There was a time when I yearned to go to far away places to experience nature; and I still do once in a while. But I quickly realized there is enough natural happenings in every direction within an hour's drive of home to keep me busy and inspired the rest of my life. No matter the time of year or day, place or the weather, there is always something of interest and inspiration to experience in nature. Furthermore, nature is always evolving, and with the seasons, there is always something new in nature to experience. So, while it may be fashionable, and impressive to some people, to travel to much of the world to enjoy natural happenings, it isn't necessary. Naturalist-writer John Burroughs wrote, "One has only to sit in the woods or fields or by the shore of river or lake and nearly everything of interest will come round to him. What a voyage we make without leaving for a night our own fireside". St. Pierre stated " A sense of nature's power and mystery shall spring up as fully in one's heart after he has made a circuit of his own fields as after returning home from a voyage around the world". And Henry David Thoreau predicted that " it you sit in one place in the woods or fields, sooner or later every inhabitant will pass by. Obviously, all three men said the same thing. And I do, too! All this world, all the places to be, most of it I will never see. My world is close to home. It changes every day so I need not go away. And neither does anyone else to note the beauties and intrigues of nature. The natural world is basically the same the world over.
Carl Linnaeus wrote, "I saw the infinite, all-knowing and all-powerful God from behind as He went away and I grew dizzy. I followed His footsteps over nature's fields and saw everywhere an eternal wisdom and power, an inscrutable perfection". Nature is God's handwork. I can understand what Linnaeus wrote when I stand in nature's beauty and wonder, even in the midst of human works and human-made habitats.
Nature's abundance and variety overwhelms me in my home area- heavily populated southeastern Pennsylvania. Much of the wild plants and animals here had to adapt to human activities and human-made habitats, and still are. New niches will always be developing here and throughout this rapidly changing Earth because of human activities. And new forms of life will eventually fill each one of those niches, as has been happening with life throughout this planet's existence. As time proceeds, nature will be forever evolving to fit into changing conditions. It will never remain constant: Nor should it. Stagnation leads to extinction. Life must change to fit into changing conditions, even human-made ones. Adapting is a key to success.
My advice to anyone wanting to enjoy the beauties and intrigues of nature is to get outside almost anywhere you are to experience nature there, on a near daily basis, if possible. Nature at home is as interesting as anywhere in the universe.
Tuesday, January 30, 2018
Saturday, January 27, 2018
Long-tailed and Harlequin Ducks
There was a report of someone seeing more than 40 long-tailed ducks on the Susquehanna River at Harrisburg, Pennsylvania on December, 2017. That number of long-tails so far inland is remarkable. That species nests by lakes and ponds on the Arctic tundra where multitudes of courting drakes are noisy as each one repeatedly calls "ow owdle ow". But most long-tails winter along sea coasts. That group of long-tailed ducks on the Susquehanna may have been moving south and to the Atlantic Coast for the winter, but stopped on the river to rest and feed.
Drake long-tailed and harlequin ducks, in winter, are the prettiest ducks along the Atlantic Ocean Coast in northeastern North America. The colors and color patterns of their feathering are attractive and distinctive, making them thrilling to see bobbing in the waves along the shores of the ocean, inlets and estuaries they inhabit during winter.
Females of both these small species of ducks, however, are a little browner and plainer. Male and female long-tails have brown and white plumages, but the patterns are different on each gender. And drake long-tails have two long, black feathers protruding from their tails that give them their name.
Male harlequins have dark-steel-blue, white and rusty feathering, which is very striking. But their mates that brood eggs and ducklings are better camouflaged with brown plumages, and two white dots on each side of their faces.
Rafts of common and beautiful long-tails winter along the Atlantic Ocean from Newfoundland south to North Carolina's Outer Banks. There they swiftly fly just above the breakers along ocean beaches, creating picturesque, inspiring scenes. They land on the water just beyond the breakers in the ocean, as well as on inlets off the ocean. There they dive under water to feed on mollusks, particularly mussels, small crustaceans and some small fish. Some long-tails, however, winter on the Great Lakes and southern Hudson Bay, if parts of them have open water all winter.
The foot-long harlequin ducks winter along rocky coastlines and human-made rock jetties on Atlantic beaches in the eastern United States south to Virginia. There they bob in the waves right beside the semi-immersed boulders and strip blue mussels and small crustaceans off those rocks with their beaks. Though the handsome harlequins and long-tails both dive and swim under water to consume the same kinds of foods, they don't directly compete with each other because they get their food in different niches, and, therefore, can live in the same general habitat with little rivalry for winter sustenance. Both these species, like several kinds of ducks, run and flap across water to become airborne, however.
And these two small kinds of ducks don't compete for nesting sites on the Arctic tundra either. Harlequin hens hatch young along cold, fast-moving streams, not ponds like long-tail females. However, the young of both species ingest lots of insects as they quickly grow up during the short Arctic summer.
If along the Atlantic Coast in winter, look for these two kinds of handsome ducks near the beaches and rock jetties. Their striking plumages, especially on the drakes, and interesting habits are well worth the effort. They are real beauties along the winter seacoasts.
Drake long-tailed and harlequin ducks, in winter, are the prettiest ducks along the Atlantic Ocean Coast in northeastern North America. The colors and color patterns of their feathering are attractive and distinctive, making them thrilling to see bobbing in the waves along the shores of the ocean, inlets and estuaries they inhabit during winter.
Females of both these small species of ducks, however, are a little browner and plainer. Male and female long-tails have brown and white plumages, but the patterns are different on each gender. And drake long-tails have two long, black feathers protruding from their tails that give them their name.
Male harlequins have dark-steel-blue, white and rusty feathering, which is very striking. But their mates that brood eggs and ducklings are better camouflaged with brown plumages, and two white dots on each side of their faces.
Rafts of common and beautiful long-tails winter along the Atlantic Ocean from Newfoundland south to North Carolina's Outer Banks. There they swiftly fly just above the breakers along ocean beaches, creating picturesque, inspiring scenes. They land on the water just beyond the breakers in the ocean, as well as on inlets off the ocean. There they dive under water to feed on mollusks, particularly mussels, small crustaceans and some small fish. Some long-tails, however, winter on the Great Lakes and southern Hudson Bay, if parts of them have open water all winter.
The foot-long harlequin ducks winter along rocky coastlines and human-made rock jetties on Atlantic beaches in the eastern United States south to Virginia. There they bob in the waves right beside the semi-immersed boulders and strip blue mussels and small crustaceans off those rocks with their beaks. Though the handsome harlequins and long-tails both dive and swim under water to consume the same kinds of foods, they don't directly compete with each other because they get their food in different niches, and, therefore, can live in the same general habitat with little rivalry for winter sustenance. Both these species, like several kinds of ducks, run and flap across water to become airborne, however.
And these two small kinds of ducks don't compete for nesting sites on the Arctic tundra either. Harlequin hens hatch young along cold, fast-moving streams, not ponds like long-tail females. However, the young of both species ingest lots of insects as they quickly grow up during the short Arctic summer.
If along the Atlantic Coast in winter, look for these two kinds of handsome ducks near the beaches and rock jetties. Their striking plumages, especially on the drakes, and interesting habits are well worth the effort. They are real beauties along the winter seacoasts.
