For a couple of hours yesterday, May 28, I visited a half-acre, successional wetland, closely surrounded by deciduous thickets of bushes and young trees in southeastern Pennsylvania. This swamp of shallow water and lush, green vegetation was more open and sunny with cattails and red-winged blackbirds five years and more ago. But a variety of wetland plants, both emergent and covering the edges of the water, and their annual dropping of foliage has filled in what might have been a shallow pond years ago. And some of the wildlife in this wetland reflect that succession, over the years, from pond to swamp. Little wetlands like this are uncommon habitats in southeastern Pennsylvania, but also of beauty and interest. And homes for certain aquatic creatures.
Skunk cabbage plants still grow in this wetland from the days when this area was a wooded bottomland with constantly moist soil. The large skunk cabbage leaves gather adequate sunlight in shaded woods, but those plants also adapt to more plentiful sunlight.
A few each of cattail and arrowhead plants remain from when this wetland was more open and sunny. And I saw a couple of male red-winged blackbirds around those remnant cattails as reminders of the past when cattails were prevalent here, and the place where the red-wings hatched.
Several kinds of wetland-adapted bushes and young trees lean over the shallow water from all the shorelines, and emerge from inch-deep water. This woody vegetation includes the shrubby speckled alders and red-twigged dogwoods, and red maple, silver maple and crack willow trees.
Those plants provide nesting sites for a variety of small, nesting birds, including permanent resident northern cardinals, song sparrows and American goldfinches, and summering gray catbirds, chipping sparrows, yellow warblers and common yellowthroat warblers, all of which I saw one or two of in the couple hours I visited that wetland. The cardinals and chippers are there simply because of the shrubbery to nest in. But the other species seem to prefer nesting by water as well as in bushes in woodland edges. Song sparrows and catbirds even walk and hop along narrow, muddy shores like sandpipers in search of invertebrates to eat. Yellow warblers seem attracted to willows around water and common yellowthroats like bushes near water.
All these small bird species, except goldfinches, catch invertebrates to feed their nestlings and themselves during warmer months. Algae that grows abundantly in water is part of the goldfinches' food, as well as a variety of seeds. Song sparrows, chipping sparrows and catbirds snare many invertebrates from the ground, but the rest of these birds get that same type of food from the foliage of shrubbery and trees.
I saw at least a few purple grackles reaching down with their beaks from the edges of the water and woody stems of alder shrub islands for invertebrates in the water and wet soil. A species of lawns, some grackles also act like shore birds, getting much of their food from the water's edge. These blackbirds with beautiful, iridescent-purple sheen on their black feathers have large, sharp beaks for snaring insects, spiders and other kinds of invertebrates, plus tadpoles and other aquatic creatures from shallow water. Predatory grackles help make small, inland waters come alive.
I saw a pair of tree swallows perched on twigs for a minute in that little wetland, and sweeping over it to catch and ingest flying insects. They probably have a clutch of eggs in a tree hollow in bordering woods.
Several pretty painted turtles of various sizes in that little wetland rested on emergent stubs of dead trees and a fallen log to bathe in the warming sunlight. Duckweed from the water surface was stuck to their drying shells as their body heat rose in the sunshine to the point when these cold-blooded reptiles would have the energy to hunt food and carry out other activities. These water turtles mostly feed on aquatic plants, snails, submerged insect larvae, tadpoles, dead animals and other edibles in the water.
And, although I didn't see any, I heard several male green frogs and a few male bull frogs belching and moaning respectively from the shelter of emergent plants in the shallows. Because there are no fish in the stagnant, inch-deep water of this wetland, the camouflaged frogs and their tadpoles have a better chance of survival. But I did see a green heron stalking along the shoreline in search of frogs to catch and eat or feed to its young in a stick nursery in a nearby woodland. A great blue heron will probably stalk frogs in this woodland swamp as well. And raccoons and mink probably are along this frog haven at night to catch some of those burping, groaning amphibians.
There will be a small variety of dragonflies catching flying insects over the shallow water of this wetland later in summer. At this time, however, many of them are nymphs on the bottom of the water catching and consuming tadpoles and aquatic invertebrates.
