For a few hours on the afternoon of March 29 of this year, I drove to a few soggy, short-grass meadows in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland to experience whatever was happening in nature. Individuals and groups of American robins and purple grackles were on lawns, pastures and fields, here and there, all along the way. Those abundant, well-known birds were looking for invertebrates in the soil of those human-made habitats.
From one short-grass meadow near the Conestoga River, I was thrilled to see thousands of grackles in one great flock drifting down and settling like black snow on a harvested corn field, turning part of it black. There the grackles ingested corn kernels missed by automatic harvesters the autumn before, then moved to other parts of the field. Once that horde of grackles landed in a few large, bare trees near the field, turning them black with "feathered" foliage.
In that same short-grass pasture, I saw a few kinds of critters in and around a dug-out, shallow-water pool, about the size of a small house, where people ice skated. That puddle hosted a handsome pair of feeding mallard ducks, a sleek muskrat gathering grass on the shoreline and a pair of lovely eastern bluebirds perched on dead weed stalks. And I was happy to see about six striking male red-winged blackbirds perched on dead weeds to sing their "kon-ga-ree" songs to establish nesting territories and attract mates, and approximately 12 beautifully-camouflaged Wilson's snipe that poked their long beaks in mud under shallow water to pull out and ingest invertebrates. The beautiful red-wings and snipe were recently arrived from locations farther south where they spent the winter.
All these creatures, except the snipe, will stay in that area to raise young. The snipe will migrate farther north to rear offspring. They stopped in that wet meadow, as they will in others, to fuel up on invertebrates before continuing their journey.
In another pasture I visited, I saw a pair of feeding mallards, a pair of bluebirds eating invertebrates they caught in the short-grass, a few singing male red-wings perched on fence posts, six snipe, mostly hidden in the short grass near a shallow puddle, and a small group of sharp-looking tree swallows skimming low over the meadow after flying insects to eat. The recently arrived swallows will stay here to nest in tree cavities and nest boxes in open, sunny habitats, mostly near waterways and impoundments where flying insects are plentiful.
I was not surprised to see any of these birds, locally, at this time of year. They are all common here each spring. But I felt good seeing them again because of their beauties and intriguing habits in the local, human-made habitats of meadows, fields and lawns where they get food and most of them hatch youngsters.
Fortunately for us, these common species of birds, and others, have adapted to built habitats to raise young. They are a joy to experience during spring and summer in heavily developed Lancaster County, as elsewhere.
Thursday, March 29, 2018
Saturday, March 24, 2018
Birds Coping With Snow
On March 21, 2018, we in southeastern Pennsylvania were hit by a twelve-inch snowfall. And on March 22, I drove the streets of New Holland and roads in farmland around that town to see how some adaptable, common birds were coping with the biggest snowfall we had so far this year. Individuals and small groups of American robins, purple grackles and starlings were on the plowed streets and sidewalks of New Holland to look for invertebrates and seeds where soil and short grass were exposed on the edges of those pavements by plowing and shoveling. And they searched for that food on parts of lawns made bare by children building snow people and snow forts.
In farmland around New Holland, however, I saw more species of birds and bigger numbers of them as I drove slowly along rural roads. Several flocks of horned larks took flight from road edges as my car approached them. They were there to consume weed and grass seeds in soil exposed by snow plows accidentally scouring stretches of roadside shoulders. And because of their brown feathering that camouflages them, I didn't see those larks until close to them. But, fortunately, I didn't see any of them hit by vehicles on the roads, so they all got up and away before vehicles got too close to them.
Horned larks live in our croplands the year around, but are not seen much until snow forces them along plowed roadsides to get seeds. Then we see how many hundreds or thousands of them are wintering in that local habitat. And, with binoculars, one can see the black and yellow head patterns that make these sparrow-sized birds so attractive
Lots of individual robins and a killdeer plover or two here and there were also along the edges of the country roads to look for invertebrates in the exposed soil. These lovely birds, too, flew up in front of my slow-moving car without collision.
Farmers' lanes were plowed out, exposing the soil, gravel and tufts of grass they are composed of. One farmer's lane, in particular, was loaded with a small variety of birds, including about two dozen horned larks, 16 robins, 8 killdeer and about 10 starlings. The larks were there to consume seeds, but the other kinds of birds were after invertebrates. These pretty, actively-feeding birds made that nondescript lane interesting.
Little, shallow seepages and running trickles in short-grass cow pastures also attract farmland birds because snow did not lay on them, leaving the invertebrates they harbor exposed to the searching of birds. One shallow, grassy rivulet that was about 20 yards long and ten feet across in a grassy meadow was particularly intriguing to me because of the number of birds, including robins, killdeer and American pipits, in it looking for invertebrates to eat in the inch-deep, slowly-flowing water. The handsome birds waded in the crystal-clear shallows and perched on clumps of lush grass in that broad trickle of sparkling water.
Narrow, muddy and grassy stream edges, paralleling brooks and streams in pastures, were visited by many birds of several species. Along the muddy margins of one, particular, clear-water brook, I saw several robins, about a dozen pipits, a couple of killdeer, several purple grackles, a few red-winged blackbirds and one rusty blackbird, which was a pleasant surprise to me because rusties are not common in this part of North America. All these attractive, entertaining birds were busily looking for invertebrates in the shallow water and the mud under it on the thin waterway edges. The grackles vigorously flipped over leaves and twigs to catch invertebrates that might be under them. And a few American wigeons grazed on short grass where it was exposed.
I also saw a few other kinds of birds along some of the running brooks and streams, habitats these brownish birds normally winter in, snow or no snow. Some song sparrows are permanent residents along many of the little waterways in meadows. I saw a couple of Wilson's snipe, which is a kind of inland sandpiper that winters along small waterways in pastures. And I saw a winter wren along a stream in a farmland woodlot; a habitat its species winters in.
Robins were the dominant birds in every habitat, everywhere I went that day because, it seems, they are particularly adaptable. And, some robins winter here, eating berries and spending winter nights in younger coniferous trees that block cold, winter wind. Others of their omnipresent kind are back to nest, bolstering the numbers of robins in this area.
Snow is perishable in temperatures above 32 degrees and by the time of this writing, much of it was melted away, exposing more soil every succeeding day. And the birds, of course, spread out to old feeding areas freed of snow. They quickly went back to their normal routines.
I thought seeing how some kinds of birds coped with several inches of snow on the ground was interesting. All wildlife must daily adapt to all kinds of changes in their habitats, including those imposed by human activities. And the individuals that do, survive long enough to reproduce.
In farmland around New Holland, however, I saw more species of birds and bigger numbers of them as I drove slowly along rural roads. Several flocks of horned larks took flight from road edges as my car approached them. They were there to consume weed and grass seeds in soil exposed by snow plows accidentally scouring stretches of roadside shoulders. And because of their brown feathering that camouflages them, I didn't see those larks until close to them. But, fortunately, I didn't see any of them hit by vehicles on the roads, so they all got up and away before vehicles got too close to them.