Thursday, January 25, 2018
Winter Skies at Dusk
To me, the middle of November to mid-February is winter in the Middle Atlantic States, based on natural happenings here. Winter skies at dusk in this region are beautifully striking. Winter sunsets in clear skies are brilliantly red, or the sky may be filled with gray cumulus clouds, edged and blotched with yellow, light orange or pale pink. All winter sunsets constantly change and rapidly fade as the sun drops below the western horizon. And the inspiring beauty of each sunset is doubled when reflected in the still water of ponds.
Snow cover on the ground enhances the colors of landscapes, vegetation and winter sunsets. Drifting snow on cropland at sunset looks like pink smoke, as if those fields are on fire. I have seen flocks of mallard ducks descending and disappearing into pink, drifting snow to feed on kernels of corn in a couple inches of snow in harvested corn fields.
The four seasons in the upper latitudes of Earth are caused by our planet's circling the sun and tilting on its axis. Sunsets are a minute earlier each succeeding day to December 21st, the winter solstice. But after December 22nd, sunsets become a minute later each succeeding day when the sun "returns" north as the Earth's northern hemisphere begins tilting toward the sun.
Deciduous and coniferous trees and shrubs are beautifully silhouetted black before striking sunsets. Each trunk, limb and twig of deciduous trees and bushes are delicately etched on brilliantly-colored, aerial canvases. And needled boughs of coniferous trees look solid and cone-shaped.
At dusk, the full moon "rises" large and light orange from the eastern horizon as the sunset fades
in the western sky. The moon continues to rise, and appears smaller and white, as the Earth turns on its axis about a thousand miles an hour. The moon looked large and orange when first peeking above the horizon because it was at an oblique angle to the viewer and was shining through more atmosphere than when shining more directly from above.
Moonlight, which is sunlight bouncing off the moon, and snow cover on the ground brighten the landscape almost like day after sunsets fade each day. The countryside is beautiful and enchanting in the moonlit snow that also silhouettes trees and other objects.
As each sunset fades in a clear sky, we start to see a sprinkling of stars and planets. The beauties of those Heavenly bodies are enhanced by seeing them through binoculars or a scope.
Some species of wildlife are also silhouetted black before winter sunsets. Flocks of honking Canada geese and mallard ducks on whistling wings are seen flying before brilliant sunsets. At dusk, both species take off from ponds and slower waterways to power to corn fields to consume corn kernels, or the green leaves of winter rye in rye fields in the case of the geese.
Every winter mid-afternoon to sunset, long, inspiring streams of silhouetted American crows flow from most every direction to their nightly roost. They are in the Middle Atlantic States from their nesting grounds in Canadian forests only for the winter to get food more easily than they could in Canada. These crows spend every winter day ingesting corn kernels from fields, acorns from lawns and woodland edges, and garbage from trash cans, dumpsters and landfills.
If one watches for them from late afternoon to sunset, individual red-tailed hawks and Cooper's hawks, and little groups of mourning doves, on whistling wings, can be seen flashing into tall coniferous trees to spend the night. The hawks are particularly thrilling to see going to roost before a lovely sunset.
Occasionally, I see one or two of a pair of great horned owls hooting to each other while perched on the tips of high evergreens at sunset. They are a thrilling sight silhouetted black in front of a crimson or yellow sky.
And, occasionally, I'm thrilled to see little groups of white-tailed deer grazing in fields, and silhouetted black against a brilliant sky. And a bit later, I am privileged to see them silhouetted on moonlit snow in those same fields.
Winter skies at dusk are beautiful, intriguing and inspiring in many ways. We need only to get out to look at them, and the landscape and creatures they affect.
Snow cover on the ground enhances the colors of landscapes, vegetation and winter sunsets. Drifting snow on cropland at sunset looks like pink smoke, as if those fields are on fire. I have seen flocks of mallard ducks descending and disappearing into pink, drifting snow to feed on kernels of corn in a couple inches of snow in harvested corn fields.
The four seasons in the upper latitudes of Earth are caused by our planet's circling the sun and tilting on its axis. Sunsets are a minute earlier each succeeding day to December 21st, the winter solstice. But after December 22nd, sunsets become a minute later each succeeding day when the sun "returns" north as the Earth's northern hemisphere begins tilting toward the sun.
Deciduous and coniferous trees and shrubs are beautifully silhouetted black before striking sunsets. Each trunk, limb and twig of deciduous trees and bushes are delicately etched on brilliantly-colored, aerial canvases. And needled boughs of coniferous trees look solid and cone-shaped.
At dusk, the full moon "rises" large and light orange from the eastern horizon as the sunset fades
in the western sky. The moon continues to rise, and appears smaller and white, as the Earth turns on its axis about a thousand miles an hour. The moon looked large and orange when first peeking above the horizon because it was at an oblique angle to the viewer and was shining through more atmosphere than when shining more directly from above.
Moonlight, which is sunlight bouncing off the moon, and snow cover on the ground brighten the landscape almost like day after sunsets fade each day. The countryside is beautiful and enchanting in the moonlit snow that also silhouettes trees and other objects.
As each sunset fades in a clear sky, we start to see a sprinkling of stars and planets. The beauties of those Heavenly bodies are enhanced by seeing them through binoculars or a scope.
Some species of wildlife are also silhouetted black before winter sunsets. Flocks of honking Canada geese and mallard ducks on whistling wings are seen flying before brilliant sunsets. At dusk, both species take off from ponds and slower waterways to power to corn fields to consume corn kernels, or the green leaves of winter rye in rye fields in the case of the geese.
Every winter mid-afternoon to sunset, long, inspiring streams of silhouetted American crows flow from most every direction to their nightly roost. They are in the Middle Atlantic States from their nesting grounds in Canadian forests only for the winter to get food more easily than they could in Canada. These crows spend every winter day ingesting corn kernels from fields, acorns from lawns and woodland edges, and garbage from trash cans, dumpsters and landfills.
If one watches for them from late afternoon to sunset, individual red-tailed hawks and Cooper's hawks, and little groups of mourning doves, on whistling wings, can be seen flashing into tall coniferous trees to spend the night. The hawks are particularly thrilling to see going to roost before a lovely sunset.
Occasionally, I see one or two of a pair of great horned owls hooting to each other while perched on the tips of high evergreens at sunset. They are a thrilling sight silhouetted black in front of a crimson or yellow sky.
And, occasionally, I'm thrilled to see little groups of white-tailed deer grazing in fields, and silhouetted black against a brilliant sky. And a bit later, I am privileged to see them silhouetted on moonlit snow in those same fields.
Winter skies at dusk are beautiful, intriguing and inspiring in many ways. We need only to get out to look at them, and the landscape and creatures they affect.
Monday, January 22, 2018
Feathered Poetry in the Wind
On the afternoon of January 20, this past, I arrived at a pond at Morgantown, Pennsylvania in time to see the sky over that impoundment filled with a few hundred Canada geese in several, varying-sized, loudly-honking groups wheeling over the ice-covered pond, then floating down, effortlessly, like feathered parachutes, into the wind, and back-flapping to slow their descent just before landing on the ice. Flock after flock followed each other down to the ice as if on an aerial, descending highway. Within a few minutes, all the Canadas were standing or lying on the ice, bugling noisily, as is their custom. Those geese came back to their roosting place after feeding on corn kernels in a harvested cornfield or the green blades of rye plants in a winter rye field. What inspired me most about those geese, as always, was the usual beauty and poetry of their controlled descent.