Eventually this wetland will fill in with decaying leaves and soil and succeed back to a bottomland woods as it was in the beginning. Frogs, painted turtles, dragonflies and other water creatures will have to move out of this spot. And more woodland critters will move in. But that's part of natural succession of life. Life is always changing; never stagnant.
Tuesday, May 29, 2018
Saturday, May 26, 2018
Birds Nesting in New Holland Suburbs
Several kinds of birds have adapted to nesting in suburban areas with their grassy lawns, trees and shrubbery of various sizes that people plant for the beauties of that vegetation, including here in New Holland, Pennsylvania. These birds benefit from nesting in suburbs because it increases their breeding capacity, and numbers. Some of these breeding species use more than one niche in suburban lawns; one for their nurseries and another for feeding. And we benefit because many of these species have lovely songs that we enjoy hearing and all suburban birds are interesting to experience, right at home!
The attractive American robins and American goldfinches build sturdy, easily-identifiable cradles in young trees on lawns, as they have traditionally done along the edges of woodlands. Robins catch invertebrates on the ground in lawns and fields to feed to their young and themselves. Goldfinches feed on weed and grass seeds, particularly thistle seeds, and feed a porridge of half-digested seeds to their youngsters in their nurseries.
Permanent resident northern cardinals, song sparrows and northern mockingbirds, and summering gray catbirds, all of which have beautiful songs, raise offspring in open nurseries in lawn shrubbery, as their species also do in hedgerows and woodland edges. All these species consume invertebrates from short-grass lawns, fields and bushes to feed their babies and themselves.
People plant evergreen trees for the green beauties of their needles the year around. A variety of attractive bird species regularly nest in varying -sized coniferous trees, including mourning doves, house finches, chipping sparrows, blue jays, American crows, great horned owls, Cooper's hawks and loose colonies of purple grackles. The finches and sparrows mostly hatch young in the dense foliage of young northern white cedar or arborvitae trees on lawns. Jays, crows, owls and hawks generally raise youngsters high in the taller conifers. The doves go to fields to ingest seeds and feed their young a mix of pre-digested seeds and throat mucus called "pigeons' milk". Jays and crows eat a variety of available foods, including invertebrates, while owls and hawks feed on various small vertebrates they snare in fields and suburban areas.
Several kinds of birds regularly, but sparingly, nest in tree cavities and nest boxes put out for birds to rear offspring in. These are woodland birds originally, but they adapted to living in suburbs with lots of trees as well. Downy woodpeckers chip out hollows to nest in. But Carolina chickadees, tufted titmice and house wrens nest in abandoned woodpecker holes, and bird houses erected for them to rear young in. These small, woodland species feed on invertebrates during the warmer months.
Screech owls nest in tree cavities in the suburbs. And they commute to fields to catch mice and larger insects to feed to their youngsters.
A few kinds of birds hatch offspring in crevices and shelving in and on buildings. House sparrows and starlings, which are alien birds from Eurasia and Africa, nest almost nowhere else than on buildings of various types. Native chimney swifts rear young down the inside of chimneys as they had down the insides of hollow trees. And Carolina wrens are notorious for nesting in all kinds of sheltering, built structures, including inside garages and other outbuildings, in outdoor grills and under decks and porches, as they do in stone walls, rock piles, brush piles and stacks of firewood.
And suburban areas that have ponds will host nesting mallard ducks, Canada geese, killdeer and, maybe, a few tree swallows that hatch youngsters in bird boxes, mail boxes and so on. Ducklings mostly eat invertebrates in the ponds, goslings graze on grass, killdeer babies eat invertebrates on the ground and adult tree swallows catch flying insects to feed their young.
These are some of the bird species that more regularly raise offspring in suburban areas. Their adapting to less than ideal conditions results in their maintaining higher numbers of themselves. And they make our lives more interesting and enjoyable right at home!
The attractive American robins and American goldfinches build sturdy, easily-identifiable cradles in young trees on lawns, as they have traditionally done along the edges of woodlands. Robins catch invertebrates on the ground in lawns and fields to feed to their young and themselves. Goldfinches feed on weed and grass seeds, particularly thistle seeds, and feed a porridge of half-digested seeds to their youngsters in their nurseries.