Horned larks live in our croplands the year around, but are not seen much until snow forces them along plowed roadsides to get seeds. Then we see how many hundreds or thousands of them are wintering in that local habitat. And, with binoculars, one can see the black and yellow head patterns that make these sparrow-sized birds so attractive
Lots of individual robins and a killdeer plover or two here and there were also along the edges of the country roads to look for invertebrates in the exposed soil. These lovely birds, too, flew up in front of my slow-moving car without collision.
Farmers' lanes were plowed out, exposing the soil, gravel and tufts of grass they are composed of. One farmer's lane, in particular, was loaded with a small variety of birds, including about two dozen horned larks, 16 robins, 8 killdeer and about 10 starlings. The larks were there to consume seeds, but the other kinds of birds were after invertebrates. These pretty, actively-feeding birds made that nondescript lane interesting.
Little, shallow seepages and running trickles in short-grass cow pastures also attract farmland birds because snow did not lay on them, leaving the invertebrates they harbor exposed to the searching of birds. One shallow, grassy rivulet that was about 20 yards long and ten feet across in a grassy meadow was particularly intriguing to me because of the number of birds, including robins, killdeer and American pipits, in it looking for invertebrates to eat in the inch-deep, slowly-flowing water. The handsome birds waded in the crystal-clear shallows and perched on clumps of lush grass in that broad trickle of sparkling water.
Narrow, muddy and grassy stream edges, paralleling brooks and streams in pastures, were visited by many birds of several species. Along the muddy margins of one, particular, clear-water brook, I saw several robins, about a dozen pipits, a couple of killdeer, several purple grackles, a few red-winged blackbirds and one rusty blackbird, which was a pleasant surprise to me because rusties are not common in this part of North America. All these attractive, entertaining birds were busily looking for invertebrates in the shallow water and the mud under it on the thin waterway edges. The grackles vigorously flipped over leaves and twigs to catch invertebrates that might be under them. And a few American wigeons grazed on short grass where it was exposed.
I also saw a few other kinds of birds along some of the running brooks and streams, habitats these brownish birds normally winter in, snow or no snow. Some song sparrows are permanent residents along many of the little waterways in meadows. I saw a couple of Wilson's snipe, which is a kind of inland sandpiper that winters along small waterways in pastures. And I saw a winter wren along a stream in a farmland woodlot; a habitat its species winters in.
Robins were the dominant birds in every habitat, everywhere I went that day because, it seems, they are particularly adaptable. And, some robins winter here, eating berries and spending winter nights in younger coniferous trees that block cold, winter wind. Others of their omnipresent kind are back to nest, bolstering the numbers of robins in this area.
Snow is perishable in temperatures above 32 degrees and by the time of this writing, much of it was melted away, exposing more soil every succeeding day. And the birds, of course, spread out to old feeding areas freed of snow. They quickly went back to their normal routines.
I thought seeing how some kinds of birds coped with several inches of snow on the ground was interesting. All wildlife must daily adapt to all kinds of changes in their habitats, including those imposed by human activities. And the individuals that do, survive long enough to reproduce.
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
Birds' Nests in Winter
Birds' nests are more visible in deciduous trees and shrubs during winter in southeastern Pennsylvania, as everywhere, than in summer because those woody plants are bare of foliage, revealing the treasures they harbored in summer. I often see the beautifully built nurseries of Baltimore orioles and American goldfinches in winter when I am out exploring nature.
Though they are from different bird families, Baltimore orioles and American goldfinches have some characteristics in common. Males of both these common species in summer have brightly colored feathers to impress other males of their kinds to stay out of their nesting territories and to attract females of their types to raise young in their nesting territories. Male orioles have orange and black feathers and male goldfinches have yellow and black plumage. Female orioles, however, have light-brown and pale-orange feathering and female goldfinches have olive-yellow plumages. The females are not as gaudy as their mates so that camouflage can protect them against predation from hawks, cats and other predators.
Females of both these species build attractive cradles to hatch their young, although male orioles help their mates with that construction. And the intriguing nurseries of both species are amazingly well constructed by birds that had no previous training or experience in nest building.
Foods of orioles and goldfinches are different. Orioles eat invertebrates they find in tree foliage, and mulberries, cherries and grapes. Goldfinches, however, consume seeds from grasses, and weeds such as dandelions, dock, thistles, asters and many others. Goldfinches begin raising offspring in mid-summer so they can regularly feed a porridge of pre-digested, regurgitated seeds to their young.
Baltimore orioles nest in meadows, along tree-lined rural roads and streams in farmland, on lawns in farmyards and other, open habitats dotted with tall trees. Each female oriole suspends her cradle on a few outer twigs at the end of a limb on the outside of a tree, and over a waterway, road, pasture or lawn, about 12 to 50 feet high in a sycamore, American elm or other kind of tree.
Each nursery itself is an eight-inch-deep pouch of tightly-woven plant fibers, grape bark and grasses with long stems, all of which are also anchored to tree twigs. The inside of each nest is lined with dandelion fluff and soft grass stems. There those cradles hang and swing in the wind like pendants. Each female oriole lays four or five eggs in her swinging nursery, which might be subject to being preyed on by crows, blue jays, tree squirrels and other predators.
American goldfinches inhabit overgrown, weedy fields, which are dotted with shrubbery and small trees. Each female goldfinch builds her open cup of three inches across on the outside and two and a half inches deep in a crotch of three adjoining twigs in a shrub or young tree on a lawn near weedy fields, or in an overgrown field itself. Each nest is composed of weaving rootlets, fine grasses and plant fibers together, and spider silk to lash that nursery tightly together and attach it to the supporting twigs. Each cup is lined with fine grasses, cattail fluff and thistle down. And each female lays about five eggs in her exquisite, little cup.
When outside in winter, look for Baltimore oriole and American goldfinch nests in trees and shrubbery in the more open habitats of the United States. They add more beauty and intrigue to outdoor trips in winter.
Though they are from different bird families, Baltimore orioles and American goldfinches have some characteristics in common. Males of both these common species in summer have brightly colored feathers to impress other males of their kinds to stay out of their nesting territories and to attract females of their types to raise young in their nesting territories. Male orioles have orange and black feathers and male goldfinches have yellow and black plumage. Female orioles, however, have light-brown and pale-orange feathering and female goldfinches have olive-yellow plumages. The females are not as gaudy as their mates so that camouflage can protect them against predation from hawks, cats and other predators.
Females of both these species build attractive cradles to hatch their young, although male orioles help their mates with that construction. And the intriguing nurseries of both species are amazingly well constructed by birds that had no previous training or experience in nest building.
Foods of orioles and goldfinches are different. Orioles eat invertebrates they find in tree foliage, and mulberries, cherries and grapes. Goldfinches, however, consume seeds from grasses, and weeds such as dandelions, dock, thistles, asters and many others. Goldfinches begin raising offspring in mid-summer so they can regularly feed a porridge of pre-digested, regurgitated seeds to their young.