All birds take off into the wind for lift. The front edges of their wings are shaped to allow wind to push from under each wing for that lift. And birds descend to water, ground, tree limbs and other objects into the wind for flight control.
But different kinds of birds have different ways of flying, depending on their size, shape, weight and other factors. Some birds are power fliers. Others soar a lot, while some regularly hover into the wind. And still others have a buoyant flight.
Canada geese, other types of geese and ducks are swift power fliers, with steady series of deep, downward strokes. Some species of geese fly in lines and V's to better slip through the air. Lead birds push the air away, allowing following birds easier passage through it.
Several kinds of birds in southeastern Pennsylvania, as elsewhere, including ring-billed gulls, red-tailed hawks, broad-winged hawks and turkey vultures, soar and wheel leisurely on high, with little effort, creating inspiring, entertaining spectacles in the sky. Ring-bills and broad-wings are particularly light and dainty in flight. And they swirl and circle in large groups in rising columns of sun-warmed air called thermals, the gulls over sources of food and the broadies during September when they migrate south, in groups, to northern South America to escape the food scarcity of winter in the northern hemisphere.
Red-tailed hawks are majestic soaring on the wind. They float buoyantly on stretched-flat wings for extended periods of time without once beating their wings, which saves them much energy. Adult red-tails have bright orange tails which are visible from below when those birds turn on the wind. But turkey vultures are the most elegant of soaring birds in the sky. They float gracefully on the wind and thermals for hours with barely a wing beat, saving lots of energy, as they search for carrion on the ground to eat. Turkey vultures are large and dark, and hold the tips of their wings upward, which aids in identifying them in the air. But the biggest help in identifying these vultures is their habit of tipping from side to side for better flight control.
American kestrels, rough-legged hawks, belted kingfishers and ring-billed gulls, all of which winter in southeastern Pennsylvania, are good at hovering gracefully, on rapidly beating wings, into the wind as they watch one spot below for food. Kestrels and rough-legs hover over fields and roadside edges during winter in their quest for mice. Kingfishers and ring-bills helicopter over water as they watch for small fish and other aquatic critters to consume. But if no victims are spotted, each bird flies on and hovers someplace else, and, again, someplace else. All these birds are entertaining and interesting to study hovering, then dropping swiftly to land or water to snare prey animals.
Short-eared owls, and northern harriers, which are a kind of hawk, work hard low to the ground to catch mice and small birds in grassy, open habitats. Though in different families of birds, these species are similar in hunting techniques because they share the same habitat- grasslands with few if any trees. Few perches are in those habitats so these birds are obliged to course back and forth, slowly and buoyantly, low to the ground, into the wind to watch and listen for prey. Each species alternately flaps and soars, with lots of turns, skimming swoops and dives into the grass after prey. Sometimes there are a few of one species or the other in a field. And, sometimes, there are mixed groups of these two species of raptors. The owls are seen late in the afternoon, and at dusk, as night descends on them. Harriers tilt from side to side, for better control in the wind, as they soar.
Birds have a variety of ways of flying, all of which are interesting, and some are like poetry in the sky. We only have to go outside, most anywhere, to enjoy seeing the inspiring beauty of birds in flight.
All birds take off into the wind for lift. The front edges of their wings are shaped to allow wind to push from under each wing for that lift. And birds descend to water, ground, tree limbs and other objects into the wind for flight control.
But different kinds of birds have different ways of flying, depending on their size, shape, weight and other factors. Some birds are power fliers. Others soar a lot, while some regularly hover into the wind. And still others have a buoyant flight.
Canada geese, other types of geese and ducks are swift power fliers, with steady series of deep, downward strokes. Some species of geese fly in lines and V's to better slip through the air. Lead birds push the air away, allowing following birds easier passage through it.
Several kinds of birds in southeastern Pennsylvania, as elsewhere, including ring-billed gulls, red-tailed hawks, broad-winged hawks and turkey vultures, soar and wheel leisurely on high, with little effort, creating inspiring, entertaining spectacles in the sky. Ring-bills and broad-wings are particularly light and dainty in flight. And they swirl and circle in large groups in rising columns of sun-warmed air called thermals, the gulls over sources of food and the broadies during September when they migrate south, in groups, to northern South America to escape the food scarcity of winter in the northern hemisphere.
Red-tailed hawks are majestic soaring on the wind. They float buoyantly on stretched-flat wings for extended periods of time without once beating their wings, which saves them much energy. Adult red-tails have bright orange tails which are visible from below when those birds turn on the wind. But turkey vultures are the most elegant of soaring birds in the sky. They float gracefully on the wind and thermals for hours with barely a wing beat, saving lots of energy, as they search for carrion on the ground to eat. Turkey vultures are large and dark, and hold the tips of their wings upward, which aids in identifying them in the air. But the biggest help in identifying these vultures is their habit of tipping from side to side for better flight control.
American kestrels, rough-legged hawks, belted kingfishers and ring-billed gulls, all of which winter in southeastern Pennsylvania, are good at hovering gracefully, on rapidly beating wings, into the wind as they watch one spot below for food. Kestrels and rough-legs hover over fields and roadside edges during winter in their quest for mice. Kingfishers and ring-bills helicopter over water as they watch for small fish and other aquatic critters to consume. But if no victims are spotted, each bird flies on and hovers someplace else, and, again, someplace else. All these birds are entertaining and interesting to study hovering, then dropping swiftly to land or water to snare prey animals.
Short-eared owls, and northern harriers, which are a kind of hawk, work hard low to the ground to catch mice and small birds in grassy, open habitats. Though in different families of birds, these species are similar in hunting techniques because they share the same habitat- grasslands with few if any trees. Few perches are in those habitats so these birds are obliged to course back and forth, slowly and buoyantly, low to the ground, into the wind to watch and listen for prey. Each species alternately flaps and soars, with lots of turns, skimming swoops and dives into the grass after prey. Sometimes there are a few of one species or the other in a field. And, sometimes, there are mixed groups of these two species of raptors. The owls are seen late in the afternoon, and at dusk, as night descends on them. Harriers tilt from side to side, for better control in the wind, as they soar.
Birds have a variety of ways of flying, all of which are interesting, and some are like poetry in the sky. We only have to go outside, most anywhere, to enjoy seeing the inspiring beauty of birds in flight.
Thursday, January 18, 2018
Winter Along Mill Creek
For two hours each afternoon on January sixteenth and January seventeenth of this month, I drove through farmland to various places along Mill Creek in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania to see what wildlife was evident. I did the second tour because snow fell during the morning of the seventeenth and I wanted to see again what affect it had on wildlife.
On the sixteenth, I saw many rock pigeons perched on the tops of several silos in barn yards, which is their customary resting places. Pigeons are beautiful birds originally from Eurasia. They were brought to the United States as domestic birds, but many pigeons escaped and became feral. Today flocks of wild pigeons in Lancaster County eat corn kernels and other grains and weed and grass seeds in the fields. And they roost and raise young in silos and barns, under bridges, and on stone quarry walls, all of which are human-made structures. They are a major part of Lancaster County's farmland.
Adult pigeons are preyed on by Cooper's hawks and peregrine falcons. And some of their eggs and small young are eaten by American crows, black vultures and other predatory creatures.