Permanent resident northern cardinals, song sparrows and northern mockingbirds, and summering gray catbirds, all of which have beautiful songs, raise offspring in open nurseries in lawn shrubbery, as their species also do in hedgerows and woodland edges. All these species consume invertebrates from short-grass lawns, fields and bushes to feed their babies and themselves.
People plant evergreen trees for the green beauties of their needles the year around. A variety of attractive bird species regularly nest in varying -sized coniferous trees, including mourning doves, house finches, chipping sparrows, blue jays, American crows, great horned owls, Cooper's hawks and loose colonies of purple grackles. The finches and sparrows mostly hatch young in the dense foliage of young northern white cedar or arborvitae trees on lawns. Jays, crows, owls and hawks generally raise youngsters high in the taller conifers. The doves go to fields to ingest seeds and feed their young a mix of pre-digested seeds and throat mucus called "pigeons' milk". Jays and crows eat a variety of available foods, including invertebrates, while owls and hawks feed on various small vertebrates they snare in fields and suburban areas.
Several kinds of birds regularly, but sparingly, nest in tree cavities and nest boxes put out for birds to rear offspring in. These are woodland birds originally, but they adapted to living in suburbs with lots of trees as well. Downy woodpeckers chip out hollows to nest in. But Carolina chickadees, tufted titmice and house wrens nest in abandoned woodpecker holes, and bird houses erected for them to rear young in. These small, woodland species feed on invertebrates during the warmer months.
Screech owls nest in tree cavities in the suburbs. And they commute to fields to catch mice and larger insects to feed to their youngsters.
A few kinds of birds hatch offspring in crevices and shelving in and on buildings. House sparrows and starlings, which are alien birds from Eurasia and Africa, nest almost nowhere else than on buildings of various types. Native chimney swifts rear young down the inside of chimneys as they had down the insides of hollow trees. And Carolina wrens are notorious for nesting in all kinds of sheltering, built structures, including inside garages and other outbuildings, in outdoor grills and under decks and porches, as they do in stone walls, rock piles, brush piles and stacks of firewood.
And suburban areas that have ponds will host nesting mallard ducks, Canada geese, killdeer and, maybe, a few tree swallows that hatch youngsters in bird boxes, mail boxes and so on. Ducklings mostly eat invertebrates in the ponds, goslings graze on grass, killdeer babies eat invertebrates on the ground and adult tree swallows catch flying insects to feed their young.
These are some of the bird species that more regularly raise offspring in suburban areas. Their adapting to less than ideal conditions results in their maintaining higher numbers of themselves. And they make our lives more interesting and enjoyable right at home!
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
History of a Meadow
Today, May 22, 2018, while driving through Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland, I stopped at a patch of cattails in a grassy meadow made golden with multitudes of buttercup blooms. I wanted to see red-winged blackbirds and whatever other creatures were among the dead stalks with dark brown seed heads of cattails from last year and their new leaves growing this summer. Several striking male red-wings were perched on swaying cattail stems to sing their territorial songs. I saw a couple of female red-wings busily going about their motherly duties. And I saw several barn swallows sweeping swiftly over the cattail stand, and the pasture in general, as they searched for flying insects to eat. But I also saw many skunk cabbage plants with their large, broad leaves flourishing under the taller cattails. I've seen skunk cabbages and cattails growing together before in sunny meadows, but it occurred to me again that this pasture, and others like it in Lancaster County have a readable history.
Skunk cabbage inhabits soggy bottomlands in woods, but adapts to sunny habitats and survives forest trees being cut away for lumber, and to clear land for European-style farming. The soil in this bottomland was too wet to plow, so it was planted long ago to grass to be a meadow to graze livestock. And because a stream has always flowed through this low point of ground, water was readily available in abundance to those same farm animals.
The presence of skunk cabbage in the low spot of that pasture, as that plant species has been since trees covered the ground, indicates the sunny meadow was carved from woods in a bottomland, probably a couple hundred years ago. But the sun-loving cattails blew in on the wind as tiny seeds. Cattail seeds that sprouted on wet ground flourished, but those that landed on drier soil perished.