Baltimore orioles nest in meadows, along tree-lined rural roads and streams in farmland, on lawns in farmyards and other, open habitats dotted with tall trees. Each female oriole suspends her cradle on a few outer twigs at the end of a limb on the outside of a tree, and over a waterway, road, pasture or lawn, about 12 to 50 feet high in a sycamore, American elm or other kind of tree.
Each nursery itself is an eight-inch-deep pouch of tightly-woven plant fibers, grape bark and grasses with long stems, all of which are also anchored to tree twigs. The inside of each nest is lined with dandelion fluff and soft grass stems. There those cradles hang and swing in the wind like pendants. Each female oriole lays four or five eggs in her swinging nursery, which might be subject to being preyed on by crows, blue jays, tree squirrels and other predators.
American goldfinches inhabit overgrown, weedy fields, which are dotted with shrubbery and small trees. Each female goldfinch builds her open cup of three inches across on the outside and two and a half inches deep in a crotch of three adjoining twigs in a shrub or young tree on a lawn near weedy fields, or in an overgrown field itself. Each nest is composed of weaving rootlets, fine grasses and plant fibers together, and spider silk to lash that nursery tightly together and attach it to the supporting twigs. Each cup is lined with fine grasses, cattail fluff and thistle down. And each female lays about five eggs in her exquisite, little cup.
When outside in winter, look for Baltimore oriole and American goldfinch nests in trees and shrubbery in the more open habitats of the United States. They add more beauty and intrigue to outdoor trips in winter.
Saturday, March 17, 2018
A Pair of Ducks?
While driving through Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland this March to experience what was currently happening in nature, I noticed a small group of ducks in a "hole" of deeper, slow water in a cow pasture stream. With 16 power binoculars, I scanned that gathering of ducks and saw they were a handsome pair of mallards, three beautiful wood ducks, two of them drakes and one attractive male hooded merganser, for a total of six ducks of three species. The mallard pair may have been there to hatch ducklings under shrubbery along the stream, but the other ducks were surely migrants that will raise young elsewhere. At any rate, I was struck with that seemingly odd combination of species, in such a small waterway in the wide, open spaces of a meadow with only a few young trees along the stream.
Wood ducks and hooded mergansers are shy species that generally stay under cover and nest in tree cavities and nest boxes erected for them near waterways, ponds and swamps in woodlands. However, some, more adaptable, wood ducks in farmland are hatching offspring in tree hollows and nest boxes in meadows that have at least some trees.
While watching those lovely ducks in that little, running stream for a few minutes, I noticed the hen wood duck seemed attached to the male hooded merganser, or the drake merganser was attached to the female wood duck, as if they were a mated pair. She stayed close to him, or the other way around, the whole time I was there.
Woodies and hoodies have diverged in what they eat, which allows them to occupy the same habitats. Wood ducks mostly ingest aquatic invertebrates, water plants, and seeds and small nuts and hooded mergansers consume aquatic invertebrates, crayfish, tadpoles and small fish they dive under water to get. But these duck species have converged in other ways, including habitat choices in the northeastern United States and nesting places in those shared habitats, which pushes them into competition with each other for hollows to hatch ducklings.
With rivalry for nesting cavities, and more female ducks of two kinds than nesting holes available, some female woodies and hoodies that couldn't find a nesting hollow and desperate to lay the eggs forming in them, place their eggs, one at a time, in clutches in hollows while the clutch owners are away from their nesting cavities. Like most birds, except hawks, eagles and owls, ducks lay one egg a day and don't brood them until all eggs are laid so the young all hatch on the same day. Therefore, the clutches are available to interloping female ducks.
Therefore, some broods of wood duck hens and hooded merganser females have some ducklings of each species in them. Each hen escorts and broods the ducklings that she hatched until they are old enough to take care of themselves. The younger ducklings of both species eat lots of invertebrates, which gives them much protein for growth. But as they get older, each species ingests the foods of its elders.
Some ducklings from mixed broods might imprint on the species of the female that raised them, therefore some adult woodies and hoodies may get attracted to the opposite gender of the other species. It could have been that the drake hooded merganser was attracted to the female wood duck as she was migrating north with others of her kind. But all this is speculation. Perhaps the woody and hoody were not paired, but I never saw anything like that among birds before. This is one of the happenings that makes observing nature so interesting and enjoyable. There is always something new and intriguing going on and it is all beautiful and inspiring.
Wood ducks and hooded mergansers are shy species that generally stay under cover and nest in tree cavities and nest boxes erected for them near waterways, ponds and swamps in woodlands. However, some, more adaptable, wood ducks in farmland are hatching offspring in tree hollows and nest boxes in meadows that have at least some trees.
While watching those lovely ducks in that little, running stream for a few minutes, I noticed the hen wood duck seemed attached to the male hooded merganser, or the drake merganser was attached to the female wood duck, as if they were a mated pair. She stayed close to him, or the other way around, the whole time I was there.
Woodies and hoodies have diverged in what they eat, which allows them to occupy the same habitats. Wood ducks mostly ingest aquatic invertebrates, water plants, and seeds and small nuts and hooded mergansers consume aquatic invertebrates, crayfish, tadpoles and small fish they dive under water to get. But these duck species have converged in other ways, including habitat choices in the northeastern United States and nesting places in those shared habitats, which pushes them into competition with each other for hollows to hatch ducklings.
With rivalry for nesting cavities, and more female ducks of two kinds than nesting holes available, some female woodies and hoodies that couldn't find a nesting hollow and desperate to lay the eggs forming in them, place their eggs, one at a time, in clutches in hollows while the clutch owners are away from their nesting cavities. Like most birds, except hawks, eagles and owls, ducks lay one egg a day and don't brood them until all eggs are laid so the young all hatch on the same day. Therefore, the clutches are available to interloping female ducks.
Therefore, some broods of wood duck hens and hooded merganser females have some ducklings of each species in them. Each hen escorts and broods the ducklings that she hatched until they are old enough to take care of themselves. The younger ducklings of both species eat lots of invertebrates, which gives them much protein for growth. But as they get older, each species ingests the foods of its elders.
Some ducklings from mixed broods might imprint on the species of the female that raised them, therefore some adult woodies and hoodies may get attracted to the opposite gender of the other species. It could have been that the drake hooded merganser was attracted to the female wood duck as she was migrating north with others of her kind. But all this is speculation. Perhaps the woody and hoody were not paired, but I never saw anything like that among birds before. This is one of the happenings that makes observing nature so interesting and enjoyable. There is always something new and intriguing going on and it is all beautiful and inspiring.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
Early-Spring Flowers
Although our calendars say spring begins on March 20th, I think the vernal season starts during the second week in February here in southeastern Pennsylvania. I base my judgement on the migrations of swans, geese, ducks and blackbirds in February and March, and American robins' arrival here early in March. Also, several kinds of small, permanent resident birds sing during warm afternoons in February and March. Wood frogs and spotted salamanders spawn during the first prolonged rains in March. And the blooming of several kinds of hardy flowering plants at one time or another in those two months. All these early signs of spring's arrival are welcome to many people weary of winter.