Driving on during the first afternoon, I noticed a couple hundred Canada geese in a harvested corn field near Mill Creek, where they were ingesting corn kernels lying on the ground. I know from past experience that these geese winter on a slow stretch of Mill Creek, but fly up into the wind for lift from the water, flock after honking flock, to feed in nearby harvested corn fields. A few minutes later, group after bugling group of geese float down to the fields, into the wind for better flight control. When full of food, the Canadas fly back to Mill Creek, using the same flight patterns.
That same afternoon, I saw several mixed groups of mallard ducks and black ducks resting here and there on Mill Creek, as they do on other waterways and impoundments. They fly out on whistling wings from the creek, group after group, into the wind for lift, to corn fields to shovel up corn kernels lying in the fields. Later they wing back to their water refuge to rest and digest.
I also saw a few other kinds of water-loving creatures along Mill Creek, including a great blue heron, a male belted kingfisher and three muskrats. The heron and kingfisher were along the creek to catch fish, but the muskrats live in stream bank burrows they dig themselves along Mill Creek and consume grass and other vegetation in bordering pastures.
Not surprisingly, on the first trip I saw four pairs of stately red-tailed hawks, each pair perched together in its own clump of trees in the cropland I was driving through. January is the start of the red-tails' nesting season and these pairs were getting ready to court and raise families this spring. I saw a couple of mixed gatherings of small birds in thickets along Mill Creek. A song sparrow and a pair of northern cardinals were snuggled into one patch of shrubs and weeds and a song sparrow, three or four cardinals and a few each of dark-eyed juncos and white-throated sparrows were in the other clump of bushes and weeds. All those birds could find weed and grass seeds to eat among the sheltering shrubbery. And the song sparrows, as their kind does, could hop along the creek's shores to find and consume invertebrates.
Two blue jays in a lone tree at the end of a harvested corn field were of interest. They perched in the tree, but took turns dropping to the corn field, presumably to eat corn kernels. Jays are mostly woodland birds, but here was two of them feeding in a wide open habitat.
On the seventeenth, I saw several flocks of horned larks that amounted to a few thousand individual birds in farmland harvested to the ground near Mill Creek. Those larks were eating bits of corn off the ground where wind blew the two inch cover of snow away. And they were consuming chewed corn from manure spread on top of the snow. As usual, the day before, when no snow covered the soil, I saw no horned larks. They were in the fields, but invisible against the ground and corn stubble. Snow makes them stand out.
And on the second afternoon, I saw a few more kinds of wintering birds, here and there along Mill Creek, that I didn't see the first day, including four Wilson's snipe, two American pipits, one killdeer plover and one winter wren. Locally wintering snipe inhabit the edges of smaller waterways in cow pastures where they poke their long beaks into mud under shallow water to bring up and ingest invertebrates. But they are not always seen because they are so well camouflaged. Snow makes them more visible, however.
The pipits and killdeer were chased out of nearby fields because the snow buried their food. Those two species of birds joined snipe along a section of Mill Creek where they searched for invertebrates on the muddy shores until snow melts in the meadows.
The winter wren skulked among the roots of trees and shrubs along the edge of Mill Creek. It was searching for invertebrates to eat.
It was interesting to compare the birds seen on those two, back-to-back afternoons along Mill Creek in Lancaster County farmland. Readers can do the same; just get out and look, most anywhere and most anytime.
On the sixteenth, I saw many rock pigeons perched on the tops of several silos in barn yards, which is their customary resting places. Pigeons are beautiful birds originally from Eurasia. They were brought to the United States as domestic birds, but many pigeons escaped and became feral. Today flocks of wild pigeons in Lancaster County eat corn kernels and other grains and weed and grass seeds in the fields. And they roost and raise young in silos and barns, under bridges, and on stone quarry walls, all of which are human-made structures. They are a major part of Lancaster County's farmland.
Adult pigeons are preyed on by Cooper's hawks and peregrine falcons. And some of their eggs and small young are eaten by American crows, black vultures and other predatory creatures.
Driving on during the first afternoon, I noticed a couple hundred Canada geese in a harvested corn field near Mill Creek, where they were ingesting corn kernels lying on the ground. I know from past experience that these geese winter on a slow stretch of Mill Creek, but fly up into the wind for lift from the water, flock after honking flock, to feed in nearby harvested corn fields. A few minutes later, group after bugling group of geese float down to the fields, into the wind for better flight control. When full of food, the Canadas fly back to Mill Creek, using the same flight patterns.
That same afternoon, I saw several mixed groups of mallard ducks and black ducks resting here and there on Mill Creek, as they do on other waterways and impoundments. They fly out on whistling wings from the creek, group after group, into the wind for lift, to corn fields to shovel up corn kernels lying in the fields. Later they wing back to their water refuge to rest and digest.
I also saw a few other kinds of water-loving creatures along Mill Creek, including a great blue heron, a male belted kingfisher and three muskrats. The heron and kingfisher were along the creek to catch fish, but the muskrats live in stream bank burrows they dig themselves along Mill Creek and consume grass and other vegetation in bordering pastures.
Not surprisingly, on the first trip I saw four pairs of stately red-tailed hawks, each pair perched together in its own clump of trees in the cropland I was driving through. January is the start of the red-tails' nesting season and these pairs were getting ready to court and raise families this spring. I saw a couple of mixed gatherings of small birds in thickets along Mill Creek. A song sparrow and a pair of northern cardinals were snuggled into one patch of shrubs and weeds and a song sparrow, three or four cardinals and a few each of dark-eyed juncos and white-throated sparrows were in the other clump of bushes and weeds. All those birds could find weed and grass seeds to eat among the sheltering shrubbery. And the song sparrows, as their kind does, could hop along the creek's shores to find and consume invertebrates.
Two blue jays in a lone tree at the end of a harvested corn field were of interest. They perched in the tree, but took turns dropping to the corn field, presumably to eat corn kernels. Jays are mostly woodland birds, but here was two of them feeding in a wide open habitat.
On the seventeenth, I saw several flocks of horned larks that amounted to a few thousand individual birds in farmland harvested to the ground near Mill Creek. Those larks were eating bits of corn off the ground where wind blew the two inch cover of snow away. And they were consuming chewed corn from manure spread on top of the snow. As usual, the day before, when no snow covered the soil, I saw no horned larks. They were in the fields, but invisible against the ground and corn stubble. Snow makes them stand out.
And on the second afternoon, I saw a few more kinds of wintering birds, here and there along Mill Creek, that I didn't see the first day, including four Wilson's snipe, two American pipits, one killdeer plover and one winter wren. Locally wintering snipe inhabit the edges of smaller waterways in cow pastures where they poke their long beaks into mud under shallow water to bring up and ingest invertebrates. But they are not always seen because they are so well camouflaged. Snow makes them more visible, however.
The pipits and killdeer were chased out of nearby fields because the snow buried their food. Those two species of birds joined snipe along a section of Mill Creek where they searched for invertebrates on the muddy shores until snow melts in the meadows.
The winter wren skulked among the roots of trees and shrubs along the edge of Mill Creek. It was searching for invertebrates to eat.
It was interesting to compare the birds seen on those two, back-to-back afternoons along Mill Creek in Lancaster County farmland. Readers can do the same; just get out and look, most anywhere and most anytime.
Sunday, January 14, 2018
Lemming Influence Come South
Lemmings are mouse-like critters, but a bit larger, that live on the Arctic tundra and have a four year life cycle of abundance and scarcity. Tundra-dwelling snowy owls prey heavily on lemmings, including to feed their owlets during the short Arctic summers. And, about every four years, some snowy owls, especially birds that hatched the past spring, drift south through Canada during October and November to winter in the northern United States where they hunt mice, rats and other prey. Why every four years? Because lemming populations peak about every four years and the zenith of that rodent's population, and the crash in lemming numbers soon after that climax drives snowy owl invasions south.
