Spring has arrived in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania and these days, the end of March, there are indications of it everywhere. On March 27 of this year, I drove through Lancaster County farmland around New Holland to see signs of that vernal season. I stopped at a built marsh and saw a few pairs each of the omnipresent mallard ducks and Canada geese, with at least one goose setting on a clutch of eggs. A loose grouping of over two dozen fish crows were perched in a few large sycamore trees. Having arrived there to raise young, the crows were calling excitedly the whole 20 minutes I was in that marsh. And a half dozen handsome, recently arrived tree swallows were entertaining to watch swooping and banking through the air over the wetland to catch flying insects. Four bluebird/tree swallow nesting boxes, freshly mounted on stakes in the marsh, is what helped attract the swallows. Probably four pairs of tree swallows will attempt to raise young in those boxes.
Driving by a shallow pool of water that was created for ice skating in a cow pasture in winter, I was pleasantly surprised to see three Bonaparte's gulls swimming on the water with a few mallards. Those dainty, petite gulls were busily snapping up gnats and other kinds of insects from the surface of the water. All three of these migrant gulls were still in their winter plumage of white tails and underparts, light-gray wings and backs, and a black patch behind each eye. Most bonnies migrate along rivers, but a few move inland, sometimes stopping at impoundments to rest and get food.
While watching the Bonaparte's, I saw two migrant pectoral sandpipers walking along the edge of the water in search of invertebrates in the mud and shallow water. They had wintered in South America and were going to the Arctic tundra to nest, but occasionally they must stop here and there to rest and feed. The pectorals and the Bonnies together made an interesting sight in local cropland.
Next I stopped at a farm pond, about a mile outside of New Holland, where nine ring-necked ducks, five of them drakes, were mingled with a few each of mallards and Canada geese. Usually ducks of larger waters, the ring-necks were intriguing to watch diving to the bottom of the pond to pull up water plants with their beaks. Then they would surface to swallow that food and dive for more. Soon the ring-necks will arrive on the American and Canadian prairie pothole ponds to raise ducklings.
At another farm pond on the edge of New Holland, I saw about 25 pretty, little American wigeon ducks mixing with mallards and Canadas on the water and feeding on short grass on the impoundment's banks. The wigeon, too,will soon go to mid-western prairie ponds to hatch young.
Moving on, I saw at least three pairs of green-winged teal on a slow section of Mill Creek. They, too, will eventually migrate farther north and west to nest. I also noted a couple of drake wood ducks swimming alone on different sections of that same part of Mill Creek. Their solitary existence told me that their mates were either laying eggs in nearby tree hollows or incubating clutches of eggs. And I observed an osprey along that same stretch of Mill Creek. It was migrating, but stopped at the creek to search for fish to eat.
While driving from place to place in Lancaster County cropland around New Holland, I noticed a sudden large increase in the number of American kestrels I was seeing on roadside wires. I suppose these attractive falcons are here from farther south and intend to nest locally. But I wondered what they could be eating in the manicured and harvested fields. There are many horned larks, and other kinds of small birds, in the fields, and field mice in roadside banks. And, in spring, I have seen kestrels eating earthworms that were turned up by plows. Kestrels seem to fare alright until their are lots of larger insects in the fields and along rural roads to feed on and give to their young in tree cavities and nesting boxes.
And while driving along, I saw a few pairs of beautiful eastern bluebirds investigating small tree hollows and bluebird boxes erected for them. They will settle down to rearing youngsters locally, if they can find unused nesting sites, but tree swallows and house sparrows give them competition.
And most everywhere I went in farmland that day, I saw loose groups of American robins and purple grackles, with a few red-winged blackbirds mixed in with some of the grackle flocks. One field full of grackles and robins even had three migrant eastern meadowlarks among the other bird species, all of them feeding on invertebrates and grain.
Early in March, generally, floods of grackles and red-wings pour into Lancaster County from farther south and inundate some fields and lawns to eat invertebrates and grain. And not long after, loose robin groups are on those same human-made habitats.
By late March, many grackles and robins are still feeding in the fields, but also starting to investigate suburban lawn nesting sites, the grackles mostly in planted, half-grown conifers with dense limbs and sheltering needles, and the robins in planted deciduous shrubs and young trees for the most part. Grackles usually form breeding colonies among the evergreens, but solitary pairs of robins raise offspring. And both species stalk across nearby lawns and fields to pick up invertebrates to feed their youngsters. They might compete with each other for food, but not for nesting places. And those different nesting habitats can spread the two species, reducing rivalry for food.
I saw several lovely and interesting examples of spring's arrival to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland on March 27 of this year, but I know there was much I didn't see that day. Every environment, every season has much beauty and joy to offer to those people who look for them, wherever they happen to be. Nature is unending and truly wonderful.
Thursday, March 30, 2017
Saturday, March 25, 2017
Golden Eagles in Eastern North America
It's always a thrill to see a wild, stately golden eagle any place it may be at any time. I have seen several of those majestic, diurnal raptors in southeastern Pennsylvania over the years, in November when they are migrating south for the winter and here and there in deciduous forests near farmland in winter. They are big and truly magnificent in powerful, graceful flight, pumping and soaring along with seemingly little effort.
I recently saw on line that many adult golden eagles migrate north by the hundreds along the Appalachian Mountains of Central Pennsylvania during March. They are one of the earliest of raptor migrants during the vernal season. Younger birds that probably aren't paired to raise young go north later. And goldens migrate south late in fall, peaking during November, into December.
I've recently read that up to 5,000 golden eagles currently live in eastern North America, which is more than I thought are here. They nest mostly in the mixed coniferous/deciduous forests in eastern Canada and winter in deciduous woods among agricultural areas in every state east of the Mississippi River. But they particularly winter along the Central Appalachian forests, especially in the wooded mountains of Virginia and West Virginia.
In winter, golden eagles scavenge dead white-tailed deer, farm animals and other creatures in the wooded hills and farmland valleys of eastern North America, including in southeastern Pennsylvania. And because they are large and powerful, goldens also hunt and kill wild turkeys, gray squirrels, snowshoe hares, cottontail rabbits, two species of foxes and other critters of comparable sizes.
Young golden eagles fledge in July when prey is abundant. They learn to fly and hunt during the rest of summer, into autumn, building skills and strength to last them a lifetime of hunting for prey, migrations and reproduction.
The plumage of each golden eagle is dark brown all over with a golden sheen of feathers on the back of the neck, giving this species its common name. Like all hawk, eagle and owl species, female goldens are larger than their mates. Adult female goldens average 12 pounds, while adult males average 8 pounds. Like all raptors, golden eagles have long, sharp talons powered by strong feet and legs. And they have big, powerful beaks, with the top mandible hooked down for tearing up the animals they kill or scavenge into bite-sized pieces.
Be on Appalachian Mountain tops to experience the magnificent golden eagles migrating north to their nesting territories during March and into April. But they could be anywhere when pushing north. Watch for these majestic raptors soaring along the southwest-running Appalachians during northwest winds when migrating south in November. And look for them in their wintering areas of wooded mountains and cropland valleys from December through February. They are always stately in appearance no matter where they are or what they are doing.
I recently saw on line that many adult golden eagles migrate north by the hundreds along the Appalachian Mountains of Central Pennsylvania during March. They are one of the earliest of raptor migrants during the vernal season. Younger birds that probably aren't paired to raise young go north later. And goldens migrate south late in fall, peaking during November, into December.
I've recently read that up to 5,000 golden eagles currently live in eastern North America, which is more than I thought are here. They nest mostly in the mixed coniferous/deciduous forests in eastern Canada and winter in deciduous woods among agricultural areas in every state east of the Mississippi River. But they particularly winter along the Central Appalachian forests, especially in the wooded mountains of Virginia and West Virginia.
In winter, golden eagles scavenge dead white-tailed deer, farm animals and other creatures in the wooded hills and farmland valleys of eastern North America, including in southeastern Pennsylvania. And because they are large and powerful, goldens also hunt and kill wild turkeys, gray squirrels, snowshoe hares, cottontail rabbits, two species of foxes and other critters of comparable sizes.