Native to eastern North America, skunk cabbage hoods emerge abundantly from muck, inch-deep water or snow in bottomland woods by the beginning of February in southeastern Pennsylvania. Each of those two-inch, green and purplish-brown hoods protects a fleshy ball, spotted with tiny flowers. An opening on one side of each hood allows early flies and other insects access to those small blooms to sip nectar, pollinating those blossoms n the process.
Native spring witch hazel shrubs have several long, thin, twisted, yellow petals per flower by early February in this area. The many blooms on each witch hazel bush certainly brighten their corners of the lawns they were planted on, bringing a prelude of spring to the home owners.
Snow drops and winter aconites are two species of ground-hugging plants originally from Eurasia. They both sprout early in February in this area, from bulbs planted on lawns and flower beds the autumn before. Snow drops have grass-like leaves and lovely white flowers that droop, looking like drops of snow in early February. But when those pretty blooms open, they resemble tiny bells that seem to tinkle in the wind.
Each aconite has a ring of small, scalloped leaves almost on the ground and one cheery-looking, upright, yellow bloom by the middle of February. Snow drops and aconites both spread year after year, from their original plantings across lawns and woodland floors, appearing as if they are native wild flowers. They are wild, but not native here.
Popular and handsome, male pussy willow shrubs have furry, gray, upright catkins that are quite attractive by early March in this area. Again from Europe originally, these willows can be started by putting twig cuttings in containers of water until they grow roots, then plant them in soil and watch them grow and grow.
Pussy willows feed and house several kinds of wildlife. Early insects sip nectar from their catkins, common lawn birds nest among their twigs, Japanese beetles ingest their leaves, willow aphids suck the sugary sap of their younger, softer bark and cottontail rabbits eat their bark and twigs in winter.
Silver maple trees are native to moist bottomlands along creeks and streams in eastern North America. They have many small, dull-red blooms by the end of February into March, making the bottomlands, and the lawns they were planted on, more attractive.
Silver maples' winged seeds are developed by late spring and twirl on the wind away from the parent trees. Many of those seeds, however, are eaten by a variety of rodents.
Silver maples break down easily in strong winds, causing hollows of various sizes in the trunks where limbs were ripped off, exposing the wood under the bark to agents of decay. Squirrels, raccoons, wood ducks, barred owls and other critters live and raise young in those cavities.
Crocuses are from Eurasia, but planted abundantly on lawns and in flower beds in the United States. Each simple plant has a few grass-like leaves and one large, beautiful flower that has white, yellow or deep-purple petals. And all crocus blossoms have orange stamens, making pretty color combinations on our lawns in March.
Hazelnut shrubs and speckled alder shrubs each have male catkins that grow up to two inches long, droop from their twigs and sway in the wind. Hazelnut shrubs also have tiny, red female flowers of a few petals, from which grow their nuts that feed white-tailed deer, black bears, squirrels, deer mice, wild turkeys and other kinds of wildlife.
Alder catkins are a lovely deep-purple. Their female blooms grow attractive, half-inch cones that house alder seeds until they are mature.
Scilla is another kind of simple, ground-hugging plant from Europe that has lovely, sky-blue blossoms on lawns and in flower beds during mid-March. Scilla, too spreads from where it was planted, making some lawns look like they are reflecting a clear sky.
Red maple trees in damp, wooded bottomlands, and on lawns where they were planted, have pretty, red blooms toward the end of March. The canopies of some woodland swamps are red with maple flowers at that time, while male spring peeper frogs peep and male pickerel frogs snore in shallow water under those red canopies. Those frogs call out at dusk and into the night to attract females of their respective kinds for spawning in the shallows.
These early-spring blooms help remove the sting of winter here in southeastern Pennsylvania. And they help make one believe that spring is here by the second week in February.
Native to eastern North America, skunk cabbage hoods emerge abundantly from muck, inch-deep water or snow in bottomland woods by the beginning of February in southeastern Pennsylvania. Each of those two-inch, green and purplish-brown hoods protects a fleshy ball, spotted with tiny flowers. An opening on one side of each hood allows early flies and other insects access to those small blooms to sip nectar, pollinating those blossoms n the process.
Native spring witch hazel shrubs have several long, thin, twisted, yellow petals per flower by early February in this area. The many blooms on each witch hazel bush certainly brighten their corners of the lawns they were planted on, bringing a prelude of spring to the home owners.
Snow drops and winter aconites are two species of ground-hugging plants originally from Eurasia. They both sprout early in February in this area, from bulbs planted on lawns and flower beds the autumn before. Snow drops have grass-like leaves and lovely white flowers that droop, looking like drops of snow in early February. But when those pretty blooms open, they resemble tiny bells that seem to tinkle in the wind.
Each aconite has a ring of small, scalloped leaves almost on the ground and one cheery-looking, upright, yellow bloom by the middle of February. Snow drops and aconites both spread year after year, from their original plantings across lawns and woodland floors, appearing as if they are native wild flowers. They are wild, but not native here.
Popular and handsome, male pussy willow shrubs have furry, gray, upright catkins that are quite attractive by early March in this area. Again from Europe originally, these willows can be started by putting twig cuttings in containers of water until they grow roots, then plant them in soil and watch them grow and grow.
Pussy willows feed and house several kinds of wildlife. Early insects sip nectar from their catkins, common lawn birds nest among their twigs, Japanese beetles ingest their leaves, willow aphids suck the sugary sap of their younger, softer bark and cottontail rabbits eat their bark and twigs in winter.
Silver maple trees are native to moist bottomlands along creeks and streams in eastern North America. They have many small, dull-red blooms by the end of February into March, making the bottomlands, and the lawns they were planted on, more attractive.
Silver maples' winged seeds are developed by late spring and twirl on the wind away from the parent trees. Many of those seeds, however, are eaten by a variety of rodents.
Silver maples break down easily in strong winds, causing hollows of various sizes in the trunks where limbs were ripped off, exposing the wood under the bark to agents of decay. Squirrels, raccoons, wood ducks, barred owls and other critters live and raise young in those cavities.
Crocuses are from Eurasia, but planted abundantly on lawns and in flower beds in the United States. Each simple plant has a few grass-like leaves and one large, beautiful flower that has white, yellow or deep-purple petals. And all crocus blossoms have orange stamens, making pretty color combinations on our lawns in March.
Hazelnut shrubs and speckled alder shrubs each have male catkins that grow up to two inches long, droop from their twigs and sway in the wind. Hazelnut shrubs also have tiny, red female flowers of a few petals, from which grow their nuts that feed white-tailed deer, black bears, squirrels, deer mice, wild turkeys and other kinds of wildlife.
Alder catkins are a lovely deep-purple. Their female blooms grow attractive, half-inch cones that house alder seeds until they are mature.
Scilla is another kind of simple, ground-hugging plant from Europe that has lovely, sky-blue blossoms on lawns and in flower beds during mid-March. Scilla, too spreads from where it was planted, making some lawns look like they are reflecting a clear sky.
Red maple trees in damp, wooded bottomlands, and on lawns where they were planted, have pretty, red blooms toward the end of March. The canopies of some woodland swamps are red with maple flowers at that time, while male spring peeper frogs peep and male pickerel frogs snore in shallow water under those red canopies. Those frogs call out at dusk and into the night to attract females of their respective kinds for spawning in the shallows.
