it anything but a wildlife refuge, there still is a lot of life and beauty around that impoundment.
     The first wildlife I saw at that pond on May 23 were several swallows and swifts swooping swiftly over the water and lots of bluegill sunfish and large-mouthed bass in it.  This impoundment is on the edge of a town with suburbs on one side and farmland on the other.  Half a dozen swifts came out of town where they nest down the insides of chimneys to catch flying insects over the pond and scoop water from it by briefly skimming its surface, leaving a tiny wake on the water.  Meanwhile, several barn swallows and a few tree swallows came from barns and fields to do the same.  All those swifts and swallows zipped back and forth among their fellows without collision, creating an interesting show.
     Groups of bluegills and bass of all sizes hovered among clumps of algae in the clear shallows all the way around that body of water.  Some of those related fish had nests on the sandy bottom where females of each kind did or will spawn thousands of eggs that will be fertilized by the males that made those nurseries.  Each male bluegill and bass will court several females of his kind around and around over his nest and spread sperm over their eggs as they spawn them.  Then each male fish protects the eggs and small young from other fish that would eat those tidbits.
     Impressively huge carp and goldfish also live in that impoundment where they also spawn.  On warm, sunny days those scaly giants lie and swim sluggishly at the surface of the clear water where they are quite visible.  Because this is a built pond, the bluegills, bass, carp and goldfish were all introduced to it by people over the years.         
     A half-dozen purple grackles, and a few each of starlings and house sparrows patrolled the gravel-lined edges of the pond for invertebrates.  These species play the role of sandpipers along the shores of built impoundments.  A pair of mourning doves came to the water's edge to drink.
     A spotted sandpiper danced and bobbed along the pond's edge as it looked for invertebrates.  Their pumping along is a form of camouflage, making them look like debris bouncing in the wavelets on the shores of waterways and impoundments.  This spotty probably had a mate setting on a clutch of four eggs in some sheltered place near the pond.
     A few American robins and a killdeer plover trotted over the short grass around the pond in search of invertebrates.  The robins were nesting on low branches of nearby trees while the killdeer probably had a mate setting on a clutch of four eggs somewhere near the pond.
     Three broods of mallard ducks plied the waters of this impoundment.  Mallards and a small group of Canada geese are almost always on and around this pond.
     A pair each of eastern kingbirds and Baltimore orioles fluttered in a flowering tulip poplar tree, a tree they probably will nest in.  I heard the male oriole singing from that tree, which alerted me to the presence of both species when I looked for the male oriole with binoculars.  Both these species prefer open habitats, with scattered tall trees in which they hatch youngsters.
     A pair each of song sparrows and gray catbirds flitted among the sparse shrubbery along a part of the pond.  I heard and saw the male sparrow singing from the top of a bush.  Both these species of bird songsters are adaptable and sometimes nest in sparse shrubbery.
     Surprisingly to me, I saw three attractive red-eared sliders and two large snapping turtles in this pond.  The red-ears were small, green pet turtles that were eventually released by people into the pond when those turtles were no longer wanted.  Sliders, like most water turtles, bask in the warm sunlight every sunny summer morning to warm up to have the energy to hunt food and mates.  These hauled out on the gravelly water's edge to warm up.  At least one of those red-ears is a male because I saw his long front toe nails and lengthy tail that mark his gender.  Large snapping turtles are dangerous to every living creature in a pond, including baby ducks, but they are part of watery habitats.    
     I saw a few green darner dragonflies careening back and forth over this impoundment in pursuit of flying insects to eat, and mates.  As these large dragonflies zip by us, we see their olive colored thoraxes and pale-blue abdomens.  Darners this early in the year had migrated farther south last fall.  But now they are back and looking for mates to spawn with to create another generation of darners.         Dusk on May 23 was interesting, too.  Swifts and swallows were still flashing over the water after flying insects while purple grackles patrolled the pond's edges for invertebrates.  But as the twilight deepened, the swifts and swallows were conspicuous by their absence and, suddenly, a half dozen silhouetted little brown bats were swooping and dipping across the sunset in pursuit of flying insects.  Those little flying mammals were as interesting to see in the sky as the swifts and swallows were earlier.
     Even the most manicured ponds has lots of life.  All these adaptable creatures at this one provided much inspiring entertainment, over the years and that day in May, and demonstrate the resilience of life.  And they are built for what they do.  Swifts, swallows and bats are built for flying while carp are built for groveling for aquatic plants and invertebrates on the bottoms of impoundments and sluggish waterways.  Readers have only to get out and look for adaptable life in human-made habitats near your homes to be inspired by and enlightened about nature.                         