Young golden eagles fledge in July when prey is abundant. They learn to fly and hunt during the rest of summer, into autumn, building skills and strength to last them a lifetime of hunting for prey, migrations and reproduction.
The plumage of each golden eagle is dark brown all over with a golden sheen of feathers on the back of the neck, giving this species its common name. Like all hawk, eagle and owl species, female goldens are larger than their mates. Adult female goldens average 12 pounds, while adult males average 8 pounds. Like all raptors, golden eagles have long, sharp talons powered by strong feet and legs. And they have big, powerful beaks, with the top mandible hooked down for tearing up the animals they kill or scavenge into bite-sized pieces.
Be on Appalachian Mountain tops to experience the magnificent golden eagles migrating north to their nesting territories during March and into April. But they could be anywhere when pushing north. Watch for these majestic raptors soaring along the southwest-running Appalachians during northwest winds when migrating south in November. And look for them in their wintering areas of wooded mountains and cropland valleys from December through February. They are always stately in appearance no matter where they are or what they are doing.
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
Spring Near Home
On March 20, a few days ago, I drove around the New Holland, Pennsylvania area on errands and visited a few small nature spots in local farmland along the way. I stopped at a quarter-acre farm pond where I saw a pair of mallard ducks that probably have a clutch of eggs near that little impoundment, and a group of 19 migrant ring-necked ducks, 14 of which were drakes. I was thrilled to see so many ring-necks, including the attractive males, on a small, pretty pond so close to home. And those ring-necks were entertaining and inspiring to watch taking turns diving under water, time after time, to pull aquatic vegetation from the bottom of the pond and suddenly popping above the water line to consume the plants they dredged up with their shovel-like beaks.
Ring-necks are increasingly wintering in ever larger numbers in eastern North America and adapting to inland, human-made impoundments, large and small. And, although they are a species of bay ducks, with relatives that winter on estuaries and other large bodies of brackish water, ring-necks have always favored fresh water and are naturals on inland, freshwater lakes and ponds.
As I drove through cropland that warm, sunny day, I saw two pairs of eastern bluebirds, one perched on the twigs of trees and the other on fence railings farther down the road. Both pairs of those beautiful birds were watching for invertebrates in the grass and other vegetation below their perches. And when prey was spotted, they would drop to the plants, grab the invertebrates in their bills and fly up to a roost to eat their victims. Male bluebirds exhibited a striking flash of beautiful blue when they fluttered after prey.
Bluebirds will soon settle down to finding a nesting territory with a tree cavity or bird box in it. Then they will attempt to raise up to three broods during spring and summer. But bluebirds have problems with tree swallows and house sparrows that want to use cavities themselves, house wrens that destroy other birds' eggs and black rat snakes that crawl into a cavity and eat the eggs of young in the nest.
Continuing on my errands, I stopped at a half-acre farm pond where I was thrilled to see 28 migrant American wigeon ducks together in their own gathering among several mallard ducks. I never saw so many wigeon on a small pond so close to home. The adaptable wigeon, too, are wintering in ever larger numbers in eastern North America.
Most of the wigeon on that lovely, half-acre pond were paired and all of them were handsome. And it was interesting to watch them feed on two types of vegetation in and around that impoundment. Some of them shoveled up water plants lying on the surface of the shallows, while others grazed on the short grass on the lawn around the pond, much as geese and swans do.
Reflecting on the migrating ring-necked ducks and American wigeons, I was thrilled and inspired to see so many of each kind on small farm ponds. And since these attractive ducks were on the only two ponds I visited, I have to imagine they are also on many other impoundments. Perhaps, as their populations grow, they adapted to using impoundments they hadn't before. Maybe their population pressures are making them change their habits, including having migration stopovers close to the works of people.
At home in our neighborhood suburb on the morning of March 21, I was treated to several expressions of spring's arrival. The high temperature that day was 58 degrees and daylight each succeeding day continues to get longer, stirring all life to reproductive activities. Three mourning doves were cooing in our yard, two of them from each of two upstairs bedroom air conditioners where they have nested in past years. A northern cardinal was singing lustfully from a tree top while two male American robins were fighting over nesting territories. Among the bushes on our lawn, I saw a pair of tufted titmice that did everything together; certainly a mated pair. And I saw a gray squirrel seemingly at play and several newly arrived purple grackles that will soon set up a nesting colony in a grove of spruce trees in our neighborhood, as they've done in the past. Meanwhile, crocuses and daffodils continue to bloom and the fuzzies on our pussy willow shrubs are turning yellow with pollen.
These are a few of the signs of spring I enjoyed in the last few days in local farmland and suburbs. And, as that vernal season progresses, we will experience other natural events of spring, each in its own time. Readers can do the same.
Ring-necks are increasingly wintering in ever larger numbers in eastern North America and adapting to inland, human-made impoundments, large and small. And, although they are a species of bay ducks, with relatives that winter on estuaries and other large bodies of brackish water, ring-necks have always favored fresh water and are naturals on inland, freshwater lakes and ponds.
As I drove through cropland that warm, sunny day, I saw two pairs of eastern bluebirds, one perched on the twigs of trees and the other on fence railings farther down the road. Both pairs of those beautiful birds were watching for invertebrates in the grass and other vegetation below their perches. And when prey was spotted, they would drop to the plants, grab the invertebrates in their bills and fly up to a roost to eat their victims. Male bluebirds exhibited a striking flash of beautiful blue when they fluttered after prey.
Bluebirds will soon settle down to finding a nesting territory with a tree cavity or bird box in it. Then they will attempt to raise up to three broods during spring and summer. But bluebirds have problems with tree swallows and house sparrows that want to use cavities themselves, house wrens that destroy other birds' eggs and black rat snakes that crawl into a cavity and eat the eggs of young in the nest.
Continuing on my errands, I stopped at a half-acre farm pond where I was thrilled to see 28 migrant American wigeon ducks together in their own gathering among several mallard ducks. I never saw so many wigeon on a small pond so close to home. The adaptable wigeon, too, are wintering in ever larger numbers in eastern North America.
Most of the wigeon on that lovely, half-acre pond were paired and all of them were handsome. And it was interesting to watch them feed on two types of vegetation in and around that impoundment. Some of them shoveled up water plants lying on the surface of the shallows, while others grazed on the short grass on the lawn around the pond, much as geese and swans do.
Reflecting on the migrating ring-necked ducks and American wigeons, I was thrilled and inspired to see so many of each kind on small farm ponds. And since these attractive ducks were on the only two ponds I visited, I have to imagine they are also on many other impoundments. Perhaps, as their populations grow, they adapted to using impoundments they hadn't before. Maybe their population pressures are making them change their habits, including having migration stopovers close to the works of people.
At home in our neighborhood suburb on the morning of March 21, I was treated to several expressions of spring's arrival. The high temperature that day was 58 degrees and daylight each succeeding day continues to get longer, stirring all life to reproductive activities. Three mourning doves were cooing in our yard, two of them from each of two upstairs bedroom air conditioners where they have nested in past years. A northern cardinal was singing lustfully from a tree top while two male American robins were fighting over nesting territories. Among the bushes on our lawn, I saw a pair of tufted titmice that did everything together; certainly a mated pair. And I saw a gray squirrel seemingly at play and several newly arrived purple grackles that will soon set up a nesting colony in a grove of spruce trees in our neighborhood, as they've done in the past. Meanwhile, crocuses and daffodils continue to bloom and the fuzzies on our pussy willow shrubs are turning yellow with pollen.
These are a few of the signs of spring I enjoyed in the last few days in local farmland and suburbs. And, as that vernal season progresses, we will experience other natural events of spring, each in its own time. Readers can do the same.
Sunday, March 19, 2017
Birds Coping With Snow
For a couple of hours in the sunny, warm afternoon of March 17, 2017, I took a drive in the snow-covered farmland around New Holland, Pennsylvania to see how birds were coping with over a foot of snow that fell a few days before. Cropland around New Holland today is harvested to the ground in autumn and has few trees and even less hedgerows that would shelter wildlife. Fields, and meadows with small waterways in them, are bleak habitats for wildlife in winter.