There was a big irruption of snowies into the northern United States during the winter of 2013-2014. That winter there were 7 snowy owls in Delaware, including along Delaware Bay, 4 in Maryland, 14 in New Jersey, including in salt marshes along the coast and a whopping 35 snowies in Pennsylvania, for example. And now in 2017-2018, so far, many snowy owls are in the northcentral part of the United States, including in Ohio, Indiana and the Great Lakes area.
When male snowy owls court their life-long mates each spring, they offer their partners gifts of lemmings to eat as part of their courtships. The more lemmings male snowies give their mates, the more eggs those females will lay, up to eight or nine in each clutch, instead of the usual three or four per brood. But, if lemmings are scarce, male snowy owls consume all the lemmings they catch and offer no presents to their mates. Female snowies lay no eggs that year, which is good because there would be few lemmings to feed young owls that summer. But as the lemming population builds on the tundra each year, so do snowy owl numbers. Then lemming numbers crash, with few of the rodents being caught by snowies. Then many of the young owls drift south for the winter to hunt prey, and we say an irruption of snowy owls is occurring.
During the winter of 2013-2014, three or four snowy owls were in the wide open, harvested-to-the-ground cropland around New Holland, Pennsylvania. I suspect that open country, with few trees and fewer hedgerows, reminded the owls of the tundra where they were born.
We could see them sitting majestically on top of the snow cover in the cold, windy fields, usually fairly close to the rural roads where good looks at the owls could be had through binoculars and scopes. Most of the time, each owl would just sit there staring back with squinted, yellow eyes at the gathering of people watching them. One snowy owl, however, was feeding on a dead snow goose near a road. I don't know if the owl killed the goose itself, or if it was scavenging the dead body. Two things for certain, however, many noisy snow geese had been in those fields the day before. And snowy owls are capable of killing snow geese.
It is estimated that there are about 30,000 snowy owls on the tundras of North America and Eurasia. They do have an interesting life history, particularly with their irruptions south for the winter about every four years. And they are magnificent birds; the biggest owls in North America.
There was a big irruption of snowies into the northern United States during the winter of 2013-2014. That winter there were 7 snowy owls in Delaware, including along Delaware Bay, 4 in Maryland, 14 in New Jersey, including in salt marshes along the coast and a whopping 35 snowies in Pennsylvania, for example. And now in 2017-2018, so far, many snowy owls are in the northcentral part of the United States, including in Ohio, Indiana and the Great Lakes area.
When male snowy owls court their life-long mates each spring, they offer their partners gifts of lemmings to eat as part of their courtships. The more lemmings male snowies give their mates, the more eggs those females will lay, up to eight or nine in each clutch, instead of the usual three or four per brood. But, if lemmings are scarce, male snowy owls consume all the lemmings they catch and offer no presents to their mates. Female snowies lay no eggs that year, which is good because there would be few lemmings to feed young owls that summer. But as the lemming population builds on the tundra each year, so do snowy owl numbers. Then lemming numbers crash, with few of the rodents being caught by snowies. Then many of the young owls drift south for the winter to hunt prey, and we say an irruption of snowy owls is occurring.
During the winter of 2013-2014, three or four snowy owls were in the wide open, harvested-to-the-ground cropland around New Holland, Pennsylvania. I suspect that open country, with few trees and fewer hedgerows, reminded the owls of the tundra where they were born.
We could see them sitting majestically on top of the snow cover in the cold, windy fields, usually fairly close to the rural roads where good looks at the owls could be had through binoculars and scopes. Most of the time, each owl would just sit there staring back with squinted, yellow eyes at the gathering of people watching them. One snowy owl, however, was feeding on a dead snow goose near a road. I don't know if the owl killed the goose itself, or if it was scavenging the dead body. Two things for certain, however, many noisy snow geese had been in those fields the day before. And snowy owls are capable of killing snow geese.
It is estimated that there are about 30,000 snowy owls on the tundras of North America and Eurasia. They do have an interesting life history, particularly with their irruptions south for the winter about every four years. And they are magnificent birds; the biggest owls in North America.
Friday, January 12, 2018
Open Water in Winter
During a severe cold snap early this January, most waterways and impoundments in southeastern Pennsylvania were frozen shut. But a few, perhaps spring-fed ponds, and flowing waterways had places of open water in spite of the frigid temperatures. Waterfowl, particularly many hundreds of Canada geese and scores of mallard ducks, both common and adaptable species, congregated on the open water that was left, even in spots where they usually are not seen. Many of those geese and ducks floated and swam on those waters surrounded by ice, while others of their two species stood or sat on the ice around the open water.
In my travels around Lancaster County in Pennsylvania, I saw a few places where Canada geese and mallard ducks gathered on the open water that remained. All those places were along roadways and could be seen by anyone who looked, even casually, at the countryside as they walked or road along.
The first open water I noticed in my travels was a hundred yard stretch of gently flowing water in the middle of the Conestoga River where it closely parallels a rural road. The Conestoga is a small river, allowing close-up views of any water birds on it. Many hundreds of handsome Canada geese were resting and digesting on the water and on the bordering ice. Those geese were noisy with their constant honking. But when they become hungry, the geese will leave the water and ice, flock after bugling flock in their excitement, to fly out to a meadow to graze on grass or a harvested corn field to pick up kernels of corn from the ground. And when full, the geese will lift off, group after group, and fly back to that same part of the Conestoga that has open water to land on.
I also came upon an open pond with about 20 beautiful mallard ducks on it, each gender attractive in its own way. This pond might be spring-fed with water from the warmer ground, thus not allowing that water to freeze. Many of the mallards were already paired and engaged in courting activities, which strengthen the bonding of each pair. But, like the geese, when those ducks become hungry, off they go on whistling wings to corn fields to eat corn kernels.
There is a stream in an overgrown pasture near my home in New Holland where up to 60 mallards often congregate in winter. But this January that slow-moving part of the stream froze shut. I saw many of those pretty mallards on another, running section of that stream, surrounded by thickets, where I had never seen them before.
But the most interesting place I noticed lots of waterfowl during the deep freeze was in a 40 yard by 20 yard patch of open water surrounded by ice on a frozen lake. A couple thousand Canada geese, three cackling geese, around 60 mallards, a couple dozen black ducks and eight common mergansers were crowded together on that water, and the ice around it, all near the road I was on. Cold wind poured across the lake and over those birds that had only their feather blankets to protect them. Some geese and ducks swam and bathed in the water, while others of each kind walked across the ice, or sat on it to rest, amid unending honking from the geese. The mergansers dove under water to catch small fish. I've seen and heard these beautiful water birds many times before, but I never tire of experiencing them, including these so close to me.
Suddenly, a magnificent adult bald eagle soared over the geese and ducks and swooped low toward them, causing ducks on the ice to fly, all at once, to the open water where they could dive under if they had to. But after a few low, raking passes over the waterfowl, the eagle soared away without catching any ducks or geese.
Meanwhile, many Canada geese were feeding on short grass on the large lawn of a tree-studded golf course bordering the nearly frozen-shut lake. The geese merely take off from the lake, fly over a row of tall white pine trees edging that impoundment, and sail down to the golf course lawn. The Canadas, mallards and black ducks also feed on corn kernels in harvested fields.