Summer Birds Along Mill Creek

     There are a few easily accessible places along a three mile stretch of the upper, narrow part of Mill Creek about a mile south of my home in New Holland, Pennsylvania that I occasionally visit over the years to experience nature.  And in May of 2016, there seemed to be an unusual abundance of bird species along that part of Mill Creek, so I made an informal study of those spots in three trips of about an hour and a half each.  Meadows, some with tall grass and lots of blooming buttercups, a 20 acre patch of deciduous woods, hedgerows and Mill Creek itself, all surrounded by cropland, make lush, green oases of nature in that farmland.  Though serving people, those habitats are also wildlife sanctuaries, drawing a variety of birds and other creatures to them.
     I spot a small variety of water birds along the upper, thin section of Mill Creek each summer, including this one.  A belted kingfisher and a great blue heron catch minnows here in summer, but I've never known them to nest here.  However, a family of green-backed herons do hatch in a tree near this stream and their parents are busy catching fish to feed them.
     Every summer I see a brood of wood ducks along Mill Creek in the small, wooded area.  And I've already spotted a couple of mallard duck families and a brood of Canada geese along the creek.
     I've already noted a pair of spotted sandpipers along a muddy shore of Mill Creek and a pair of killdeer plovers in a short-grass cow pasture.  Both these kinds of inland-nesting shorebirds will hatch young somewhere in the pasture near the creek and ingest a variety of invertebrates.  Both species rear offspring in a variety of open habitats across most of North America.
     The high-grass meadows with a few tall trees scattered here and there, harbor a variety of summer birds that I have already seen for this year.  Barn swallows, tree swallows and purple martins zip over pastures and fields after flying insects.  Barn swallows nest in barns, while martins raise young in apartment bird houses in certain barn yards and tree swallows hatch offspring in tree cavities and single bird boxes in farmland.
     And already this year, I've seen a pair or two each of summering red-winged blackbirds, eastern kingbirds, eastern bluebirds and Baltimore orioles that will nest in different niches in the meadows.  Male red-wings are real dandies with jet-black feathering and scarlet shoulder patches that are quite visible when the males raise their wings while singing to proclaim territory and attract mates.  Female red-wings anchor their nurseries to tall reed canary-grasses in pastures, and the other kinds of birds raise young in the few and scattered trees, the kingbirds on limbs, but the bluebirds in cavities. 
     I often hear male orioles singing in the treetops before I see them.  Female orioles make beautiful and deep pouches of fibers and grasses they attach to twigs on the very ends of limbs, often over waterways or roads.  No other species of bird in this area shares that specific nesting niche with the orioles.  Those pouches are spotted mostly in winter when the foliage is down.     
     A few pairs each of permanent resident northern cardinals, song sparrows, northern mockingbirds, house finches and American goldfinches, and summering gray catbirds, chipping sparrows and willow flycatchers nest in thickets of shrubbery, vines and young trees along the creek every summer.  I can hear some of these birds singing while they are in the thickets, but they are not visible until they emerge from those tangles of vegetation.  Obviously, jungles of plants are wonderful for these birds and others to raise young in.    
     Summering wood thrushes and resident red-bellied woodpeckers, downy woodpeckers and Carolina chickadees are some of the bird species that rear youngsters in the hedgerows and small woods along Mill Creek every year.  All these birds eat invertebrates and all of them, but the thrushes, nest in tree hollows; the woodpeckers chisel out their own. 
     Wood thrushes sing lovely, flute-like songs that sound like "a-o-lee" or "e-o-lay".  And like their cousins, the American robin, some wood thrushes nest in mature suburbs with their many tall trees, young trees and shrubbery.
     Every year, several kinds of birds hatch babies in various habitats along Mill Creek.  And I enjoy seeing as many of those beautiful and interesting species as I can during spring and summer.
    
        