These early-spring blooms help remove the sting of winter here in southeastern Pennsylvania. And they help make one believe that spring is here by the second week in February.
Sunday, March 11, 2018
Large-Flock Birds
At least seven kinds of common birds in southeastern Pennsylvania, as elsewhere in eastern North America, move about, feed and rest in large flocks in winter and/or early spring. They are American crows, ring-billed gulls, Canada geese, purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds, tundra swans and snow geese. Great gatherings of these birds are thrilling and inspiring to experience, whenever and wherever they occur.
Big flocks of American crows come to this area, and across much of the Lower 48, to spend the winter where food is generally more abundant than in Canadian forests where they raise young. These crows consume corn kernels in harvested corn fields, acorns on suburban lawns, edible garbage in dumpsters and landfills and other types of food. And by mid to late afternoon, long, black rivers of crows flow across the sky from every direction to converge in the crows' nightly roosts in patches of tall coniferous trees and other sheltered habitats, including in trees in cities. Trees and the buildings of Park City Shopping Mall, just outside Lancaster City, is a place, for example, where great numbers of crows are daily entertaining and inspiring through each winter. And at all their winter roosts, many crows "caw" loudly at once, creating an exciting bedlam to their coming together for the night through winter and into early spring.
Tens of thousands of ring-billed gulls also winter in southeastern Pennsylvania. And hordes of them congregate on landfills to ingest the daily dumping of edible garbage. But they also land on bare-ground fields, when the ground is ice and snow-free, to eat earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates.
Ring-bills are light and dainty on the wing, and when they descend to land and water. And no matter where they feed, ring-bills spend nights on the safety of the Susquehanna and Delaware Rivers and inland, human-made impoundments. One can see their inspiring, beautiful thousands pour off those large bodies of water early in the morning and come back to them by late afternoon every day through each winter and into early spring.
Many thousands of stately Canada geese live in southeastern Pennsylvania all winter. They rest on impoundments and daily feed in harvested corn fields, and rye fields where they pluck the green shoots of winter rye. Noisy flocks of them are inspiring to see and hear going to the fields to ingest food or to the impoundments where they rest and digest. This handsome species of goose doesn't take off from water or field all at once, but in smaller gatherings, flock after inspiring flock, until all birds have departed and are in the air, still clamoring loudly.
By early March, other gangs of Canada geese come into southeastern Pennsylvania from farther south. They registered the increasing amount of daylight each succeeding day in their brains and are eager to push north to their Canada nesting areas. Some years they flood into this area as if a dam of them broke.
In February and March, tremendous, mixed rivers and floods of purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds settle noisily on harvested corn fields like black blankets to consume corn kernels among the stubble and invertebrates whenever and wherever they find them. Their great hordes clean out field after field of its edibles, obliging the blackbirds to constantly move about to find food.
Both these kinds of blackbirds are attractive in their own dark ways. Grackles' black feathers reflect light and so appear to be iridescent, green, bronze and purple. Male red-wings black feathers are highlighted by a red patch on each shoulder, that look like hundreds or thousands of red coals in a dark furnace when red-wings fly. Female red-wings look like large, dark sparrows with their brown feathering highlighted by darker streaking.
Usually by the end of January and through February, flocks of majestic tundra swans flow into southeastern Pennsylvania from Chesapeake Bay and other waters south to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. These large, white, magnificent birds feed up to twice a day on the same foods in many of the same corn and rye fields that Canada geese do, and rest on many of the same impoundments.
As with Canada geese, one can hear the swans coming before they are seen in the sky. These magnificent birds utter forceful, reedy calls that sound like "woo-hoo, woo-hoo-hoo". Like geese and other birds, swans turn into the wind for flight control when landing on water or the ground. Flock after flock, swans parachute down, each gang following the one before it as if on an aerial highway and back-pedaling their big wings enough at the last second for a gentle landing, all the while calling loudly. And like flocks of geese, tundra swan gatherings are exciting and inspiring to experience, until they leave southeastern Pennsylvania and are on their way to the Arctic tundra to nest.
Like the swans, flocks of snow geese flood into this area about the end of January and into February. Snow geese keep coming into southeastern Pennsylvania until up to 150, 000 are here,
most of them at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area.
Snow geese do everything together. They land on the same few impoundments, covering much of them as if a sheet of ice were on the water. The snows all come down in the same few fields, making those fields look as if snow fell on them only. And when great hordes of snow geese suddenly take flight at once, with a roar of flapping wings and loud honking, backgrounds are completely blocked from view by their tremendous numbers.
Like swans and Canada geese, snow geese feed on corn kernels and rye shoots in many of the same fields as their larger cousins do. And like the swans, snow geese will stay in southeastern Pennsylvania until about mid-March, when they fly in great hordes farther north to, perhaps, the St. Lawrence River; then slowly through Canada to the Arctic tundra to nest. But while here, they were the most exciting and inspiring of bird species in southeastern Pennsylvania. Snow geese, alone, attract thousands of people to Middle Creek to experience their tremendous flocks numbering tens of thousands before those huge congregations of geese head farther north.
All these species of large-flock birds, that have adapted to wintering in farmland in North America, are exciting and inspiring to experience in winter and into early spring. Sometime take the time to look for and study them.
Big flocks of American crows come to this area, and across much of the Lower 48, to spend the winter where food is generally more abundant than in Canadian forests where they raise young. These crows consume corn kernels in harvested corn fields, acorns on suburban lawns, edible garbage in dumpsters and landfills and other types of food. And by mid to late afternoon, long, black rivers of crows flow across the sky from every direction to converge in the crows' nightly roosts in patches of tall coniferous trees and other sheltered habitats, including in trees in cities. Trees and the buildings of Park City Shopping Mall, just outside Lancaster City, is a place, for example, where great numbers of crows are daily entertaining and inspiring through each winter. And at all their winter roosts, many crows "caw" loudly at once, creating an exciting bedlam to their coming together for the night through winter and into early spring.
Tens of thousands of ring-billed gulls also winter in southeastern Pennsylvania. And hordes of them congregate on landfills to ingest the daily dumping of edible garbage. But they also land on bare-ground fields, when the ground is ice and snow-free, to eat earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates.
Ring-bills are light and dainty on the wing, and when they descend to land and water. And no matter where they feed, ring-bills spend nights on the safety of the Susquehanna and Delaware Rivers and inland, human-made impoundments. One can see their inspiring, beautiful thousands pour off those large bodies of water early in the morning and come back to them by late afternoon every day through each winter and into early spring.
Many thousands of stately Canada geese live in southeastern Pennsylvania all winter. They rest on impoundments and daily feed in harvested corn fields, and rye fields where they pluck the green shoots of winter rye. Noisy flocks of them are inspiring to see and hear going to the fields to ingest food or to the impoundments where they rest and digest. This handsome species of goose doesn't take off from water or field all at once, but in smaller gatherings, flock after inspiring flock, until all birds have departed and are in the air, still clamoring loudly.