On my drive through the countryside I saw some of the bird life there was seemingly unaffected by the heavy snow. I saw mallard ducks and Canada geese in the slow-moving parts of streams where they shovel up water plants to eat, and a great blue heron stalking fish in one of them. Seed and invertebrate-eating song sparrows were abundant in thin thickets along pasture waterways as they always are in winter. And I saw eight Wilson's snipe in the shallows along the edges of brooks and streams in meadows where they are all winter. There they poke their long beaks in mud under running water to pull out aquatic invertebrates.
But I also noticed that some species of birds changed their daily habits for the time deep snow is on the ground. They have to get food in niches different than what they are used to. Adaptable and wintering, or migrating, horned larks, American robins and American crows, and migrating purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds, were on plowed and dry country roads, I guess looking for tidbits blown out there by the wind. These kinds of birds also frequented roadside shoulders where snow plows ripped up soil, exposing it and patches of vegetation that might have invertebrates and seeds in them. Plowed roadways and roadsides get larger as the snow melts and trickles away, offering more and more food for these birds and other kinds. These bird species, and other types, also eat berries, and go to bird feeders to consume grain.
Road apples, also known as horse droppings, are abundant on some rural roads used by horses and buggies, or wagons. Road apples are loaded with corn that was chewed to bits by the horses, but not completely digested, offering nutrition to congregations of horned larks, house sparrows, crows, pigeons, doves and other kinds of farmland birds.
Although I didn't see any manure strips in the fields the day of my trip in farmland, those lines of farmland animals' droppings spread over snow-covered fields by manure spreaders to enrich the soil are also loaded with bits of chewed, undigested corn. The birds listed at road apples, plus mallard ducks, Canada geese and migrating tundra swans and snow geese all root out corn from the manure. Those manure strips are blessings to many kinds of field birds after a heavy snowfall buries seeds and grain that lay on the ground after the fall harvests.
Snowmobiles racing across snow-covered fields tear up the snow and, in places, the ground beneath, exposing invertebrates and seeds to field birds. Flocks of horned larks, snow buntings during some winters, crows, rock pigeons, mourning doves, and individual or paired killdeer plovers search for that food in snowmobile tracks in the soil of fields.
Incidentally, although I barely saw any killdeer all winter before this deep snow, they were almost everywhere as individuals and pairs in farmland around New Holland the day of my trip. They were mostly along country roads, and on the edges of small, running waterways where they, snipe and song sparrows watched for invertebrates to eat. As my car approached each of them on the rural roads, the killdeer daintily lifted up and lightly drifted away, on swept-back wings, low over snow-covered fields.
Wind pushing snow across fields and pastures bares the ground in some places and piles it in other spots. Those exposed soil areas get larger as rain falls and washes away snow and the heat of the sun melts it. And as the bare ground places get ever bigger, the birds spread out again to look for food.
At this time of year, with the sun "high" and hot in the sky, the snow is quickly melting away. But it was interesting to see how some species of farmland birds coped with deep snow on local fields and meadows for a few days. I think they do quite well.
On my drive through the countryside I saw some of the bird life there was seemingly unaffected by the heavy snow. I saw mallard ducks and Canada geese in the slow-moving parts of streams where they shovel up water plants to eat, and a great blue heron stalking fish in one of them. Seed and invertebrate-eating song sparrows were abundant in thin thickets along pasture waterways as they always are in winter. And I saw eight Wilson's snipe in the shallows along the edges of brooks and streams in meadows where they are all winter. There they poke their long beaks in mud under running water to pull out aquatic invertebrates.
But I also noticed that some species of birds changed their daily habits for the time deep snow is on the ground. They have to get food in niches different than what they are used to. Adaptable and wintering, or migrating, horned larks, American robins and American crows, and migrating purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds, were on plowed and dry country roads, I guess looking for tidbits blown out there by the wind. These kinds of birds also frequented roadside shoulders where snow plows ripped up soil, exposing it and patches of vegetation that might have invertebrates and seeds in them. Plowed roadways and roadsides get larger as the snow melts and trickles away, offering more and more food for these birds and other kinds. These bird species, and other types, also eat berries, and go to bird feeders to consume grain.
Road apples, also known as horse droppings, are abundant on some rural roads used by horses and buggies, or wagons. Road apples are loaded with corn that was chewed to bits by the horses, but not completely digested, offering nutrition to congregations of horned larks, house sparrows, crows, pigeons, doves and other kinds of farmland birds.
Although I didn't see any manure strips in the fields the day of my trip in farmland, those lines of farmland animals' droppings spread over snow-covered fields by manure spreaders to enrich the soil are also loaded with bits of chewed, undigested corn. The birds listed at road apples, plus mallard ducks, Canada geese and migrating tundra swans and snow geese all root out corn from the manure. Those manure strips are blessings to many kinds of field birds after a heavy snowfall buries seeds and grain that lay on the ground after the fall harvests.
Snowmobiles racing across snow-covered fields tear up the snow and, in places, the ground beneath, exposing invertebrates and seeds to field birds. Flocks of horned larks, snow buntings during some winters, crows, rock pigeons, mourning doves, and individual or paired killdeer plovers search for that food in snowmobile tracks in the soil of fields.
Incidentally, although I barely saw any killdeer all winter before this deep snow, they were almost everywhere as individuals and pairs in farmland around New Holland the day of my trip. They were mostly along country roads, and on the edges of small, running waterways where they, snipe and song sparrows watched for invertebrates to eat. As my car approached each of them on the rural roads, the killdeer daintily lifted up and lightly drifted away, on swept-back wings, low over snow-covered fields.
Wind pushing snow across fields and pastures bares the ground in some places and piles it in other spots. Those exposed soil areas get larger as rain falls and washes away snow and the heat of the sun melts it. And as the bare ground places get ever bigger, the birds spread out again to look for food.
At this time of year, with the sun "high" and hot in the sky, the snow is quickly melting away. But it was interesting to see how some species of farmland birds coped with deep snow on local fields and meadows for a few days. I think they do quite well.
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Stately Great Blue Herons
In recent years, stately great blue herons have several nesting rookeries in wooded swamps, near bodies of water where they readily catch fish and other prey, scattered throughout the Middle Atlantic States where they are common, year-round residents. This large species of herons creates colonies of bulky, stick nurseries in the tops of several neighboring deciduous trees, often two or three nests in a tree, in that type of habitat. Great blues create their nesting colonies where they do because of handy food sources to quickly shuttle food to their young. These herons begin their breeding season about the middle of March and use the same stick, treetop cradles year after year.
It's interesting and inspiring to see these majestic herons flying ponderously into their nesting rookeries and to their individual nurseries with sticks and twigs in their beaks and weave those materials into the rims of their nests. Each female great blue lays about four eggs in her cradle and both members of each pair take turns incubating the eggs. Setting birds are hard to see in the nest because they are gray like the sticks and hunkered down in the cradle.
Great blue herons don't always have their rookeries to themselves, however. A pair or two of great horned owls, red-tailed hawks or bald eagles, all of which begin nesting in January, usurp a heron nursery or two, which were built in previous years, in some heron rookeries. A few of the eagles will even prey on some of the herons when they return to their nurseries in March.
Standing over four feet tall and being long-legged and long-necked, great blues are always intriguing to experience. They are magnificent birds in the way they walk, stalk prey in the water and fly. Being large, they are often easy to spot fishing in many larger, more open waterways and impoundments, but not always because of their gray, camouflaging plumage.
Great blue herons are adaptable and real survivors wherever there are waterways and impoundments. They have a varied diet of aquatic creatures and land-based ones. They carefully stalk on their long legs and catch fish, large and small, frogs, tadpoles, water insects and other aquatic critters by throwing out their lengthy necks and beaks.
Great blues are also adept at snaring goldfish and koi from backyard goldfish/koi ponds, much to the horror of many owners. One early March about five years ago, we were victims of a great blue catching all but one of our goldfish. I think the heron was migrating north and either spent a night in one of our tall Norway spruce trees and saw the pond with orange fish the next morning or it raided the pond first and later spent the night in a spruce. Anyway, that heron was around for a few days between the time our fish disappeared to the time I saw that tall, feathered bandit soar into one of our spruces to spend yet another night before moving on.