Birds Nesting at Home

     Every summer, several kinds of adaptable and common small birds have raised young in our neighborhood in spite of noisy human activities.  Judging from the past, I assume they will nest again this summer.  During the last couple of weeks in May of 2016, I have seen 15 species of birds that probably will nest in our typically manicured suburban area of tall trees, bushes and short grass.
     Only one pair of each kind nests here because that is all each niche will support.  But there are several niches here, as in any maturing suburb in the Middle Atlantic States, therefore several types of birds, each in its own habitat, which allows those birds to live in harmony.
     Each species is handsome in its own colorful or camouflaged way.  Males of only four kinds are colorful, but their mates and both genders of most species blend into their surroundings, which helps keep them safe from cats and Cooper's hawks.  Use a field guide to eastern birds to see the color patterns on these bird species.
     All these birds daily come to a couple of bird baths we have on our lawn, and many seed-eating species also consume sunflower seeds from a nearby feeder, creating interesting shows.  Sometimes a few birds drink and bathe at once, or come and go in rapid succession, causing excitement.  One comes to know the daily habits and beauties of birds and mammals in a neighborhood by regularly watching bird baths and bird feeders.   
     Some of these neighborhood birds nest in planted trees.  A small colony of purple grackles rear offspring in a stand of a few half-grown Norway spruce trees we can see from our house.  The needles of the closely-growing limbs provide shelter for the young against weather, and crows and other predators that would eat the eggs and small young if they found them.
     Permanent resident pairs of house finches mostly rear young in the densely-needled boughs of  planted arborvitae trees, including in a neighbors'.  This species is originally from the American west, but were brought east as cage birds for sale.  But they were released when it was determined that their sale was illegal.  Male house finches sing lovely songs.
     Pairs of permanent resident blue jays and mourning doves also hatch young in half-grown coniferous trees planted on lawns, including ours.  Again the curtains of needles conceal eggs and young in their nurseries from bad weather, crows, hawks and other dangers.
     American robins and American goldfinches raise babies in well constructed cradles in young deciduous trees.  Female robins make nests of mud and fine grass while female goldfinches build beautiful nurseries of fine grass and thistle fluff, bound together and to a twig by spider webbing.
     Resident song sparrows and northern cardinals, and summering gray catbirds raise young in cradles built deep in planted shrubbery in our neighborhood, as they do in hedgerows.  Those handsome and compact nests are nearly impossible to see until winter when the foliage is off the bushes.    
     Both originally woodland species, resident Carolina chickadees and summering house wrens hatch young in bird boxes I erected in our back yard for them.  Chickadees have an advantage over wrens in that they nest first.  But wrens have an advantage over chickadees by being home-wreckers.  The wrens enter other birds' nests and break their eggs to discourage those victims and make them move away to a safer place to raise offspring.  But chickadees and house wrens are both interesting little birds and I let nature take its course, as it will anyway.
     Alien residents starlings and house sparrows, native residents Carolina wrens, and summering chimney swifts, all of which are quite adaptable, rear babies in crevices in buildings and other human-made objects in our neighborhood, as they do across much of North America.  Starlings hatch young in street lights, among other weird places.  Carolina wrens raise babies in outdoor grills and other odd, sheltering spots.  And swifts glue twig platforms down the inside of chimneys, using their saliva as the glue.
     All these species of birds in our yard, as elsewhere, have bright futures because they have adapted to human-made habitats in suburban areas.  The birds increase their numbers and we get to enjoy their beauties and intrigues on a daily basis.  Backyard birds and other creatures help make life sweet.       
      
      
    

Nesting Along Woodland Streams

     Several kinds of small birds nest in individual pairs along woodland streams in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, as elsewhere in much of North America.  They are all migrants, having come north from farther south where they spent the northern winter.  Each type of bird has its own nesting niche, which reduces competition for breeding space and invertebrate food with its feathered neighbors.
     All these nesting species, except one, are camouflaged in their summer niches, making them difficult to see until they move, which protects them from predators.  Often these little birds, tucked away in foliage, are heard before spotted.  Use a field guide to eastern North American birds to identify the following woodland species.      
     Louisiana waterthrushes and rough-winged swallows nest in woodland stream banks.    Mud-brown on top, waterthrushes select notches in the soil of the banks, usually behind exposed tree roots for added concealment.  They line their cradles with pieces of dead and fallen leaves and rootlets.  Parent waterthrushes walk and bob in shallows along the musically flowing water to catch invertebrates from under stones to feed themselves and their young in their nurseries.  Males of this species sing loud songs so potential mates can hear them over the tumbling waterways.
     The plain, gray-brown rough-winged swallows dig burrows in the soil of stream banks, or use abandoned kingfisher tunnels, to hatch young.  The swallows snare flying insects in mid-air over the water and feed many of them to their offspring.  Some pairs of rough-wings raise young in drainage holes under bridges, which to them, I suppose, is like deserted kingfisher holes in stream banks.     
     Acadian flycatchers build cup-sized nests of grass, rootlets and spider webs that sag below twigs of American beech tree limbs, many of which extend over woodland streams.  Like all flycatchers, the gray, little Acadians perch on twigs and flip out to catch flying insects that they consume on the same or another perch.  Males' songs are an explosive "peet-sa".
     Deep-yellow all over and striking, prothonotory warblers nest in abandoned woodpecker holes and other tree cavities along woodland waterways.  They ingest invertebrates they find among tree foliage in the woods.
     The plain-gray eastern phoebes are another kind of flycatcher that nest in local woods and catch flying insects over the water and in the woods, much the way Acadian flycatchers do.  Phoebes traditionally make nurseries of mud and moss on rock ledges under over-hanging boulders near little waterways in the woods.  Today, however, they also hatch young on support beams under small bridges and porch roofs near water in woodlands.  They seem to have little fear of people.  Males sing a simple, repetitive "fee-bee, fee-bee", which is companionable to people living in woodland homes where phoebes raise offspring.
     Veeries, which are a kind of brown-backed, spot-breasted woodland thrush, nest on the dead-leaf carpet of forest floors on wooded bottomlands near little waterways.  Males sing spiraling, descending, flute-like songs that are unique, and inspiring to hear.  All species of woodland thrushes run and stop, run and stop across dead-leaf carpeted, woodland floors, as their relatives, the robins, do on lawns, to catch and ingest a variety of invertebrates.
     Worm-eating warblers are olive-brown, with beige and dark stripes from beaks to necks.  These little birds sing dry trills and nest in the leaf litter of wooded slopes a short distance above woodland streams.  Like veeries, they hunt invertebrates on forest floors and create nests in the dead-leaf rugs of forest slopes.  
     By late summer, into autumn, these birds migrate south again to avoid the hardships of northern winters.  But they are intriguing little birds when spotted, or heard, along woodland streams.
     