The invasive, sun-adapted buttercup plants, that are originally from Eurasia, also moved into that sunny pasture on their own and quickly spread across most of the meadow, creating a scene of golden beauty. The two-foot-tall, or more, buttercup plants provide cover for wildlife above the shorter pasture grass. I saw only the heads of a pair of Canada geese who were walking through the grass and buttercups. But it wasn't until the geese walked into a patch of short grass and no buttercups did I see that they had a brood of goslings walking along between them.
I saw a pair of beautiful wood ducks in a slow stretch of the stream in that meadow. Most of the stream was concealed from view by grass, tall buttercups and taller cattails. But I did see parts of that waterway here and there. The woodies slowly drifted into view for several seconds, then floated out of view again.
Several farmers in this county erect wood duck nest boxes for wood duck females to hatch out ducklings. I know from driving by this pasture in winter that there are a couple of wood duck nest boxes in a clump of young floodplain trees, including crack willows, silver maples and red maples, that had been left to grow in recent years along the waterway in the pasture. A few each of American robins and purple grackles were in that patch of trees and the meadow, probably because they are raising young in nests among those trees.
I also saw a pair each of tree swallows and eastern kingbirds near the stand of trees in that pasture. The swallows and kingbirds were all in the meadow to catch flying insects to consume, each kind in its own way. Both those species probably were nesting among those trees, the swallows in a tree cavity or a bird box put out by a farmer and the kingbirds among the twigs of a tree in the pasture.
That meadow had much natural beauty, and some history, which made it inspiring and interesting. There are other pastures like this one here in Lancaster County, and all of them are intriguing.
Skunk cabbage inhabits soggy bottomlands in woods, but adapts to sunny habitats and survives forest trees being cut away for lumber, and to clear land for European-style farming. The soil in this bottomland was too wet to plow, so it was planted long ago to grass to be a meadow to graze livestock. And because a stream has always flowed through this low point of ground, water was readily available in abundance to those same farm animals.
The presence of skunk cabbage in the low spot of that pasture, as that plant species has been since trees covered the ground, indicates the sunny meadow was carved from woods in a bottomland, probably a couple hundred years ago. But the sun-loving cattails blew in on the wind as tiny seeds. Cattail seeds that sprouted on wet ground flourished, but those that landed on drier soil perished.
The invasive, sun-adapted buttercup plants, that are originally from Eurasia, also moved into that sunny pasture on their own and quickly spread across most of the meadow, creating a scene of golden beauty. The two-foot-tall, or more, buttercup plants provide cover for wildlife above the shorter pasture grass. I saw only the heads of a pair of Canada geese who were walking through the grass and buttercups. But it wasn't until the geese walked into a patch of short grass and no buttercups did I see that they had a brood of goslings walking along between them.
I saw a pair of beautiful wood ducks in a slow stretch of the stream in that meadow. Most of the stream was concealed from view by grass, tall buttercups and taller cattails. But I did see parts of that waterway here and there. The woodies slowly drifted into view for several seconds, then floated out of view again.
Several farmers in this county erect wood duck nest boxes for wood duck females to hatch out ducklings. I know from driving by this pasture in winter that there are a couple of wood duck nest boxes in a clump of young floodplain trees, including crack willows, silver maples and red maples, that had been left to grow in recent years along the waterway in the pasture. A few each of American robins and purple grackles were in that patch of trees and the meadow, probably because they are raising young in nests among those trees.
I also saw a pair each of tree swallows and eastern kingbirds near the stand of trees in that pasture. The swallows and kingbirds were all in the meadow to catch flying insects to consume, each kind in its own way. Both those species probably were nesting among those trees, the swallows in a tree cavity or a bird box put out by a farmer and the kingbirds among the twigs of a tree in the pasture.
That meadow had much natural beauty, and some history, which made it inspiring and interesting. There are other pastures like this one here in Lancaster County, and all of them are intriguing.