Interestingly, great blues are also good at catching field mice in cow pastures that have a stream or brook running through them. The herons stalk the mice slowly and carefully, as they creep up on fish, then suddenly lunge their necks and bills forward to grab the mice in their long, sharp beaks. Of course the mice are furry and great blues are used to swallowing slippery prey, which would make swallowing a dry mouse difficult. But the great blues have solved that problem by dunking the mouse in a nearby brook, stream or pond to slick the fur, making ingesting the prey much easier. I've seen them do that several times over the years. Great blues gulp the mice down whole and headfirst, as they do with all their victims.
Great blue herons are also interesting birds in that they hunt prey animals by day and at night. And between feeding forays in winter they stand tall, gray and hunched-up in corn stubble, as they do in wind-beaten cattail marshes.
Big, handsome birds, great blue herons are common most everywhere there are waterways and impoundments in the Mid-Atlantic States, as elsewhere throughout much of North America. Many people enjoy seeing these stately birds in watery habitats, except those folks who have lost goldfish or koi to these adaptable, long-legged marauders.
It's interesting and inspiring to see these majestic herons flying ponderously into their nesting rookeries and to their individual nurseries with sticks and twigs in their beaks and weave those materials into the rims of their nests. Each female great blue lays about four eggs in her cradle and both members of each pair take turns incubating the eggs. Setting birds are hard to see in the nest because they are gray like the sticks and hunkered down in the cradle.
Great blue herons don't always have their rookeries to themselves, however. A pair or two of great horned owls, red-tailed hawks or bald eagles, all of which begin nesting in January, usurp a heron nursery or two, which were built in previous years, in some heron rookeries. A few of the eagles will even prey on some of the herons when they return to their nurseries in March.
Standing over four feet tall and being long-legged and long-necked, great blues are always intriguing to experience. They are magnificent birds in the way they walk, stalk prey in the water and fly. Being large, they are often easy to spot fishing in many larger, more open waterways and impoundments, but not always because of their gray, camouflaging plumage.
Great blue herons are adaptable and real survivors wherever there are waterways and impoundments. They have a varied diet of aquatic creatures and land-based ones. They carefully stalk on their long legs and catch fish, large and small, frogs, tadpoles, water insects and other aquatic critters by throwing out their lengthy necks and beaks.
Great blues are also adept at snaring goldfish and koi from backyard goldfish/koi ponds, much to the horror of many owners. One early March about five years ago, we were victims of a great blue catching all but one of our goldfish. I think the heron was migrating north and either spent a night in one of our tall Norway spruce trees and saw the pond with orange fish the next morning or it raided the pond first and later spent the night in a spruce. Anyway, that heron was around for a few days between the time our fish disappeared to the time I saw that tall, feathered bandit soar into one of our spruces to spend yet another night before moving on.
Interestingly, great blues are also good at catching field mice in cow pastures that have a stream or brook running through them. The herons stalk the mice slowly and carefully, as they creep up on fish, then suddenly lunge their necks and bills forward to grab the mice in their long, sharp beaks. Of course the mice are furry and great blues are used to swallowing slippery prey, which would make swallowing a dry mouse difficult. But the great blues have solved that problem by dunking the mouse in a nearby brook, stream or pond to slick the fur, making ingesting the prey much easier. I've seen them do that several times over the years. Great blues gulp the mice down whole and headfirst, as they do with all their victims.
Great blue herons are also interesting birds in that they hunt prey animals by day and at night. And between feeding forays in winter they stand tall, gray and hunched-up in corn stubble, as they do in wind-beaten cattail marshes.
Big, handsome birds, great blue herons are common most everywhere there are waterways and impoundments in the Mid-Atlantic States, as elsewhere throughout much of North America. Many people enjoy seeing these stately birds in watery habitats, except those folks who have lost goldfish or koi to these adaptable, long-legged marauders.
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Wildlife Along Highways
More wildlife lives along the shoulders and cloverleafs of expressways and highways than most of us realize. One has only to ride along one or more of those byways, anytime of year, and watch for wild creatures there to know what kinds and how many interesting critters there are along those heavily traveled roads. I have done that many times over the years, most recently on the Route 30 expressway between Lancaster and York on March five of this year and a few days later on Route 23, a highway that goes through New Holland. Both localities are in southeastern Pennsylvania, but represent highways across at least the eastern United States.
Route 30 between Lancaster and York has deep shoulders completely covered by vegetation that is mowed at times, except the trees, both planted and volunteers, but never plowed or cultivated, allowing plants to produce berries or seeds, some of which becomes wildlife food. Field mice and a limited variety of small birds inhabit that vegetation at least some part of their lives, and some of them fall prey to a variety of bird and mammal predators, including red foxes, striped skunks, certain kinds of hawks and owls and other species.
On March 5, while traveling along Route 30, I saw several creatures I have often seen along expressways in southeastern Pennsylvania in winter. Honking flocks of Canada geese regularly land on grassy expressway shoulders and cloverleafs to pluck and consume green blades of grass, as do sheep and goats. And some pairs of Canada geese hatch goslings in certain cloverleafs containing water-filled pools, grass, cattails, black willow trees and other wetland plants, all of which make the geese feel at home. Muskrats live permanently in some marshy cloverleafs and pairs of red-winged blackbirds and song sparrows raise young in many of them as well, the red-wings among cattails and the sparrows in shrubbery.
I saw a few flocks of starlings scattered along Route 30 on March five, two of them lined up on roadside wires resting and digesting between feeding forays and one in a cloverleaf poking through the grass with their sharp beaks for invertebrates, seeds and anything else edible. Groups of starlings often feed along highways through the year. This species of birds is highly adaptable and can take advantage of most any situation to its benefit.
Occasionally in spring, I'll see a gathering of American robins, here and there, on short-grass shoulders along expressways and highways. There they watch and listen for earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates of the grassroots level that they can feed on. Robins also eat berries and fruits from trees and bushes along roadside shoulders.
On March 5, while going from Lancaster to York on Route 30, I was thrilled to count 10 red-tailed hawks and two American kestrels perched in trees on the shoulders along 20 miles of that expressway. Those hawks know that many field mice live in the dense vegetation along both sides of that highway and they regularly assemble there for fairly easy pickings. Both species of raptors have watched for mice along that expressway, and others in southeastern Pennsylvania, every winter for many years, sometimes in higher numbers than I saw on March five.
On that day I saw two wood chucks moving about the grassy shoulders of Route 30 and eating grass and other vegetation. At this time of year male chucks are also looking for mates.
Wood chucks dig deep tunnels into the ground where they spend nights and sleep through the bulk of winter. And because of the lack of plowing on roadside shoulders and cloverleafs, their burrows are not disturbed or destroyed. Abandoned chuck holes are used by other mammals, including red foxes, skunks, cottontail rabbits and others.
Although I didn't see any on March fifth, I often see a few white-tailed deer and an occasional cottontail rabbit on the shoulders of local expressways and highways grazing on grass and nibbling woody vegetation. But because the fur of these two herbivore mammals is brown they are hard to see among the vegetation until they come out onto short grass to consume it. And, I must say, it is amazing where the adaptable deer and rabbits are in southeastern Pennsylvania.
I also noted a few groups each of turkey vultures, black vultures, American crows, rock pigeons and mourning doves in flight over Route 30 and fields bordering it. However, both kinds of vultures and the crows land along highway edges and shoulders to scavenge dead animals, such as deer, raccoons and other species of road-killed birds and mammals. The pigeons and doves eat seeds and grain in nearby fields, but come to roadsides to ingest tiny stones to help grind those seeds in their stomachs.
I saw large flocks of ring-billed gulls where Route 30 crosses the Susquehanna River, and smaller groups of them in parking lots along that highway east of York. I think ring-bills were in big numbers on the river because they are starting to migrate north to the Great Lakes, the St. Lawrence River and other parts of Canada where they raise young.
Gulls are devout scavengers of most anything edible and they evolved along the empty reaches of beaches, so parking lots are a familiar open space to them. And ring-bills, many years ago, adapted to wintering inland, such as up the Susquehanna and Delaware Rivers in southeastern Pennsylvania.
Driving home along Route 23 a few miles east of New Holland, I saw a large "river" of ring-billed gulls flying over that highway from one field to another to feed on earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates. Up to that time, I had not seen many birds along that road, so I was happy to see so many gulls in one bunch.