 
    
    
    

May Yellows

     Several adaptable and common kinds of flowering plants have pretty yellow blossoms in southeastern Pennsylvania in May.  Blooming dandelions and field mustards are left-over from April.  But most plants with golden flowers in May only begin to bloom during that month, at least in noticeable abundance.  Look in a field guide to eastern wild flowers to see these plants. 
     Though too many people consider these plants to be weeds and want to eradicate them, I think they have flowers as beautiful as blooms on any plants, and for free.  And I think a lot of time and money is wasted trying to get rid of them.  I suggest we try to appreciate the beauty these plants have, wherever they are growing.  And it could well be that adaptable plants like these will be some of the few left on this planet.   
     Some of these plants are valuable as food for a variety of rodents, birds and other kinds of wildlife.  Dandelions are particularly useful to rodents and birds.  The pretty house finches, northern cardinals, indigo buntings, chipping sparrows and other kinds of seed-eating birds eat dandelion seeds on lawns and other, human-made habitats where we can enjoy the beauties of those birds.   
     A few species with yellow flowers, including yellow violets, golden ragworts and yellow wood sorrels, are native to eastern North American woodlands.  And yellow violets and yellow wood sorrels are also abundant on some short-grass lawns, adding beauty to them. 
     Golden ragworts grow close to two feet tall and are partial to moist soil and limited in where they are noticed.  Colonies of this species grows in some roadside ditches in woodlands.
     Most of the flowering plants with golden blossoms in this area are aliens from Europe.  And the most abundant of these, by far,  are buttercups.  Buttercups inhabit lawns, rural roadsides and meadows.  Some pastures are yellow with the abundance of striking buttercup blooms, creatring magnificent scenes in agricultural areas.
     Celandines are a few feet high and bushy looking.  They mostly inhabit roadsides where they are quite decorative.       
     Indian strawberries are prostrate plants on short-grass lawns.  Their small, yellow flowers peek out from between blades of grass.  And their pollinated blooms produce small red berries that resemble real strawberries, but are smaller and seedier.  But the fruits of Indian strawberries are attractive on lawns and eaten by rodents, small birds and other creatures.
     Yellow goat's-beard is an uncommon roadside species that stands over two feet tall and has a few yellow blooms.  Its name comes from the fluffy seed heads of many seeds, each one with a dandelion-like, fluff "parachute" that carries its cargo away on the wind.
     Yellow iris is an emergent plant of shallow water and has big blossoms.  Its long, upright, thin leaves resemble those of cattails.  Some female red-winged blackbirds build nurseries on iris leaves, as they do on cattail stalks.    
     The pale-yellow, dandelion-like flowers of cat's-ears, which is a kind of hawkweed, dominates and beautifies some lawns toward the end of May.  And like dandelions, this species produces seeds even amid regular grass mowing by growing blossoms on short stems. 
     Try to enjoy the beauty of these plants and the wildlife that benefit from them.  They beautify the Earth right at our doorsteps. 