By early March, other gangs of Canada geese come into southeastern Pennsylvania from farther south. They registered the increasing amount of daylight each succeeding day in their brains and are eager to push north to their Canada nesting areas. Some years they flood into this area as if a dam of them broke.
In February and March, tremendous, mixed rivers and floods of purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds settle noisily on harvested corn fields like black blankets to consume corn kernels among the stubble and invertebrates whenever and wherever they find them. Their great hordes clean out field after field of its edibles, obliging the blackbirds to constantly move about to find food.
Both these kinds of blackbirds are attractive in their own dark ways. Grackles' black feathers reflect light and so appear to be iridescent, green, bronze and purple. Male red-wings black feathers are highlighted by a red patch on each shoulder, that look like hundreds or thousands of red coals in a dark furnace when red-wings fly. Female red-wings look like large, dark sparrows with their brown feathering highlighted by darker streaking.
Usually by the end of January and through February, flocks of majestic tundra swans flow into southeastern Pennsylvania from Chesapeake Bay and other waters south to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. These large, white, magnificent birds feed up to twice a day on the same foods in many of the same corn and rye fields that Canada geese do, and rest on many of the same impoundments.
As with Canada geese, one can hear the swans coming before they are seen in the sky. These magnificent birds utter forceful, reedy calls that sound like "woo-hoo, woo-hoo-hoo". Like geese and other birds, swans turn into the wind for flight control when landing on water or the ground. Flock after flock, swans parachute down, each gang following the one before it as if on an aerial highway and back-pedaling their big wings enough at the last second for a gentle landing, all the while calling loudly. And like flocks of geese, tundra swan gatherings are exciting and inspiring to experience, until they leave southeastern Pennsylvania and are on their way to the Arctic tundra to nest.
Like the swans, flocks of snow geese flood into this area about the end of January and into February. Snow geese keep coming into southeastern Pennsylvania until up to 150, 000 are here,
most of them at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area.
Snow geese do everything together. They land on the same few impoundments, covering much of them as if a sheet of ice were on the water. The snows all come down in the same few fields, making those fields look as if snow fell on them only. And when great hordes of snow geese suddenly take flight at once, with a roar of flapping wings and loud honking, backgrounds are completely blocked from view by their tremendous numbers.
Like swans and Canada geese, snow geese feed on corn kernels and rye shoots in many of the same fields as their larger cousins do. And like the swans, snow geese will stay in southeastern Pennsylvania until about mid-March, when they fly in great hordes farther north to, perhaps, the St. Lawrence River; then slowly through Canada to the Arctic tundra to nest. But while here, they were the most exciting and inspiring of bird species in southeastern Pennsylvania. Snow geese, alone, attract thousands of people to Middle Creek to experience their tremendous flocks numbering tens of thousands before those huge congregations of geese head farther north.
All these species of large-flock birds, that have adapted to wintering in farmland in North America, are exciting and inspiring to experience in winter and into early spring. Sometime take the time to look for and study them.
Wednesday, March 7, 2018
Feathered Convergence
Bonaparte's gulls and tree swallows often migrate north to their nesting areas at the same time in March and April. Both kinds move swiftly along the Susquehanna River here in southeastern Pennsylvania, as they do across much of North America. And I have also seen both kinds of migrant birds flying low over inland, human-made impoundments in this area in spring. Both species, as they push north, catch and eat flying insects over those waters. Though these species are from different bird families, they obviously have characteristics in common because they share similar habitats and lifestyles, including when on migration, that shape their bodily structures and their habits. By fitting into a shared habitat, they have converged with each other, including grabbing insects while on the wing in migration.
Bonaparte's gulls, which are a species of small gulls, about the size of mourning doves, and tree swallows are dainty and graceful in flight. In fact, "bonies" appear tern-like, with a bouyant, bounding flight. Bonies and swallows both have small beaks they use to seize insects on the wing and invertebrates off the surfaces of bodies of water.
Bonies winter in flocks along ocean shorelines where the water doesn't freeze. But in March and April, gatherings of them commonly migrate together up rivers and across farmlands and forests to their nesting territories in northern Alaska and western Canada. I've even seen a few Bonaparte's at a time flitting and hovering gracefully and entertainingly over local farm ponds and flooded pastures, while catching flying insects.
Anyone can easily identify these small gulls, whether in winter or summer plumage, by the long, white patch of feathers on each wing that flutters like a banner in the wind as the birds fly. Many bonies on the wing, particularly in sunlight, resemble several white butterflies on the wing.
Thousands of tree swallows, in flocks large and smaller, dash north across southeastern Pennsylvania during March and April, and some of them stay here to nest in abandoned woodpecker holes, other tree cavities and bird boxes erected for them and eastern bluebirds. These pretty, insect-eating swallows are iridescent blue on top and white below, alternately flashing dark, then white, then dark, as they sweep and turn across fields, meadows and impoundments after flying insects to eat. Parent tree swallows also feed insects to their young.
Bonaparte's gulls are also unusual in that they hatch young in twig and grass nurseries they saddle on horizontal limbs on spruce and fir trees about fifteen to twenty feet above the ground near lakes and marshes in spruce/fir forests. They feed their fuzzy chicks, and themselves, insects they catch in mid-air over nearby lakes, ponds and wetlands and off water surfaces. When picking insects off water, they fly with a few deep wing beats into the wind, glide with their red legs dangling toward the water, hover briefly to pick up a morsel in their bills, then bound away in flight low over the water and repeat that process.
Since they hatch youngsters in nests in trees, bonies also converged with solitary sandpipers. Each female solitary lays four eggs in a deserted American robin, rusty blackbird or jay cradle about four to twenty feet high in a spruce or fir tree near ponds and bogs in coniferous forests in Alaska and Canada. Solitaries and bonies' nest sites have converged for the safety of incubating parents and their eggs and chicks away from ground predators.
Solitary sandpipers are unique because they migrate and feed alone for the most part, rather than in flocks like their relatives. Solitaries pass through southeastern Pennsylvania by late April and into early to mid-May, as do bonies and tree swallows in March and April. Solitaries also fly buoyantly and daintily, like bonies and swallows. But those sandpipers feed on aquatic insects and small crustaceans along shallow shorelines.
It's interesting how creatures living in a habitat are unwittingly molded by it to be similar in appearance and habits to fit into that habitat well so those critters can live and reproduce successfully in it for indefinite periods of time. Those animals, and plants, converge with each other in a particular habitat because of natural selection weeding out those forms of life that don't fit in. Fish and whales are streamlined in water and swallows and bonies are streamlined in the air and able to catch flying insects. And bonies and solitaries nest in trees, though the relatives of each species does not, to protect themselves and their eggs and young from ground predators. Nature is so grandly beautiful and intriguing.
Bonaparte's gulls, which are a species of small gulls, about the size of mourning doves, and tree swallows are dainty and graceful in flight. In fact, "bonies" appear tern-like, with a bouyant, bounding flight. Bonies and swallows both have small beaks they use to seize insects on the wing and invertebrates off the surfaces of bodies of water.