About a mile down Route 23 a few minutes later, I saw a black horde of thousands of purple grackles gathering in tall trees in a village. They probably had been feeding on invertebrates and grain in fields and landed in those trees to rest and digest before feeding again. There presence in such big numbers told of spring migrations.
Another mile down the same road, I saw a turkey vulture and an adult red-tailed hawk together on the shoulder of that highway. I stopped on the opposite shoulder, a small distance from the birds, and saw through my binoculars that the red-tail was eating a dead striped skunk that probably was hit by a vehicle on the road. The poor vulture was standing by, waiting its turn. Obviously, the hawk was higher on the pecking order of the two birds. But, apparently, the hawk couldn't tolerate my presence and flew away. Immediately, the vulture started tearing at the carcass with its beak. But that vulture was soon attacked by two others of its kind when the hawk took off. There was a lot of wing-flapping and pecking at each other until only one turkey vulture again attended the dead skunk.
Several kinds of plants and animals live along expressway and highway shoulders and cloverleafs, making them interesting wildlife habitats. So keep "an eye out" when riding along them to keep from getting bored on the trip.
Route 30 between Lancaster and York has deep shoulders completely covered by vegetation that is mowed at times, except the trees, both planted and volunteers, but never plowed or cultivated, allowing plants to produce berries or seeds, some of which becomes wildlife food. Field mice and a limited variety of small birds inhabit that vegetation at least some part of their lives, and some of them fall prey to a variety of bird and mammal predators, including red foxes, striped skunks, certain kinds of hawks and owls and other species.
On March 5, while traveling along Route 30, I saw several creatures I have often seen along expressways in southeastern Pennsylvania in winter. Honking flocks of Canada geese regularly land on grassy expressway shoulders and cloverleafs to pluck and consume green blades of grass, as do sheep and goats. And some pairs of Canada geese hatch goslings in certain cloverleafs containing water-filled pools, grass, cattails, black willow trees and other wetland plants, all of which make the geese feel at home. Muskrats live permanently in some marshy cloverleafs and pairs of red-winged blackbirds and song sparrows raise young in many of them as well, the red-wings among cattails and the sparrows in shrubbery.
I saw a few flocks of starlings scattered along Route 30 on March five, two of them lined up on roadside wires resting and digesting between feeding forays and one in a cloverleaf poking through the grass with their sharp beaks for invertebrates, seeds and anything else edible. Groups of starlings often feed along highways through the year. This species of birds is highly adaptable and can take advantage of most any situation to its benefit.
Occasionally in spring, I'll see a gathering of American robins, here and there, on short-grass shoulders along expressways and highways. There they watch and listen for earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates of the grassroots level that they can feed on. Robins also eat berries and fruits from trees and bushes along roadside shoulders.
On March 5, while going from Lancaster to York on Route 30, I was thrilled to count 10 red-tailed hawks and two American kestrels perched in trees on the shoulders along 20 miles of that expressway. Those hawks know that many field mice live in the dense vegetation along both sides of that highway and they regularly assemble there for fairly easy pickings. Both species of raptors have watched for mice along that expressway, and others in southeastern Pennsylvania, every winter for many years, sometimes in higher numbers than I saw on March five.
On that day I saw two wood chucks moving about the grassy shoulders of Route 30 and eating grass and other vegetation. At this time of year male chucks are also looking for mates.
Wood chucks dig deep tunnels into the ground where they spend nights and sleep through the bulk of winter. And because of the lack of plowing on roadside shoulders and cloverleafs, their burrows are not disturbed or destroyed. Abandoned chuck holes are used by other mammals, including red foxes, skunks, cottontail rabbits and others.
Although I didn't see any on March fifth, I often see a few white-tailed deer and an occasional cottontail rabbit on the shoulders of local expressways and highways grazing on grass and nibbling woody vegetation. But because the fur of these two herbivore mammals is brown they are hard to see among the vegetation until they come out onto short grass to consume it. And, I must say, it is amazing where the adaptable deer and rabbits are in southeastern Pennsylvania.
I also noted a few groups each of turkey vultures, black vultures, American crows, rock pigeons and mourning doves in flight over Route 30 and fields bordering it. However, both kinds of vultures and the crows land along highway edges and shoulders to scavenge dead animals, such as deer, raccoons and other species of road-killed birds and mammals. The pigeons and doves eat seeds and grain in nearby fields, but come to roadsides to ingest tiny stones to help grind those seeds in their stomachs.
I saw large flocks of ring-billed gulls where Route 30 crosses the Susquehanna River, and smaller groups of them in parking lots along that highway east of York. I think ring-bills were in big numbers on the river because they are starting to migrate north to the Great Lakes, the St. Lawrence River and other parts of Canada where they raise young.
Gulls are devout scavengers of most anything edible and they evolved along the empty reaches of beaches, so parking lots are a familiar open space to them. And ring-bills, many years ago, adapted to wintering inland, such as up the Susquehanna and Delaware Rivers in southeastern Pennsylvania.
Driving home along Route 23 a few miles east of New Holland, I saw a large "river" of ring-billed gulls flying over that highway from one field to another to feed on earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates. Up to that time, I had not seen many birds along that road, so I was happy to see so many gulls in one bunch.
About a mile down Route 23 a few minutes later, I saw a black horde of thousands of purple grackles gathering in tall trees in a village. They probably had been feeding on invertebrates and grain in fields and landed in those trees to rest and digest before feeding again. There presence in such big numbers told of spring migrations.
Another mile down the same road, I saw a turkey vulture and an adult red-tailed hawk together on the shoulder of that highway. I stopped on the opposite shoulder, a small distance from the birds, and saw through my binoculars that the red-tail was eating a dead striped skunk that probably was hit by a vehicle on the road. The poor vulture was standing by, waiting its turn. Obviously, the hawk was higher on the pecking order of the two birds. But, apparently, the hawk couldn't tolerate my presence and flew away. Immediately, the vulture started tearing at the carcass with its beak. But that vulture was soon attacked by two others of its kind when the hawk took off. There was a lot of wing-flapping and pecking at each other until only one turkey vulture again attended the dead skunk.
Several kinds of plants and animals live along expressway and highway shoulders and cloverleafs, making them interesting wildlife habitats. So keep "an eye out" when riding along them to keep from getting bored on the trip.
Sunday, March 12, 2017
Beautiful Weather and Sky
After several days of warmth, migrating geese and swans, courting wood frogs and blooming flowers, about two inches of wet snow fell on southeastern Pennsylvania on March 10. I saw the snow start falling just before 7:00 am and it continued until right about noon. It was my kind of snow in that it only accumulated beautifully on fields, lawns, tree limbs and gray, furry pussy willow catkins, but not on walkways and roads. This snowfall was pretty to see with no work for me.
Early that afternoon, cold wind blew away many of the clouds, resulting in a blue sky, puffy, white and dramatically huge cumulus clouds, and sunshine that melted some of the snow. The whole sky was wild-looking with those large, shifting clouds.
But enough snow laid on the ground all day to beautify the landscape and temporarily make it look like winter's starkness in spring's warmer sunshine and longer periods of daylight each succeeding day. That small amount of snow also enhanced the green of conifers, grass and winter rye, the gray of tree trunks and the blue of the sky. The snow offered a unique beauty that would be fleeting.
Just after sunset, I left home at 6:20 pm to go to a meeting. I drove into the vivid sunset through suburban areas and farmland. The western sky was red, the clouds were dark, offering a wild-looking contrast of foreboding colors. Every deciduous limb and twig and every sweeping, needled bough of coniferous trees were silhouetted black and striking before the ruddy western sky.
And as I drove along, I saw Venus shining low and alone in the sunset and the nearly-full moon in the eastern sky. The beautiful and striking sky was also reflected in puddles in the fields and along rural roads, adding more intrigue to my journey at dusk.
The sunset, Venus and the moon are all the result of sunlight. We see Venus and the moon because of sunshine bouncing off those heavenly bodies. And the lovely sunsets and sunrises are caused by sunlight diffused by Earth's atmosphere.