Back Area Wildlife

     I had an hour and a half to kill during my dad's treatment at the health campus outside Lancaster City, Pennsylvania, so I went birding in a nearby, mostly unused place of short-grass lawns, patches of second-growth woods and a stretch of the Little Conestoga Creek.  A couple of shallow puddles sprawled across part of the lawns after recent heavy rains.  And that neglected site was surrounded by highways, expressways and buildings, making it an island of beautiful, peaceful nature and, hopefully, a good place to look for birds in spite of its position so close to human activities.
     As I parked along a road in this oasis of nature, the first birds I saw were three pairs of Canada geese wading through an inches-deep pool on a lawn.  Two pairs had four and five young respectively with them, but the third pair of Canadas were shepherding 22 goslings, of different sizes and, therefore, ages.  As Canada geese do, one adult was at the head of that long row of young geese and its mate brought up the rear of it.
     That group of 22 goslings was the biggest one of young geese I had ever seen.  Each goose only lays four to six eggs in a clutch, so that gang of geese must have been about four families of Canadas in one.  I have seen other large strings of goslings, but never one this big.  It was like a classroom of several children on a field trip, accompanied by two adults.  I don't know why or how one pair of Canada geese got so many young, but goslings feed themselves and only need to be warned of predators by adult geese, which is a minimum of maintenance.        
     Other kinds of birds were on that puddle on a lawn, including a pair of mallard ducks that seemed to be eating vegetation floating on the surface.  One spotted sandpiper and one solitary sandpiper patrolled an edge of the pool to catch invertebrates.  The spotty bounced and danced as it walked, which I think is a form of blending into the shorelines where its species gets food.  That sandpiper could nest locally, as its kind does across the Lower 48.  The solitary sandpiper was a migrant in this area as it was making its way north to Canada's forests to raise young.  Solitaries are the only sandpipers that hatch young in other birds' nurseries in trees.  All other sandpipers hatch offspring on the ground.  This solitary was refueling on invertebrates before continuing northward.
     I saw two great blue herons and a pair of rough-winged swallows along the Little Conestoga Creek.  The herons were hunched while standing picturesquely on a large tree fallen into the creek.  Those large herons were resting between fishing forays.  The rough-wings were zipping back and forth, low over the creek, while snapping up flying insects.
     Adaptable species of birds were feeding on invertebrates on the lawns.  Several each of American robins and gray catbirds repeatedly ran and stopped over the grass in search of food.  I don't think I ever saw so many catbirds in one spot before, probably because many of them were not sticking to dense cover.  A few each of purple grackles and starlings walked across the lawns to eat insects and other small critters they found among the blades and roots of the short grass.  And a handsome male northern flicker, which is a kind of woodpecker, probed here and there for ants in the soil, just below the grass roots. 
     A couple of gray squirrels and a few types of birds were in a small, harvested corn field adjacent to lawns and small clumps of trees and thickets.  The squirrels and birds, including three catbirds, one northern mockingbird and a northern cardinal were in that field at once and feeding on invertebrates, and corn kernels still on the ground.
     This whole neglected area was alive with gray squirrels, as evidenced by the ones rummaging across the lawns for food.  I suppose most of them live in nests of dead leaves they make in the rows and patches of deciduous trees, including silver and ash leafed maples, black walnuts and choke cherries, along the lawns in this natural place.  Those squirrels need to be constantly aware of the pair of red-tailed hawks that floated on high while I was there.
     Most any back area that has been neglected, though surrounded by human activities, is a good place for several kinds of wildlife to live and reproduce, as long as they stay off the roads.  All those back areas together add many more acres to wildlife habitats, some of which we can readily access.     