Bonies winter in flocks along ocean shorelines where the water doesn't freeze. But in March and April, gatherings of them commonly migrate together up rivers and across farmlands and forests to their nesting territories in northern Alaska and western Canada. I've even seen a few Bonaparte's at a time flitting and hovering gracefully and entertainingly over local farm ponds and flooded pastures, while catching flying insects.
Anyone can easily identify these small gulls, whether in winter or summer plumage, by the long, white patch of feathers on each wing that flutters like a banner in the wind as the birds fly. Many bonies on the wing, particularly in sunlight, resemble several white butterflies on the wing.
Thousands of tree swallows, in flocks large and smaller, dash north across southeastern Pennsylvania during March and April, and some of them stay here to nest in abandoned woodpecker holes, other tree cavities and bird boxes erected for them and eastern bluebirds. These pretty, insect-eating swallows are iridescent blue on top and white below, alternately flashing dark, then white, then dark, as they sweep and turn across fields, meadows and impoundments after flying insects to eat. Parent tree swallows also feed insects to their young.
Bonaparte's gulls are also unusual in that they hatch young in twig and grass nurseries they saddle on horizontal limbs on spruce and fir trees about fifteen to twenty feet above the ground near lakes and marshes in spruce/fir forests. They feed their fuzzy chicks, and themselves, insects they catch in mid-air over nearby lakes, ponds and wetlands and off water surfaces. When picking insects off water, they fly with a few deep wing beats into the wind, glide with their red legs dangling toward the water, hover briefly to pick up a morsel in their bills, then bound away in flight low over the water and repeat that process.
Since they hatch youngsters in nests in trees, bonies also converged with solitary sandpipers. Each female solitary lays four eggs in a deserted American robin, rusty blackbird or jay cradle about four to twenty feet high in a spruce or fir tree near ponds and bogs in coniferous forests in Alaska and Canada. Solitaries and bonies' nest sites have converged for the safety of incubating parents and their eggs and chicks away from ground predators.
Solitary sandpipers are unique because they migrate and feed alone for the most part, rather than in flocks like their relatives. Solitaries pass through southeastern Pennsylvania by late April and into early to mid-May, as do bonies and tree swallows in March and April. Solitaries also fly buoyantly and daintily, like bonies and swallows. But those sandpipers feed on aquatic insects and small crustaceans along shallow shorelines.
It's interesting how creatures living in a habitat are unwittingly molded by it to be similar in appearance and habits to fit into that habitat well so those critters can live and reproduce successfully in it for indefinite periods of time. Those animals, and plants, converge with each other in a particular habitat because of natural selection weeding out those forms of life that don't fit in. Fish and whales are streamlined in water and swallows and bonies are streamlined in the air and able to catch flying insects. And bonies and solitaries nest in trees, though the relatives of each species does not, to protect themselves and their eggs and young from ground predators. Nature is so grandly beautiful and intriguing.
Monday, March 5, 2018
Wigeons and Gadwalls
American wigeons and gadwalls are related, medium-sized duck species in the same genus in North America, therefore they have behaviors in common. Both species are mostly vegetarians, taking food in fresh water and on land. Drakes of both kinds are attractive in subdued, camouflaged ways. And females of both are basically brown, which blends them into their surroundings, protecting them from predators, including when they are setting on eggs and raising ducklings.
Wintering wigeons and gadwalls have several sources and techniques of getting food, which makes them successful. Both kinds tip-up, with their tails pointing toward the sky, in shallow water to pull aquatic plants from the bottoms of ponds to consume. However, both species also graze on the tender shoots of short grass, as do geese; something that other kinds of American ducks don't do, making wigeons and gadwalls unique in that way. Wigeons and gadwalls are often among geese while they graze. These two related duck species also shovel up grain lying in harvested fields in cropland, as do other species of puddling ducks. And, most interestingly, wigeons and gadwalls steal food from coots and other kinds of ducks that dive underwater to dredge up aquatic plants to ingest on the surface. When those diving birds pop up from the water, the wigeons and/or gadwalls are right on them to take some of that water vegetation from the rightful, working owners of it, again making the robbing wigeons and gadwalls unique, and showing their relatedness.
Drakes of American wigeons and gadwalls are handsomely feathered through winter when we in the Lower 48 States are most likely to see them. Wigeon males have chestnut-colored feathering on their chests and flanks, but are mostly grayish on top. They have white over the top of their heads and an iridescent-green streak around each eye and joining each other on the back of the neck. Hens are mostly chestnut-brown all over. Gadwall drakes are mostly gray all over, with light-brown heads. Females are brown all over, with darker markings.
Female American wigeons nest on the ground under tall plants in marshes in Alaska, western Canada and the northwestern United States. Drakes take no part in incubating eggs or raising ducklings. In spring, each hen eats lots of invertebrates to be able to have protein to produce up to a dozen eggs in her clutch. Ducklings also consume many invertebrates to get protein for growth. And wigeons winter in the United States from New Jersey across the continent to California and south to Mexico and the Caribbean Islands.
Female gadwalls hatch ducklings under grasses and reeds in marshes and around ponds in the prairies of southwestern Canada and northwestern United States. Female and young gadwalls also ingest a lot of invertebrates for growth. Gadwalls winter in small groups on ponds, particularly in farmland where they can find much vegetation to consume through that harshest of seasons.
American wigeons and gadwalls are medium-sized, handsome ducks that have unique habits, especially grazing on grass like geese and relieving diving ducks and coots of the aquatic plants they bring to the surface of ponds to swallow. Most of us see the attractive wigeon and gadwalls around farm ponds and other sluggish waters in winter when they often are mixed with other kinds of ducks,
causing pretty and intriguing gatherings of waterfowl that make the sting of winter less biting.
Wintering wigeons and gadwalls have several sources and techniques of getting food, which makes them successful. Both kinds tip-up, with their tails pointing toward the sky, in shallow water to pull aquatic plants from the bottoms of ponds to consume. However, both species also graze on the tender shoots of short grass, as do geese; something that other kinds of American ducks don't do, making wigeons and gadwalls unique in that way. Wigeons and gadwalls are often among geese while they graze. These two related duck species also shovel up grain lying in harvested fields in cropland, as do other species of puddling ducks. And, most interestingly, wigeons and gadwalls steal food from coots and other kinds of ducks that dive underwater to dredge up aquatic plants to ingest on the surface. When those diving birds pop up from the water, the wigeons and/or gadwalls are right on them to take some of that water vegetation from the rightful, working owners of it, again making the robbing wigeons and gadwalls unique, and showing their relatedness.
Drakes of American wigeons and gadwalls are handsomely feathered through winter when we in the Lower 48 States are most likely to see them. Wigeon males have chestnut-colored feathering on their chests and flanks, but are mostly grayish on top. They have white over the top of their heads and an iridescent-green streak around each eye and joining each other on the back of the neck. Hens are mostly chestnut-brown all over. Gadwall drakes are mostly gray all over, with light-brown heads. Females are brown all over, with darker markings.