It's interesting to watch the adaptable geese and ducks shift around to find the open water where they feel most safe from predators. Nature is dynamic. There's always something new and intriguing to experience.
In my travels around Lancaster County in Pennsylvania, I saw a few places where Canada geese and mallard ducks gathered on the open water that remained. All those places were along roadways and could be seen by anyone who looked, even casually, at the countryside as they walked or road along.
The first open water I noticed in my travels was a hundred yard stretch of gently flowing water in the middle of the Conestoga River where it closely parallels a rural road. The Conestoga is a small river, allowing close-up views of any water birds on it. Many hundreds of handsome Canada geese were resting and digesting on the water and on the bordering ice. Those geese were noisy with their constant honking. But when they become hungry, the geese will leave the water and ice, flock after bugling flock in their excitement, to fly out to a meadow to graze on grass or a harvested corn field to pick up kernels of corn from the ground. And when full, the geese will lift off, group after group, and fly back to that same part of the Conestoga that has open water to land on.
I also came upon an open pond with about 20 beautiful mallard ducks on it, each gender attractive in its own way. This pond might be spring-fed with water from the warmer ground, thus not allowing that water to freeze. Many of the mallards were already paired and engaged in courting activities, which strengthen the bonding of each pair. But, like the geese, when those ducks become hungry, off they go on whistling wings to corn fields to eat corn kernels.
There is a stream in an overgrown pasture near my home in New Holland where up to 60 mallards often congregate in winter. But this January that slow-moving part of the stream froze shut. I saw many of those pretty mallards on another, running section of that stream, surrounded by thickets, where I had never seen them before.
But the most interesting place I noticed lots of waterfowl during the deep freeze was in a 40 yard by 20 yard patch of open water surrounded by ice on a frozen lake. A couple thousand Canada geese, three cackling geese, around 60 mallards, a couple dozen black ducks and eight common mergansers were crowded together on that water, and the ice around it, all near the road I was on. Cold wind poured across the lake and over those birds that had only their feather blankets to protect them. Some geese and ducks swam and bathed in the water, while others of each kind walked across the ice, or sat on it to rest, amid unending honking from the geese. The mergansers dove under water to catch small fish. I've seen and heard these beautiful water birds many times before, but I never tire of experiencing them, including these so close to me.
Suddenly, a magnificent adult bald eagle soared over the geese and ducks and swooped low toward them, causing ducks on the ice to fly, all at once, to the open water where they could dive under if they had to. But after a few low, raking passes over the waterfowl, the eagle soared away without catching any ducks or geese.
Meanwhile, many Canada geese were feeding on short grass on the large lawn of a tree-studded golf course bordering the nearly frozen-shut lake. The geese merely take off from the lake, fly over a row of tall white pine trees edging that impoundment, and sail down to the golf course lawn. The Canadas, mallards and black ducks also feed on corn kernels in harvested fields.
It's interesting to watch the adaptable geese and ducks shift around to find the open water where they feel most safe from predators. Nature is dynamic. There's always something new and intriguing to experience.
Monday, January 8, 2018
Escaping Winter's Cold
With the extreme cold of the first week in January, 2018, I again wondered how wildlife in southeastern Pennsylvania, as elsewhere, was finding shelter from that cold. I remember seeing critters, including mallard ducks and white-tailed deer huddling on the sunny side of stone walls and wooded slopes. Some kinds of birds, including mourning doves, dark-eyed juncos and certain kinds of hawks and owls, "hole up" in densely needled spruce trees to avoid cold wind, the owls by day. I have stepped into patches of half-grown spruces and noticed they block the wind quite well, making me feel warmer in those clumps of conifers. Other species of birds here retreat to abandoned woodpecker holes and other tree hollows to avoid winter's cold. They include two types of chickadees, tufted titmice, white breasted nuthatches, eastern bluebirds, American kestrels and screech owls.
Several kinds of winter-active mammals also escape from winter's cold. Eastern moles and star-nosed moles are protected in their underground tunnels, while short-tailed shrews hunt mice and invertebrates under carpets of fallen leaves. Long-tailed weasels live and hunt mice in crevices in wood piles, brush heaps and rock walls, while little brown bats sleep in caves, barns and other sheltering places. And cottontail rabbits, striped skunks, opossums and raccoons crawl into deserted wood chuck holes, hollow logs, brush piles, tree cavities and under outdoor sheds on lawns to get away from the cold.
But rodents have the most fascinating ways of staying out of cold, winter winds. Gray squirrels are the most obvious of their family because they live in forests, wood lots and older suburban areas and parks with their many tall trees. Gray squirrels have two kinds of homes- tree cavities and basketball-sized structures they make themselves of twigs and dead leaves and place in forks of twigs for support. Both shelters, which are easily seen in bare deciduous trees in winter, provide insulation against cold winds.
The nocturnal flying squirrels also live in tree cavities, and attics in cabins and houses in the woods. There they have protection from cold winds during the day.
Wood chucks and eastern chipmunks spend the whole winter in their underground burrows. Chucks dig out their own homes that has a few exits so those big ground squirrels don't get trapped by predators in their own tunnels. Chucks put on much weight by eating lots of vegetation during summer and autumn and live off their fat through their long winter's sleep in their underground dens.
Chipmunks live in underground dens, and, in fall, store many nuts and seeds in their homes to consume through winter. Each chippie sleeps in a chamber, but awakens frequently to ingest nuts and seeds in a storage room, then goes back to sleep in its slumber room.
Two kinds of mice, deer mice and field mice, or field voles, make simple shelters that protect them from the elements. Some deer mice live in tree cavities, but others of that lovely species of mouse build roofs of chewed grass and thistle and milkweed down on abandoned birds' nests in shrubbery. Each mouse chews a hole in the side of its former bird nursery for an entrance. Both kinds of shelters are well insulated.
Field voles chew dried grass to make nests on the ground at the base of tall grass in meadows, fields and along rural roadsides. These mice move about through tunnels of chewed grass under snow covers, which protect them from predators and the elements. But when the snow melts, those networks of vole tunnels are visible, and the voles are more exposed.
Muskrats make two types of homes, depending on where they live. They pile up cattail stalks in shallow ponds to live in. And they dig burrow entrances at the usual water line of streams and tunnel up to dry, insulated living chambers in streambanks. Mink kill and eat some muskrats and live in the homes of their victims.
Beavers also make two kinds of homes, log and limb ones heaped on mud platforms in the middle of ponds they created by damming streams, and burrows they dig into streambanks at the normal water level of creeks and rivers. Those beaver homes, like those of many rodents, protect them from predators and the elements, particularly in winter.
Many kinds of birds and mammals, especially rodents, have ways to insulate themselves from winter's cold and other potential problems. These are just part of the ways wildlife sustains their lives during adverse conditions.
Several kinds of winter-active mammals also escape from winter's cold. Eastern moles and star-nosed moles are protected in their underground tunnels, while short-tailed shrews hunt mice and invertebrates under carpets of fallen leaves. Long-tailed weasels live and hunt mice in crevices in wood piles, brush heaps and rock walls, while little brown bats sleep in caves, barns and other sheltering places. And cottontail rabbits, striped skunks, opossums and raccoons crawl into deserted wood chuck holes, hollow logs, brush piles, tree cavities and under outdoor sheds on lawns to get away from the cold.