And as I drove along, I remembered that sometimes during other spring sunsets, I would see a flock of bugling Canada geese or mallard ducks flying across the sunset, creating a dramatic, beautiful picture of wildness. And, occasionally in the past, I would see a striped skunk, a raccoon, a cottontail rabbit or some other mammal along country roads at dusk. And this evening, I saw a skunk and a rabbit near the rural roads. Sometimes I am first alerted to the presence of a mammal in the dark of dusk by their eyes reflecting the light of my car headlights.
Two hours later, on the way home, moonlight reflected enchantingly off the snow that remained in the fields. And distant, green or yellow outdoor lights, seen across the fields, always remind me of model railroad lights that I saw in peoples' homes when I was a boy.
That light snowfall on March 10 was heavy in beauty and intrigue without the work or danger on roads. It was a pleasure to experience.
Early that afternoon, cold wind blew away many of the clouds, resulting in a blue sky, puffy, white and dramatically huge cumulus clouds, and sunshine that melted some of the snow. The whole sky was wild-looking with those large, shifting clouds.
But enough snow laid on the ground all day to beautify the landscape and temporarily make it look like winter's starkness in spring's warmer sunshine and longer periods of daylight each succeeding day. That small amount of snow also enhanced the green of conifers, grass and winter rye, the gray of tree trunks and the blue of the sky. The snow offered a unique beauty that would be fleeting.
Just after sunset, I left home at 6:20 pm to go to a meeting. I drove into the vivid sunset through suburban areas and farmland. The western sky was red, the clouds were dark, offering a wild-looking contrast of foreboding colors. Every deciduous limb and twig and every sweeping, needled bough of coniferous trees were silhouetted black and striking before the ruddy western sky.
And as I drove along, I saw Venus shining low and alone in the sunset and the nearly-full moon in the eastern sky. The beautiful and striking sky was also reflected in puddles in the fields and along rural roads, adding more intrigue to my journey at dusk.
The sunset, Venus and the moon are all the result of sunlight. We see Venus and the moon because of sunshine bouncing off those heavenly bodies. And the lovely sunsets and sunrises are caused by sunlight diffused by Earth's atmosphere.
And as I drove along, I remembered that sometimes during other spring sunsets, I would see a flock of bugling Canada geese or mallard ducks flying across the sunset, creating a dramatic, beautiful picture of wildness. And, occasionally in the past, I would see a striped skunk, a raccoon, a cottontail rabbit or some other mammal along country roads at dusk. And this evening, I saw a skunk and a rabbit near the rural roads. Sometimes I am first alerted to the presence of a mammal in the dark of dusk by their eyes reflecting the light of my car headlights.
Two hours later, on the way home, moonlight reflected enchantingly off the snow that remained in the fields. And distant, green or yellow outdoor lights, seen across the fields, always remind me of model railroad lights that I saw in peoples' homes when I was a boy.
That light snowfall on March 10 was heavy in beauty and intrigue without the work or danger on roads. It was a pleasure to experience.
Thursday, March 9, 2017
A Vernal Pond
On the morning of March 8 of this year, after a day or two of warmth and rain, I visited a bottomland, deciduous woods among several wooded hills in southeastern Pennsylvania to listen for male wood frogs that should now be croaking to get mates for spawning masses of eggs in shallow pools in that woodland. The weather was warm and sunny when I found an inches-deep pond in the woods where many male wood frogs were croaking hoarsely, as they would have during the last couple of rainy nights. While the male woodies called amorously, I estimated 170 individual egg masses in three big rafts of egg masses floating on the water's surface. There's about 50 eggs per individual mass and 170 masses for a total of at least 8500 wood frog eggs in that one pool. And there are still more eggs to come, judging by the many pairs of woodies still spawning on the surface of the puddle. Some of the copulating females leaped across mud or inch-deep water with their male partner hanging onto their backs. I noticed, too, that woodies are dark like the forest floor they live in to be nearly invisible to would-be predators.
I visited that pool in those bottomland woods for about two hours and the male wood frogs croaked most of that time. Their calling is another sign of spring's arrival. Explosive breeders, these wood frogs will spawn a few days, then retreat back to the dead-leaf-carpeted forest floor to spend the rest of the warmer months eating invertebrates. And they spend winters dormant in those deep carpets of dead leaves on the ground until warm, March rains wake them again.
The vernal, woodland pond where I experienced many spawning wood frogs is about 40 yards long and 10 yards wide on average, and its bottom was covered with dead leaves from last year, foliage that true katydids didn't get to eat. But those decaying leaves, and alga, will be food for developing wood frog tadpoles.
Certain plants in and around that vernal pond added to the beauty and interest of it, the frogs and their egg masses. Skunk cabbage flower hoods and dead tussock grass emerged from the shallows. Green moss covered small logs half submerged in the pool and the bases of red maple trees poking our of the muck and shallows like tiny islands. And a little green grass decorated the pool's shores here and there. Skunk cabbage leaves, tussock grass and the tadpoles will all grow together in this wooded swamp.
However, the bottomland woods surrounding that puddle is still gray and brown, as it is in winter. That woodland is dominated by red maple trees that do best in moist soil. But white oaks, pin oaks, shag-bark hickories and swamp white oaks are in that woods as well. They, too, are trees that do well in damp ground.
To hear croaking wood frogs, and the calls of other kinds of frogs and toads, is to step back many millions of years to the long-ago age of amphibians. Their simple mating calls have not changed in all those many years.
There are many colonies of breeding wood frogs in the forests of the eastern half of Canada and the United States, but this one is the best I have experienced so far because the woods where it's located is large, and undisturbed by people, except occasional vehicles passing close by.
Male woodies croaked almost incessantly and very excitedly from the moment I arrived at their vernal pond until I left it. They only get one chance a year to reproduce. Interestingly, they stopped vocalizing only when a vehicle drove by their spawning pool. They seem very aware of happenings in their environment. And I think the males listen to each other. When one starts croaking after a period of silence, they all chime in as competitors to get mates.
Every spring and into early summer, wood frog tadpoles in their shallow pools need to develop lungs and legs before those puddles dry up in the heat of summer. Some years the tadpoles win and hop onto the forest floor as tiny frogs and some years they die in a stinking, black heap where the water had been.
It takes effort to find wood frog spawning pools in deciduous woods in March. And one must listen for them at the right time or those puddles of lively, noisy frogs will be missed altogether because wood frogs spawn in a few days and disappear back in woodland floor rugs of dead leaves until the next spring. Woodies are obvious for a few days in spring and elusive the rest of the year, which is one of the reasons, I think, why they are so alluring to many outdoors people.
I visited that pool in those bottomland woods for about two hours and the male wood frogs croaked most of that time. Their calling is another sign of spring's arrival. Explosive breeders, these wood frogs will spawn a few days, then retreat back to the dead-leaf-carpeted forest floor to spend the rest of the warmer months eating invertebrates. And they spend winters dormant in those deep carpets of dead leaves on the ground until warm, March rains wake them again.
The vernal, woodland pond where I experienced many spawning wood frogs is about 40 yards long and 10 yards wide on average, and its bottom was covered with dead leaves from last year, foliage that true katydids didn't get to eat. But those decaying leaves, and alga, will be food for developing wood frog tadpoles.
Certain plants in and around that vernal pond added to the beauty and interest of it, the frogs and their egg masses. Skunk cabbage flower hoods and dead tussock grass emerged from the shallows. Green moss covered small logs half submerged in the pool and the bases of red maple trees poking our of the muck and shallows like tiny islands. And a little green grass decorated the pool's shores here and there. Skunk cabbage leaves, tussock grass and the tadpoles will all grow together in this wooded swamp.
However, the bottomland woods surrounding that puddle is still gray and brown, as it is in winter. That woodland is dominated by red maple trees that do best in moist soil. But white oaks, pin oaks, shag-bark hickories and swamp white oaks are in that woods as well. They, too, are trees that do well in damp ground.
To hear croaking wood frogs, and the calls of other kinds of frogs and toads, is to step back many millions of years to the long-ago age of amphibians. Their simple mating calls have not changed in all those many years.
There are many colonies of breeding wood frogs in the forests of the eastern half of Canada and the United States, but this one is the best I have experienced so far because the woods where it's located is large, and undisturbed by people, except occasional vehicles passing close by.