Unusual Nesting Places

     On May 11 of this year, I was doing errands at a shopping mall near the Little Conestoga Creek in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  As I drove through a parking lot behind a store, I saw a rough-winged swallow, carrying a bit of dead grass in its beak, zip across the lot and under a transport trailer used for storage by the store.  A few seconds later the swallow darted, empty-beaked, back to the creek.  The swallow repeated that performance several times while I watched.
     Rough-wings usually raise young in burrows they dig in stream banks, or use abandoned kingfisher tunnels in those same banks.  Some pairs of these swallows hatch offspring in drainage pipes in bridges that resemble holes in stream banks.  But a rough-winged pair attempting to rear babies on a shelf under a trailer is new to me.  And it made me think of other unusual nesting places I have seen by other small, native and adaptable bird species over the years. By nesting in odd sites, as well as in traditional ones, these birds have increased their populations.    
     Most swallow species nest in unusual situations.  Barn and cliff swallows originally raised young in the mouths of caves and on rocky cliffs.  But today they also hatch chicks in mud pellet nests they plaster on outside walls under roofs, and on support beams in barns and under bridges.      
     Tree swallows traditionally nested in deserted woodpecker holes and other tree cavities in open habitats near water, but now they also hatch babies in bird boxes erected for them and bluebirds.  But I have seen a couple pairs take their adapting even farther.  Years ago I saw a pair feeding offspring in the air intake of an inboard motor boat in Avalon, New Jersey.  The boat had not gone out for several weeks according to a dock attendant, and the tree swallows used the sheltering hole in the boat as a nursery.
     I've also seen a pair of tree swallows use the opening for newspaper deliveries to raise chicks.  It was situated under a mail box.  Maybe the paper went into the mail box for awhile.
     Purple martins, which are another kind of swallow, nested colonially in dead trees riddled with woodpecker holes and other hollows.  Today most martins raise young in colonial style nesting boxes erected in farmland.  But one time when I was pumping gas at a service station in Virginia, I saw a few martins swooping around the pumps.  Curious, I watched what they were doing and discovered a couple of pairs had nests in the sign under a large roof.  One pair had a nursery at the bottom of the U while another pair was feeding chicks at the bottom of the first O in the SUNOCO  sign above the pumps.    
     Chimney swifts originally glued twig cradles down the inside of hollow, broken-off trees, using their saliva as the glue.  Today most swifts nest down the inside of chimneys, which to the swifts must look like hollow trees.  Swifts must be more numerous today than ever in their life history.
     Eastern phoebes, which is a kind of flycatcher, traditionally nest on rock ledges under protective, overhanging boulders near water in woodlands.  And today they also raise young on support beams and the tops of ceiling lights under porch and pavilion roofs, on beams under little bridges and spouting under roofs, to name a few spots near water in the woods.
     House finches are originally pretty, little birds of the American west.  They were brought east as cage birds, but released when pet store owners realized that selling house finches was illegal.  Today house finches hatch youngsters in a variety of situations, including on top of porch lights, supports under awnings, ornaments on outside walls, under eaves and on beams in corners under porch, pavilion and deck ceilings.
     Carolina wrens are also notorious for raising offspring in unusual places.  Traditionally this species hatched youngsters in brush piles, rock piles and tangles of vines in bottomland woods.  But today they also build cradles in sheds with doors hanging open, mail boxes, deserted flower pots, boots, hats, pants pockets, buckets, outdoor grills, leaf blowers, power mowers and other protective objects they can access.  Their nurseries of twigs, grasses, moss and other materials are bulky and domed over the top, but with a side tunnel for entry.
     All these small, native bird species have increased populations because of their adapting to unusual nesting places.  And we people can enjoy their beauties and marvel at their adapting to human-made habitats and materials to raise young in.                    
    

May and Jack in the Woods

     During the third week in April this year, I saw conspicuous colonies of May apple leaves in most Lancaster County, Pennsylvania woodlands.  Each leaf was shaped like an umbrella, making me think of mysterious gatherings of elves or gnomes under umbrellas in the woods.  And when I looked closely at groups of May apple plants, I also saw individual Jack-in-the-pulpit plants near some of those May apple clumps.  Both these plants develop in eastern deciduous woodlands in April and bloom early in May.  And both are poisonous to eat.
     Many stands of May apples are near patches of skunk cabbage, spring beauties, trout lilies and other kinds of native woodland wildflowers in wooded bottomlands.  All these plants growing together make woodland floors beautiful and magical.  
     May apples form lovely and intriguing colonies on woodland floors because one root system sends up several shoots to capture sunlight and produce seeds.  Early in April, each shoot is a thin shaft poking through the soil and dead-leaf carpets on forest floors.  The shaft soon splits open above ground and one or two leaves grow out of it and open like umbrellas.  Younger plants have one leaf while older ones have two.  And each leaf stands twelve to eighteen inches high.  A flower bud forms at the crotch of the two leaf stems on older plants and soon opens as a white flower under the leaves.  One green fruit with several seeds develops from the blossom and by fall it is table-tennis-sized and pale yellow.  The seeds disperse as the fruit decays.         
     Jack-in-the-pulpits are also intriguing on woodland floors.  Each unique plant has three leaves on the top of each of two stems that can be up to three feet tall.  One flower stem grows between the leaf stems with one bloom on top under the leaves.  Jack the preacher is the spadix standing dark and erect in his two-inch-tall pulpit with a graceful, pointed canopy up the back and over the pulpit.  Seemingly sculptured, the pulpits are light-green, many of which have dark brown stripes.
     Each spadix is covered with tiny blossoms of both genders.  A cluster of green berries replaces the spadix in summer, but becomes red by autumn, adding more color to woodland floors.
     May apples and Jack-in-the-pulpits are unique and interesting plants on the leaf-strewn floors of eastern deciduous forests and small woodlots alike.  With imagination, the one species shelters little people and the other is a preacher.  And they both make woodland floors greener and more intriguing to experience.   