Female American wigeons nest on the ground under tall plants in marshes in Alaska, western Canada and the northwestern United States. Drakes take no part in incubating eggs or raising ducklings. In spring, each hen eats lots of invertebrates to be able to have protein to produce up to a dozen eggs in her clutch. Ducklings also consume many invertebrates to get protein for growth. And wigeons winter in the United States from New Jersey across the continent to California and south to Mexico and the Caribbean Islands.
Female gadwalls hatch ducklings under grasses and reeds in marshes and around ponds in the prairies of southwestern Canada and northwestern United States. Female and young gadwalls also ingest a lot of invertebrates for growth. Gadwalls winter in small groups on ponds, particularly in farmland where they can find much vegetation to consume through that harshest of seasons.
American wigeons and gadwalls are medium-sized, handsome ducks that have unique habits, especially grazing on grass like geese and relieving diving ducks and coots of the aquatic plants they bring to the surface of ponds to swallow. Most of us see the attractive wigeon and gadwalls around farm ponds and other sluggish waters in winter when they often are mixed with other kinds of ducks,
causing pretty and intriguing gatherings of waterfowl that make the sting of winter less biting.
Thursday, March 1, 2018
Swan Spectacles
They first appeared as white scribbles in the late-winter sky, but soon their many lines and V's circled over the river, the stately birds whooping melodiously and majestically setting their large, powerful wings to wheel into the wind and glide to the water. Then magnificent white sheets of tundra swans parachuted to the Susquehanna River at Washington Boro, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania as lightly as feathers. Each flock, in its turn, followed the one before it like a feathered waterfall to the river, group after group after group, the reflections of the birds racing through the water to meet their impact.
That happened several years ago when about 15,000 migrating tundra swans, pouring north as unstoppable from their wintering areas on the Chesapeake Bay and other points farther south as a burst dam, staged for about a month or more on shallow water among islands on the Susquehanna at Washington Boro during late winter into early spring. The swans daily fed on corn kernels in harvested corn fields and the green blades of winter rye in fields east of Washington Boro. The great, beautiful gatherings of swans made twice-daily excursions into the fields and back to the river to rest and digest, creating magnificent shows of themselves on the water, in the air and on the fields. In more recent years, however, up to 5,000 tundra swans annually stage on a 400-acre, human-made lake at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area and feed in fields in southern Lebanon County, Pennsylvania, although some swans still annually stage on the Susquehanna. And late February until sometime in March, depending on the weather, is the peak of their usual staging time in southeastern Pennsylvania. Thwarted by ice and snow farther north, the swans are here a month or more, until spring catches up to their restless urges to push north to the Arctic tundra to reproduce. And the beauty and splendor of these swans has given me many exciting and inspiring swan spectacles each late winter and early spring in Lancaster County for many years.
Two swan spectacles that happened during moonlit nights stand out most vividly in my memory. Late one sunny afternoon during the latter part of January, hundreds of tundra swans were feeding on winter rye in two inches of snow. And just after sunset, little groups of swans took flight toward the red western sky, at intervals of several minutes, whooping noisily as they flew in V's and lines. Flock after magnificent flock pumped low over the fields, heading into the sunset, the bitter wind and toward the Susquehanna River where they were going to settle for the night. As the swans continued to rise from the fields, little by little, the sunset faded and the moon rose full and beautiful, casting its reflected sunlight on the snowy fields and the birds' white feathers. The last swans in flight appeared ghostly against the darkening sky. But their shadows gliding swiftly and silently across the moon-bathed fields, indicated they were not spectres
Under another crimson sunset early in March of a more recent year, many formations of tundra swans circled several adjoining fields about seven miles north of Lancaster City. Flock after majestic flock in their noisy thousands, the swans came toward me in gatherings that stretched back to the red western horizon. As each flock passed overhead, at intervals of a few minutes, I could hear the rhythmic swishing of their great, white pinions and their vocal croaking and groaning amid the din of their boisterous trumpeting. Eventually each group swung gracefully into the wind and sailed gently to the fields to feed through the night. Meanwhile, the sunset lost its ruddy brilliance and the moon rose almost full. Still the swans came, the moonlight shining through their great wings as those noisy phantoms passed over me lying on my back in a harvested corn field.
Tundra swans only winter in Lancaster County and migrate through it in early spring. But they are sources of inspiration to anyone who experiences them. Thankfully, they return to my home county every early spring.
That happened several years ago when about 15,000 migrating tundra swans, pouring north as unstoppable from their wintering areas on the Chesapeake Bay and other points farther south as a burst dam, staged for about a month or more on shallow water among islands on the Susquehanna at Washington Boro during late winter into early spring. The swans daily fed on corn kernels in harvested corn fields and the green blades of winter rye in fields east of Washington Boro. The great, beautiful gatherings of swans made twice-daily excursions into the fields and back to the river to rest and digest, creating magnificent shows of themselves on the water, in the air and on the fields. In more recent years, however, up to 5,000 tundra swans annually stage on a 400-acre, human-made lake at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area and feed in fields in southern Lebanon County, Pennsylvania, although some swans still annually stage on the Susquehanna. And late February until sometime in March, depending on the weather, is the peak of their usual staging time in southeastern Pennsylvania. Thwarted by ice and snow farther north, the swans are here a month or more, until spring catches up to their restless urges to push north to the Arctic tundra to reproduce. And the beauty and splendor of these swans has given me many exciting and inspiring swan spectacles each late winter and early spring in Lancaster County for many years.
Two swan spectacles that happened during moonlit nights stand out most vividly in my memory. Late one sunny afternoon during the latter part of January, hundreds of tundra swans were feeding on winter rye in two inches of snow. And just after sunset, little groups of swans took flight toward the red western sky, at intervals of several minutes, whooping noisily as they flew in V's and lines. Flock after magnificent flock pumped low over the fields, heading into the sunset, the bitter wind and toward the Susquehanna River where they were going to settle for the night. As the swans continued to rise from the fields, little by little, the sunset faded and the moon rose full and beautiful, casting its reflected sunlight on the snowy fields and the birds' white feathers. The last swans in flight appeared ghostly against the darkening sky. But their shadows gliding swiftly and silently across the moon-bathed fields, indicated they were not spectres
Under another crimson sunset early in March of a more recent year, many formations of tundra swans circled several adjoining fields about seven miles north of Lancaster City. Flock after majestic flock in their noisy thousands, the swans came toward me in gatherings that stretched back to the red western horizon. As each flock passed overhead, at intervals of a few minutes, I could hear the rhythmic swishing of their great, white pinions and their vocal croaking and groaning amid the din of their boisterous trumpeting. Eventually each group swung gracefully into the wind and sailed gently to the fields to feed through the night. Meanwhile, the sunset lost its ruddy brilliance and the moon rose almost full. Still the swans came, the moonlight shining through their great wings as those noisy phantoms passed over me lying on my back in a harvested corn field.
Tundra swans only winter in Lancaster County and migrate through it in early spring. But they are sources of inspiration to anyone who experiences them. Thankfully, they return to my home county every early spring.
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