Male woodies croaked almost incessantly and very excitedly from the moment I arrived at their vernal pond until I left it. They only get one chance a year to reproduce. Interestingly, they stopped vocalizing only when a vehicle drove by their spawning pool. They seem very aware of happenings in their environment. And I think the males listen to each other. When one starts croaking after a period of silence, they all chime in as competitors to get mates.
Every spring and into early summer, wood frog tadpoles in their shallow pools need to develop lungs and legs before those puddles dry up in the heat of summer. Some years the tadpoles win and hop onto the forest floor as tiny frogs and some years they die in a stinking, black heap where the water had been.
It takes effort to find wood frog spawning pools in deciduous woods in March. And one must listen for them at the right time or those puddles of lively, noisy frogs will be missed altogether because wood frogs spawn in a few days and disappear back in woodland floor rugs of dead leaves until the next spring. Woodies are obvious for a few days in spring and elusive the rest of the year, which is one of the reasons, I think, why they are so alluring to many outdoors people.
Monday, March 6, 2017
Ducks on the Move
During much of February and into early March of this year, I visited several inland, human-made impoundments, large and small, in southeastern Pennsylvania to see what kinds of ducks migrated through here in the greatest numbers. I visited some of those same lakes and ponds in winter, which were mostly ice-free, so I was able to know which ducks wintered here, mostly mallards, black ducks and common mergansers, and which ones were migrants. American wigeons, ring-necked ducks, northern pintails and green-winged teal were the most common and noticeable of migrating ducks this spring in this area. And there was a sprinkling each of hooded mergansers, lesser scaups and shoveler ducks.
The plump, little wigeons were THEE most abundant of migrating ducks in this area this spring. Wigeons are dabbling ducks meaning they "tip-up" with their tails pointed to the sky so they can use their beaks to dredge aquatic plants from the bottoms of shallow waters. They also have a couple of other ways of getting food. They graze on grass and shoots of winter rye like geese do, right there with the geese. And wigeons rob coots and diving ducks, including ring-necks, of the water vegetation they bring to the surface to swallow. The wigeons rush to the surfacing water birds and grab the plants with their beaks from the bills of the coots and ducks before those poor, hard-working birds have a chance to defend what is rightfully theirs.
Ring-necked ducks are a species of diving ducks in the bay duck branch. They slip under water from the surface to pull up water vegetation and seize aquatic insects and snails from the bottoms and take all that to the surface to swallow.
Other kinds of bay ducks in North America include canvasbacks, red-heads and two kinds of scaups, which mostly winter in rafts of hundreds in brackish or salt water bays, back waters and harbors off the oceans. But ring-necks, being partial to fresh water, today winter mostly on larger inland impoundments, and are more likely to migrate inland as well. This divergence of life style from that of its relatives has given ring-necks a wintering niche of their own with reduced competition for space and food.
Northern pintails are lean ducks and swift flyers. They are dabblers of water plants, as are wigeons, but also join mallards, geese and swans in harvested corn fields to shovel up waste corn kernels found on the ground.
Little groups of migrant pintails engage in courtship flights early in the vernal season, which are interesting and thrilling to watch. About a half-dozen drakes surround a female pintail on a pond. Eventually, she takes swift flight, followed by her handsome suitors. The whole little assemblage of pintails loops speedily around the impoundment and surrounding land several times and the male that keeps up to the female the best gets to be her mate for the coming breeding season. Perhaps that is why pintails are so swift on the wing; only the fastest pass on their genetic code.
The pretty green-winged teal are "pint-sized" dabbling ducks, being only half the size of mallards. Teal prefer inches-deep water on the edges of ponds, ditches and flooded fields where they mostly consume the small seeds of wetland plants, including sedges, grasses, pondweeds and smartweeds. And teal visit harvested grain fields, joining other dabblers, geese and swans there.
The tiny green-wings fly swiftly in tight formations, twisting and turning in flight like one body with remarkable precision and without collision. They are a joy to watch in the air.
The numbers and kinds of migrant ducks here in spring may vary from year to year, depending on winter weather and other factors, but it's always cheering to experience those ducks on the move in southeastern Pennsylvania in February and March. They are another, early sign that spring is arriving!
The plump, little wigeons were THEE most abundant of migrating ducks in this area this spring. Wigeons are dabbling ducks meaning they "tip-up" with their tails pointed to the sky so they can use their beaks to dredge aquatic plants from the bottoms of shallow waters. They also have a couple of other ways of getting food. They graze on grass and shoots of winter rye like geese do, right there with the geese. And wigeons rob coots and diving ducks, including ring-necks, of the water vegetation they bring to the surface to swallow. The wigeons rush to the surfacing water birds and grab the plants with their beaks from the bills of the coots and ducks before those poor, hard-working birds have a chance to defend what is rightfully theirs.
Ring-necked ducks are a species of diving ducks in the bay duck branch. They slip under water from the surface to pull up water vegetation and seize aquatic insects and snails from the bottoms and take all that to the surface to swallow.
Other kinds of bay ducks in North America include canvasbacks, red-heads and two kinds of scaups, which mostly winter in rafts of hundreds in brackish or salt water bays, back waters and harbors off the oceans. But ring-necks, being partial to fresh water, today winter mostly on larger inland impoundments, and are more likely to migrate inland as well. This divergence of life style from that of its relatives has given ring-necks a wintering niche of their own with reduced competition for space and food.
Northern pintails are lean ducks and swift flyers. They are dabblers of water plants, as are wigeons, but also join mallards, geese and swans in harvested corn fields to shovel up waste corn kernels found on the ground.
Little groups of migrant pintails engage in courtship flights early in the vernal season, which are interesting and thrilling to watch. About a half-dozen drakes surround a female pintail on a pond. Eventually, she takes swift flight, followed by her handsome suitors. The whole little assemblage of pintails loops speedily around the impoundment and surrounding land several times and the male that keeps up to the female the best gets to be her mate for the coming breeding season. Perhaps that is why pintails are so swift on the wing; only the fastest pass on their genetic code.
The pretty green-winged teal are "pint-sized" dabbling ducks, being only half the size of mallards. Teal prefer inches-deep water on the edges of ponds, ditches and flooded fields where they mostly consume the small seeds of wetland plants, including sedges, grasses, pondweeds and smartweeds. And teal visit harvested grain fields, joining other dabblers, geese and swans there.
The tiny green-wings fly swiftly in tight formations, twisting and turning in flight like one body with remarkable precision and without collision. They are a joy to watch in the air.
The numbers and kinds of migrant ducks here in spring may vary from year to year, depending on winter weather and other factors, but it's always cheering to experience those ducks on the move in southeastern Pennsylvania in February and March. They are another, early sign that spring is arriving!
Friday, March 3, 2017
Spring Early in March
Natural events happen in spring in a predictable sequence that progresses rapidly. By early March there already is much to experience in nature in southeastern Pennsylvania. This year's sequence of natural occurrences is a bit early because of the mild winter and spring we've had here so far. But we could yet have cold, snow and ice this spring, which would delay natural events until the weather warms again. And when the temperatures do rise, spring's progression will come roaring back.
A few kinds of small, simple plants, including perennial snow drops, winter aconites, scilla and crocuses that grow from bulbs planted on lawns and in flower beds, and Veronicas and purple dead netttles that grow wild on lawns and in fields, are already in bloom by early March. All these plants that provide early beauties are originally from Europe and Asia, all are close to the ground to avoid cold winds and soak up the heat from the sun-heated soil, and all spread to form bigger patches of themselves through the years. Snow drops have white blossoms that look like tiny bells. Each aconite plant has one yellow bloom, while the flowers of scilla are sky-blue and seem to reflect the clear sky. Each crocus plant has a single yellow, white or purple flower with orange pollen on its anthers. Patches of Veronica, on lawns mostly, are pale-blue with flowers while those of dead nettles, in fields for the most part, are pink with their many blossoms.
By early March spring witch Hazels still have yellow and orange flowers, pussy willows are decorated with many gray, furry catkins, silver maple trees have yellow and dull-red blooms and red maple trees are just beginning to have ruby-red blossoms. The many lovely flowers of red maples make the canopies of bottomland woods red and attractive.