Birds at Speedwell Lake

     For an hour on May 3, 2016, I visited Speedwell Forge lake, which is owned by the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission.  That human-made reservoir had been drained to repair damage to its dam, but is now partly filled again.  Currently, it has lots of shallow water and large mud flats, bordered by deciduous woods and fields. 
     Many slim and attractive tree swallows and barn swallows together dominated the air over the impoundment as they pursued flying insects to eat.  Shallow water, mud flats and woods generate a lot of flying insects, many of which become food for the swallows.  Those swallows careened over the lake singly and in little groups, twisting and turning among their fellows without collision, creating quite an entertaining show.  
     At least five kinds of sandpipers, including lesser and greater yellowlegs and least, solitary and spotted sandpipers, altogether numbering more than two dozen individuals, roamed the flats and shallow water in their search for aquatic invertebrates to eat.  All these sandpiper species are either light-gray, dark-gray or brown, which camouflages them on the muddy flats. 
     Yellowlegs have long, yellow legs that allow them to wade into deeper water for food.  Those lengthy legs reduce competition with their short-legged relatives that are limited to the flats and inch-deep water to get invertebrates. 
     Only spotted sandpipers nest locally along waterways and impoundments, as they do across much of the United States.  The other species continue their migrations farther north.
     Solitary sandpipers are unique in their family of birds.  They are the only sandpiper species that hatches young in other birds' nurseries in trees in Canada's forests.  All other kinds of sandpipers hatch offspring on the ground.   
     Along with many swallows resting between feeding forays, several red-winged blackbirds perched on last year's cattails, and young crack willows standing in shallow water.  Hundreds of willows grew when the lake was drained, but now they might drown in the rising water.  The red-wings will attempt to nest on the cattails above the current water level.  But if the water level rises further, red-wing nurseries and young might be flooded, too.
     I saw a solitary drake wood duck and a family of mallard ducks, indicating those waterfowl species hatch young by this impoundment, as they do along most waters in this area.  The woody male was alone because his mate is setting on a clutch of about a dozen eggs in a tree hollow somewhere in the bordering woodland.  The mallard hen hatched her ducklings in a grass-lined nest on the ground near this reservoir's shore. 
     I saw several other kinds of water birds on or above the lake on May third.  Two female buffleheads and three American coots repeatedly dove under water from the surface to eat algae and other types of water vegetation, and invertebrates.  A pied-billed grebe dove under water to catch small fish.  And, at different times during the hour I visited Speedwell Lake, I saw an immature bald eagle, an osprey and a great blue heron fly over that reservoir.  Those large birds might have been on migration and were checking the lake for fish to catch and consume. 
     There was never a dull moment while I visited Speedwell Lake.  And I figured I saw most of what I could have spotted at that impoundment in the time I was there early in May.  I went home satisfied with my little trip to Speedwell Forge Lake. 