But rodents have the most fascinating ways of staying out of cold, winter winds. Gray squirrels are the most obvious of their family because they live in forests, wood lots and older suburban areas and parks with their many tall trees. Gray squirrels have two kinds of homes- tree cavities and basketball-sized structures they make themselves of twigs and dead leaves and place in forks of twigs for support. Both shelters, which are easily seen in bare deciduous trees in winter, provide insulation against cold winds.
The nocturnal flying squirrels also live in tree cavities, and attics in cabins and houses in the woods. There they have protection from cold winds during the day.
Wood chucks and eastern chipmunks spend the whole winter in their underground burrows. Chucks dig out their own homes that has a few exits so those big ground squirrels don't get trapped by predators in their own tunnels. Chucks put on much weight by eating lots of vegetation during summer and autumn and live off their fat through their long winter's sleep in their underground dens.
Chipmunks live in underground dens, and, in fall, store many nuts and seeds in their homes to consume through winter. Each chippie sleeps in a chamber, but awakens frequently to ingest nuts and seeds in a storage room, then goes back to sleep in its slumber room.
Two kinds of mice, deer mice and field mice, or field voles, make simple shelters that protect them from the elements. Some deer mice live in tree cavities, but others of that lovely species of mouse build roofs of chewed grass and thistle and milkweed down on abandoned birds' nests in shrubbery. Each mouse chews a hole in the side of its former bird nursery for an entrance. Both kinds of shelters are well insulated.
Field voles chew dried grass to make nests on the ground at the base of tall grass in meadows, fields and along rural roadsides. These mice move about through tunnels of chewed grass under snow covers, which protect them from predators and the elements. But when the snow melts, those networks of vole tunnels are visible, and the voles are more exposed.
Muskrats make two types of homes, depending on where they live. They pile up cattail stalks in shallow ponds to live in. And they dig burrow entrances at the usual water line of streams and tunnel up to dry, insulated living chambers in streambanks. Mink kill and eat some muskrats and live in the homes of their victims.
Beavers also make two kinds of homes, log and limb ones heaped on mud platforms in the middle of ponds they created by damming streams, and burrows they dig into streambanks at the normal water level of creeks and rivers. Those beaver homes, like those of many rodents, protect them from predators and the elements, particularly in winter.
Many kinds of birds and mammals, especially rodents, have ways to insulate themselves from winter's cold and other potential problems. These are just part of the ways wildlife sustains their lives during adverse conditions.
Thursday, January 4, 2018
Farmland Beauties in January
On January 2, 2018, I drove around in farmland east of New Holland, Pennsylvania, stopping here and there to see what wildlife was evident. I started my trip around 2:30 PM and ended it close to 6:30 that evening. The day was clear and sunny, but cold, with an inch of snow on the ground.
During that trip, I saw one or two flocks each of a few kinds of birds, including loudly honking Canada geese taking off from an ice-free, slow-flowing creek to fly out to a harvested corn field to consume corn kernels lying on the ground beneath the snow cover. I noted a couple groups of rock pigeons circling two different barnyards before landing on top of silos, which is one of their roosting places between feeding forays in harvested corn fields. I saw a few rows of starlings perched on roadside wires between their feeding times. The pigeons and starlings, both species originally from Europe, rest, and digest grain, while on their roosts. And I watched a little flock of about a dozen white-throated sparrows scratching among dead leaves on the floor of a woodland edge for weed and grass seeds, and invertebrates. Obviously, all these bird species spend the bulk of each winter day foraging for food.
I also saw a few individuals of other types of birds on my ride in the countryside. A few American crows were here and there in corn fields to eat corn kernels or in the air as they flew from one feeding place to another. A couple pairs of mourning doves were perched on roadside wires between feeding forays in corn fields. I noticed a red-tailed hawk soaring on high as it watched for gray squirrels and other rodents to catch and eat. And I saw about a half-dozen each of turkey vultures and black vultures circling low as they were either coming down to consume a dead animal or going to roost for the night.
My last stop was about 4:30 PM in a public park along the Conestoga River, which is about the size of a stream near its headwaters. And that slow flowing waterway was not frozen, as are local impoundments.
I saw a couple of gray squirrels foraging for acorns in the woods of the park when I first drove into it. I parked along the Conestoga and stayed in my car to avoid the cold. The sunset was a brilliant-red in the western sky in front of me and silhouetted the trees. Soon a great blue heron flew low upstream and landed by a large sycamore tree on the waterway's bank. And there that heron stayed, huddled and standing on one leg in the shallow water, presumably through the night.
From my car window, I noticed the unmistakable tracks of a cottontail rabbit in the snow just off the parking lot. Squirrels and rabbits in this park need to be wary because of the red-tailed hawks, great horned owls and red foxes that include the park in their hunting territories.
I saw a muskrat swimming steadily upstream in the Conestoga, apparently on a mission. And with my binoculars, I noticed five black ducks farther upstream. But by 5:10 PM, those ducks took off from the water to feed on corn in nearby fields.
About 5:15 PM, as dusk deepened and I was about to leave the park, I saw a red fox trotting across a snow-covered meadow in the park. I knew it was a red fox because of its silhouetted shape, size, demeanor, and because January is the time of love among red foxes, a time when they throw caution to the wind.
I meandered home into the red sunset that continued to fade until the sky was dark in the west around 5:40 that evening. I parked and waited for the nearly full moon to rise from the eastern horizon, which it did, large and pale-orange, a little after 6:00 PM. And I watched the moon gradually become smaller and white as it "rose" behind a clump of trees. The landscape became almost as light as day with moonlight bouncing off the snow cover on the ground.
There was no single, extraordinary part of nature seen that cold, sunny day. But everything I saw; the wildlife, snow, sunset, and moon glow shining on the snow made it a beautiful, interesting day. Anyone can experience the beauties and intrigues of nature most anytime. One just has to get out and look for it.
During that trip, I saw one or two flocks each of a few kinds of birds, including loudly honking Canada geese taking off from an ice-free, slow-flowing creek to fly out to a harvested corn field to consume corn kernels lying on the ground beneath the snow cover. I noted a couple groups of rock pigeons circling two different barnyards before landing on top of silos, which is one of their roosting places between feeding forays in harvested corn fields. I saw a few rows of starlings perched on roadside wires between their feeding times. The pigeons and starlings, both species originally from Europe, rest, and digest grain, while on their roosts. And I watched a little flock of about a dozen white-throated sparrows scratching among dead leaves on the floor of a woodland edge for weed and grass seeds, and invertebrates. Obviously, all these bird species spend the bulk of each winter day foraging for food.
I also saw a few individuals of other types of birds on my ride in the countryside. A few American crows were here and there in corn fields to eat corn kernels or in the air as they flew from one feeding place to another. A couple pairs of mourning doves were perched on roadside wires between feeding forays in corn fields. I noticed a red-tailed hawk soaring on high as it watched for gray squirrels and other rodents to catch and eat. And I saw about a half-dozen each of turkey vultures and black vultures circling low as they were either coming down to consume a dead animal or going to roost for the night.
My last stop was about 4:30 PM in a public park along the Conestoga River, which is about the size of a stream near its headwaters. And that slow flowing waterway was not frozen, as are local impoundments.