Maple sugaring, which is another wonderful sign of the vernal season, continues in March. One can see buckets, or other containers, perched on maple and birch trees to collect the sap that is boiled down to syrup. Warm afternoons cause the cells in the cambium layer, just under the bark, to expand and soak up sap from below. Cold nights cause those same cells to contract, pushing the sap up to cells a bit higher in the cambium layer, which defies gravity.
In March there already is a greening of certain plants, including short grass on lawns, winter rye in fields, weeping willow leaf buds, and field garlic, stinging nettles and poison hemlock plants on lawns and in fields. Garlic is originally from Europe and is a perennial that grows from white, underground bulbs like onions. Field garlic has grass-like, hollow leaves that stand upright. The leaves and bulbs have a strong, onion scent that is a fragrant part of early spring in the eastern half of the United States.
Migrant snow geese, tundra swans and a variety of duck species are still here early in March, but will soon migrate farther north and west to their respective nesting territories. Majestic flocks of these stately birds have thrilled local people for the few weeks they are in southeastern Pennsylvania waiting for spring to catch up to their restless urges to move on.
Early in March, too, pairs of Canada geese and mallard ducks continue to look for nesting sites in tall vegetation on the ground near bodies of water and waterways. Each pair keeps to itself and pairs of Canadas squabble and fight noisily and viciously with wings and beaks over nesting spots. Those wild, honking combats spread pairs of Canadas farther over the landscape, insuring each pair has enough food for its goslings.
Flocks of American robins, purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds return to this area at this time. I see striking groups of robins running and stopping on lawns where I had not seen them all winter. Robins are looking and listening for earthworms in the soil at the grass roots level, earthworms they can easily seize in their beaks and pull out of the ground.
Mixed hordes of grackles and red-wings pour into this area and flood across fields and lawns in search of grain, seeds, invertebrates and anything else edible. On the ground, one can see the lovely purple sheen on the feathers of the grackles. And in the air, one will notice the beautiful, red shoulder patches of male red-wings glowing and flickering like red-hot coals in a dark furnace.
Early March is full of wildlife activities. Pairs of lovely eastern bluebirds check out tree cavities and bird boxes for nesting sites while wood chucks eat early vegetation and look for mates. Male woodcocks continue their intriguing aerial-courtship ballets. Painted turtles and red-eared sliders sun themselves on warm afternoons while American crows carry materials to their nurseries in lone trees in fields. And pairs of wood ducks have just arrived back and are already looking for nesting cavities and wood duck nest boxes where each female can hatch up to 15 ducklings.
Courtship activities continue at night. During the day we see dead striped skunks, opossums, cottontail rabbits and muskrats that were run over by vehicles on roads during the night. My feeling is that most of these small mammals were males that were traveling over unfamiliar territories in search of mates. Unfortunately, they were looking for springtime love, but only found death. But, fortunately, not all the males are needed to fertilize the females of their respective kinds and so their species continue.
Early in March, if the weather is warm and rain falls heavily for a while, wood frogs and spotted salamanders wake up, exit carpets of dead, soggy leaves on forest floors and make their way across the soaked forest floor to temporary puddles of rain and snow melt. There each species spawns eggs in the pools, the salamanders silently, but the male frogs with much gusto and lusty, hoarse croaking that sounds like several quacking ducks being strangled. After a couple of days of spawning, the frogs and salamanders retreat back into the damp, dead-leaf carpet, leaving their multitudes of eggs behind in the puddle to develop and hatch on their own.
These are only some natural events that happen early in March in southeastern Pennsylvania. Readers can look for spring happenings around their homes, wherever they may be.
A few kinds of small, simple plants, including perennial snow drops, winter aconites, scilla and crocuses that grow from bulbs planted on lawns and in flower beds, and Veronicas and purple dead netttles that grow wild on lawns and in fields, are already in bloom by early March. All these plants that provide early beauties are originally from Europe and Asia, all are close to the ground to avoid cold winds and soak up the heat from the sun-heated soil, and all spread to form bigger patches of themselves through the years. Snow drops have white blossoms that look like tiny bells. Each aconite plant has one yellow bloom, while the flowers of scilla are sky-blue and seem to reflect the clear sky. Each crocus plant has a single yellow, white or purple flower with orange pollen on its anthers. Patches of Veronica, on lawns mostly, are pale-blue with flowers while those of dead nettles, in fields for the most part, are pink with their many blossoms.
By early March spring witch Hazels still have yellow and orange flowers, pussy willows are decorated with many gray, furry catkins, silver maple trees have yellow and dull-red blooms and red maple trees are just beginning to have ruby-red blossoms. The many lovely flowers of red maples make the canopies of bottomland woods red and attractive.
Maple sugaring, which is another wonderful sign of the vernal season, continues in March. One can see buckets, or other containers, perched on maple and birch trees to collect the sap that is boiled down to syrup. Warm afternoons cause the cells in the cambium layer, just under the bark, to expand and soak up sap from below. Cold nights cause those same cells to contract, pushing the sap up to cells a bit higher in the cambium layer, which defies gravity.
In March there already is a greening of certain plants, including short grass on lawns, winter rye in fields, weeping willow leaf buds, and field garlic, stinging nettles and poison hemlock plants on lawns and in fields. Garlic is originally from Europe and is a perennial that grows from white, underground bulbs like onions. Field garlic has grass-like, hollow leaves that stand upright. The leaves and bulbs have a strong, onion scent that is a fragrant part of early spring in the eastern half of the United States.
Migrant snow geese, tundra swans and a variety of duck species are still here early in March, but will soon migrate farther north and west to their respective nesting territories. Majestic flocks of these stately birds have thrilled local people for the few weeks they are in southeastern Pennsylvania waiting for spring to catch up to their restless urges to move on.
Early in March, too, pairs of Canada geese and mallard ducks continue to look for nesting sites in tall vegetation on the ground near bodies of water and waterways. Each pair keeps to itself and pairs of Canadas squabble and fight noisily and viciously with wings and beaks over nesting spots. Those wild, honking combats spread pairs of Canadas farther over the landscape, insuring each pair has enough food for its goslings.
Flocks of American robins, purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds return to this area at this time. I see striking groups of robins running and stopping on lawns where I had not seen them all winter. Robins are looking and listening for earthworms in the soil at the grass roots level, earthworms they can easily seize in their beaks and pull out of the ground.
Mixed hordes of grackles and red-wings pour into this area and flood across fields and lawns in search of grain, seeds, invertebrates and anything else edible. On the ground, one can see the lovely purple sheen on the feathers of the grackles. And in the air, one will notice the beautiful, red shoulder patches of male red-wings glowing and flickering like red-hot coals in a dark furnace.
Early March is full of wildlife activities. Pairs of lovely eastern bluebirds check out tree cavities and bird boxes for nesting sites while wood chucks eat early vegetation and look for mates. Male woodcocks continue their intriguing aerial-courtship ballets. Painted turtles and red-eared sliders sun themselves on warm afternoons while American crows carry materials to their nurseries in lone trees in fields. And pairs of wood ducks have just arrived back and are already looking for nesting cavities and wood duck nest boxes where each female can hatch up to 15 ducklings.
Courtship activities continue at night. During the day we see dead striped skunks, opossums, cottontail rabbits and muskrats that were run over by vehicles on roads during the night. My feeling is that most of these small mammals were males that were traveling over unfamiliar territories in search of mates. Unfortunately, they were looking for springtime love, but only found death. But, fortunately, not all the males are needed to fertilize the females of their respective kinds and so their species continue.
Early in March, if the weather is warm and rain falls heavily for a while, wood frogs and spotted salamanders wake up, exit carpets of dead, soggy leaves on forest floors and make their way across the soaked forest floor to temporary puddles of rain and snow melt. There each species spawns eggs in the pools, the salamanders silently, but the male frogs with much gusto and lusty, hoarse croaking that sounds like several quacking ducks being strangled. After a couple of days of spawning, the frogs and salamanders retreat back into the damp, dead-leaf carpet, leaving their multitudes of eggs behind in the puddle to develop and hatch on their own.
These are only some natural events that happen early in March in southeastern Pennsylvania. Readers can look for spring happenings around their homes, wherever they may be.
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