Late-Spring Woods

     For a few hours on May third of this year, I visited a wooded valley in forested hills in northern Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  The beginning of May is a magical time in the woods of this area as spring gives way to the green look and the warm, humid feel of summer.  The dead-leaf-carpeted woodland floor was green with the large leaves of innumerable skunk cabbage plants in the lower, damper places and the foliage of May apples, wild gingers and garlic mustard on the rest of the woods floor.  Clumps of May apple leaves looked like the umbrellas of groups of elves standing on forest floors. 
     The shrub layer of those bottomland woods was green with the foliage of spice bushes, and of multiflora rose bushes in little clearings in the woodlands.  And the forest canopy was starting to get green as the leaves grew from using the sugary sap the trees made last summer and stored in their root systems through winter. 
     I saw several vegetative beauties in this lush, green wooded valley.  Red maple trees were decorated with red seeds that will soon break loose from their twig moorings and spin away on the wind.  Several large sycamore trees with their mottled bark lined the creek flowing through this wooded valley.  I noted big, tulip trees, white oaks, red oaks, American beeches with their smooth bark, and sugar maples in this woodland.  The unfurling leaves of cinnamon ferns looked like green fiddleheads.  Fallen logs and boulders were carpeted with moss after a few days of showers.  Dogwood trees had white flowers.  May apples, rue anemones and garlic mustard also had white blossoms on the forest floor.  And patches of golden ragwort plants had golden blooms on eighteen inch stems while blue violet flowers peeped from under fallen leaves and forest floor plants.       
     There was a mix of small birds in this lush, green valley.  I saw and heard permanent resident tufted titmice, Carolina chickadees and red-bellied woodpeckers.  Beautiful white-throated sparrows and white-crowned sparrows were still in thickets where they wintered, but were getting ready to migrate north and west from here to nest.  And I heard and/or saw several gray catbirds, and at least one each of blue-gray gnatcatcher, wood thrush, veery, which is a kind of thrush, Baltimore oriole, Louisiana waterthrush and swamp sparrow, all indicators of the climax of spring in this area.  All these charming, little birds probably will nest in this wooded valley, the waterthrush and swamp sparrow along the creek. 
     I also saw two female rose-breasted grosbeaks snapping off twigs, presumably to make nests in the trees in this wooded valley.  The one grosbeak followed the other one through the bushes as she worked to get twigs as if the follower was a nest-building apprentice.  No doubt these grosbeaks will nest in this lovely, wooded valley. 
     There was a variety of several warblers in the tree tops, apparently eating small insects.  But they were hard to identify against the glare of the sky, and because they are hardly ever still for long.  I knew they were warblers by their size and actions.  And I was able to identify a few yellow-rumped warblers, a common yellow-throat, a yellow warbler and a blackburnian warbler.  The yellow-throat and yellow warblers probably will raise young in the thickets of this wooded valley, but the others will migrate north to evergreen forests in Canada.      
     That wooded valley on May third was a mix of green leaves, beautiful flowers and interesting woodland birds, as it is every year at this time.  It is a lovely paradise of peaceful nature on the edge of an overly developed county. 

Birds on Bare Fields

     One morning late in April of this year I was driving through Lancaster County, Pennsylvania cropland and spotted about 20 barn swallows cruising fast and low over a bare ground field to catch flying insects and several American robins running and stopping, running and stopping as they searched for earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates in the soil.  I have seen birds on bare fields before over the years, but not so many swallows and robins at once in one field.  I stopped to see what other species of birds were on that bare ground field.  I saw several starlings and a few purple grackles.  My nature snooping appetite was then whetted to see what other species of birds were on fields of bare soil that morning.
     Much of Lancaster County's soil is devoted to growing various crops, so there are thousands of acres of plowed and disced fields in April into May.  Those fields are prepared to sow field corn, cigar tobacco and soybeans.  And while devoid of plant life, they attract several kinds of birds that ingest invertebrates, or seeds and tiny bits of stone to help grind the seeds in the birds' stomachs.
     That morning near the end of April, I saw loose flocks of robins, starlings, purple grackles, brown-headed cowbirds, red-winged blackbirds, American crows, house sparrows, purple martins,rock pigeons and mourning doves on several "barren" fields in Lancaster County farmland.  All these adaptable and common birds nest in local agricultural areas, some of them, such as robins, crows, grackles and doves in trees, and others, including starlings, house sparrows and pigeons, all originally from Europe, in sheltering places in buildings.  All these birds eat invertebrates, except the seed-eating pigeons and doves.
     Starlings, house sparrows, pigeons and some of the robins and doves are permanent residents in this county, but the grackles, red-wings and crows migrate into this area early in spring.  That same day late in April, I also saw many migrant American pipits, some horned larks, several killdeer plovers, and one small group of black-bellied plovers.  Pipits and black-bellies pass through here on their way north to the Arctic tundra to nest, the pipits in big flocks and the plovers in small ones.
      Some of the larks and killdeer migrate farther north to nest.  But other individuals of their respective tribes raise young here on the bare ground of Lancaster County farmland, and throughout much of the Lower 48 States.
     Pipits, larks, black-bellies and killdeer are pre-adapted to open, sparsely-vegetated land, such as in parts of the tundra in the case of the pipits, larks and black-bellies, and bare-ground fields in the Lower 48 in regard to the larks and killdeer.  The larks dig a little teacup-sized hole in the soil for their eggs, but the killdeer lay their four spotted eggs per clutch right on top of the bare ground.  Some lark and killdeer nests in farmland are destroyed by cultivating machinery, but those birds often try again to nest.
      Pipits, larks, the two kinds of plovers, and robins, doves and house sparrows, being mostly brown on top, are camouflaged on bare soil, making them hard to see and safer from predators.  We seldom spot these birds on denuded land until they fly or are noted by binoculars.
     Barn swallows and purple martins arrive here in April and cruise swiftly over all fields to snap up flying insects.  They make interesting, entertaining shows of themselves.
     When walking or driving in farmland, watch for birds among the fields, including bare-soil ones.  It's amazing how adaptable some birds are in getting food and raising offspring.