I saw a couple of gray squirrels foraging for acorns in the woods of the park when I first drove into it. I parked along the Conestoga and stayed in my car to avoid the cold. The sunset was a brilliant-red in the western sky in front of me and silhouetted the trees. Soon a great blue heron flew low upstream and landed by a large sycamore tree on the waterway's bank. And there that heron stayed, huddled and standing on one leg in the shallow water, presumably through the night.
From my car window, I noticed the unmistakable tracks of a cottontail rabbit in the snow just off the parking lot. Squirrels and rabbits in this park need to be wary because of the red-tailed hawks, great horned owls and red foxes that include the park in their hunting territories.
I saw a muskrat swimming steadily upstream in the Conestoga, apparently on a mission. And with my binoculars, I noticed five black ducks farther upstream. But by 5:10 PM, those ducks took off from the water to feed on corn in nearby fields.
About 5:15 PM, as dusk deepened and I was about to leave the park, I saw a red fox trotting across a snow-covered meadow in the park. I knew it was a red fox because of its silhouetted shape, size, demeanor, and because January is the time of love among red foxes, a time when they throw caution to the wind.
I meandered home into the red sunset that continued to fade until the sky was dark in the west around 5:40 that evening. I parked and waited for the nearly full moon to rise from the eastern horizon, which it did, large and pale-orange, a little after 6:00 PM. And I watched the moon gradually become smaller and white as it "rose" behind a clump of trees. The landscape became almost as light as day with moonlight bouncing off the snow cover on the ground.
There was no single, extraordinary part of nature seen that cold, sunny day. But everything I saw; the wildlife, snow, sunset, and moon glow shining on the snow made it a beautiful, interesting day. Anyone can experience the beauties and intrigues of nature most anytime. One just has to get out and look for it.
Monday, January 1, 2018
American Hollies and Winterberries
The related American holly trees and winterberry bushes have characteristics in common. Both species are native to the eastern United States. Females of both kinds have many beautiful, decorative, red berries through each winter, the season when both these species are most attractive because of their scarlet berries. And each individual of both types of woody plants is either a male or a female, but not both genders in the same plant. At least one male plant of each type must be near enough to female plants of its kind for wind and insects to able to pollinate female flowers so they can produce berries. Neither kind of holly is common in the wild here in southeastern Pennsylvania, but both are fairly commonly planted here.
American hollies grow to be tall, single-trunk trees. They are common in the woods of Maryland and Delaware and farther south, and wild in limited numbers on the bottomlands and islands of the lower Susquehanna River. Each of their thick, two-inch-long leaves has at least a few sharp prickles on its wavy margin and remains green on its twig through the year, which is unusual for a non-coniferous tree. Their striking red berries in winter are in lovely contrast to their green foliage, which makes this a lovely tree species in winter, especially when snow is piled on the twigs and foliage of each tree.
Wild winterberry shrubs, also known as deciduous hollies because of their losing their inch-long, lean leaves each autumn, inhabit wooded bottomlands with moist soil. Some damp woods harbor several female winterberries, each one loaded with many scarlet berries that glow like flames in the gray woods of winter. Winterberry shrubs in some woodlands are associates of native spicebushes, and alien barberries and burning bushes, all of which have red berries as well.
Winterberry shrubs are planted on lawns because of the many striking, red berries on each female plant. Those multitudes of scarlet berries add much beauty and interest to many suburban lawns through winter.
The berries of these related hollies are green as they grow, but turn red as they mature in fall, as do the berries of many other kinds of plants. Adding their beauties to those of red berries, a variety of berry-eating birds, including northern mockingbirds, starlings, American robins and cedar waxwings, easily see red berries among green foliage, which benefits both the birds and the vegetation that grows red berries. Each mockingbird tries to keep a patch of berries for itself, which includes trying to chase away flocks of other species from "its berries". Each mocker repeatedly dives at other birds to bluff them away from the berries, which is interesting to watch.
Meanwhile, berry-eating birds of various kinds ingest the strikingly red berries, digest the pulp of each one, but pass the berries' seeds in droppings, including those of American hollies and winterberries, as they fly about the countryside. The birds get nutrition and the hollies get spread across the land, which increases their numbers and their success as species. Several American holly seedlings have sprung up on our lawn over the years. And the birds guarantee part of their berry food supply into the future.
Mysteriously, bird species sometimes don't consume holly berries until late in winter and into early spring, such as robins passing through here on migration early in March. Berries of other plants are consumed before those on hollies. Therefore, many pretty holly berries last all winter, much to our enjoyment. But holly berries provide nourishment when the supplies of other berries are exhausted and many birds need it most.
There is much beauty in the red berries of female American hollies and winterberries, whether they are wild or planted. The evergreen foliage of holly trees is also a lovely contrast with the scarlet berries on them. And birds attracted to the hollies to consume their lovely berries in winter and early spring add their beauties to those of the plants. Study hollies a bit more closely to experience their beauties and that of the birds that ingest their fruits.
American hollies grow to be tall, single-trunk trees. They are common in the woods of Maryland and Delaware and farther south, and wild in limited numbers on the bottomlands and islands of the lower Susquehanna River. Each of their thick, two-inch-long leaves has at least a few sharp prickles on its wavy margin and remains green on its twig through the year, which is unusual for a non-coniferous tree. Their striking red berries in winter are in lovely contrast to their green foliage, which makes this a lovely tree species in winter, especially when snow is piled on the twigs and foliage of each tree.
Wild winterberry shrubs, also known as deciduous hollies because of their losing their inch-long, lean leaves each autumn, inhabit wooded bottomlands with moist soil. Some damp woods harbor several female winterberries, each one loaded with many scarlet berries that glow like flames in the gray woods of winter. Winterberry shrubs in some woodlands are associates of native spicebushes, and alien barberries and burning bushes, all of which have red berries as well.
Winterberry shrubs are planted on lawns because of the many striking, red berries on each female plant. Those multitudes of scarlet berries add much beauty and interest to many suburban lawns through winter.
The berries of these related hollies are green as they grow, but turn red as they mature in fall, as do the berries of many other kinds of plants. Adding their beauties to those of red berries, a variety of berry-eating birds, including northern mockingbirds, starlings, American robins and cedar waxwings, easily see red berries among green foliage, which benefits both the birds and the vegetation that grows red berries. Each mockingbird tries to keep a patch of berries for itself, which includes trying to chase away flocks of other species from "its berries". Each mocker repeatedly dives at other birds to bluff them away from the berries, which is interesting to watch.
Meanwhile, berry-eating birds of various kinds ingest the strikingly red berries, digest the pulp of each one, but pass the berries' seeds in droppings, including those of American hollies and winterberries, as they fly about the countryside. The birds get nutrition and the hollies get spread across the land, which increases their numbers and their success as species. Several American holly seedlings have sprung up on our lawn over the years. And the birds guarantee part of their berry food supply into the future.
Mysteriously, bird species sometimes don't consume holly berries until late in winter and into early spring, such as robins passing through here on migration early in March. Berries of other plants are consumed before those on hollies. Therefore, many pretty holly berries last all winter, much to our enjoyment. But holly berries provide nourishment when the supplies of other berries are exhausted and many birds need it most.
There is much beauty in the red berries of female American hollies and winterberries, whether they are wild or planted. The evergreen foliage of holly trees is also a lovely contrast with the scarlet berries on them. And birds attracted to the hollies to consume their lovely berries in winter and early spring add their beauties to those of the plants. Study hollies a bit more closely to experience their beauties and that of the birds that ingest their fruits.
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