Friday, May 18, 2018
Summer Farmland Birds
Cropland is a habitat that is tough for wildlife to live in because of the annual disturbances of plowing, discing, herbicides, insecticides and harvesting crops to the ground, leaving little cover. Farmland appears barren of wildlife through all seasons, until one watches that human-made habitat more closely. Then one sees an abundance of adaptable critters in fields and meadows in all seasons, including summer. I have known that cropland just outside of New Holland in Lancaster County Pennsylvania, for example, has an abundance of wild creatures of several kinds. To prove that point, this mid-may I drove through farmland around New Holland for two hours a day in three successive days, stopping here and there to get a better experience of the surrounding wildlife.
I saw obvious flocks of American robins, purple grackles starlings, rock pigeons, mourning doves and house sparrows almost everywhere in the fields and meadows, where they were eating invertebrates and seeds. But I was looking for the not so obvious critters that I knew from past experience were also in farmland.
I saw lots of barn swallows, a few small groups of purple martins and a couple pairs of tree swallows skimming low over large fields and pastures after flying insects they catch on the wing. Barn swallows raise young in mud pellet and grass nests attached to the sides of support beams in barns and under bridges. I saw several barn swallows gathering beak-fulls of mud from one pasture trickle to build their cradles. Martins raise young in apartment bird houses erected especially for them and tree swallows fight eastern bluebird pairs to rear offspring in bird boxes in farmland.
Striking male red-winged blackbirds, with their red shoulder patches, perched on cattails and tall grasses swaying in the wind in wetter spots in sunny meadows, and repeatedly sang their "kon-ga-ree" songs. Red-wings nest in colonies because their wetland habitats are so limited in size.
Some fields and meadows had puddles of standing water in them from recent heavy rain. I checked them for nesting killdeer plovers and migrating sandpipers. I found a couple killdeer and a half dozen least sandpipers around one shallow puddle in a short-grass pasture. The plovers will probably raise chicks there, but the sandpipers will migrate north to the Arctic tundra to hatch young. I have seen other kinds of migrating shorebirds in these fields through the years.
Many acres of fields were bare of vegetation, except tiny field corn plants just starting to emerge from the soil. There I saw a few pairs each of horned larks and killdeer foraging for invertebrates in those nearly barren fields. And I know from past experience that these two species of birds will rear young in those, for now, barren corn fields.
A few bird species of special beauty and interest to me in local farmland are eastern kingbirds, Baltimore orioles and red-headed woodpeckers that summer among tall, scattered trees in meadows. These birds are alll fairly common here, but are secretive and not often seen until time is taken to watch for them. Kingbirds perch on fences and tree twigs and fly out to catch flying insects on the wing. They build cradles of twigs and grass in the forks of pasture trees. The lovely orioles forage for invertebrates among the trees and make pouch nurseries on the tips of tree limbs. And the striking woodpeckers raise young in cavities they drill into dead wood and gather invertebrates from tree branches, the grass below and dead trees.
Species of small birds nesting in thickets of young trees, shrubbery and tall grasses and weeds along country roadsides, hedgerows between fields and streambank fencing in cropland, and in certain wet spots in meadows and corners of fields, are also common here. But those birds often are difficult to spot because they hide most of the time in the sheltering thickets. One thicket of about an acre in size that I visited in a damp pasture hosted at least a few each of red-winged blackbirds, American goldfinches, song sparrows, northern cardinals and kingbirds, and at least one each of eastern bluebird, northern mockingbird, chipping sparrow and willow flycatcher. All these species consume invertebrates in summer, except the goldfinches that ingest seeds.
And one ten-acre meadow I visited that has several young trees and a few large bushes had a few red-wings in it, plus a pair of gray catbirds, cardinals, house finches and kingbirds, and a Carolina chickadee, a mockingbird and a singing male indigo bunting.
These adaptable kinds of birds keep their populations higher by nesting in human-made habitats that resemble their original ones. And we humans benefit from experiencing the beauties and intrigues of those bird species in the midst of our farming activities close to home.
I saw obvious flocks of American robins, purple grackles starlings, rock pigeons, mourning doves and house sparrows almost everywhere in the fields and meadows, where they were eating invertebrates and seeds. But I was looking for the not so obvious critters that I knew from past experience were also in farmland.
I saw lots of barn swallows, a few small groups of purple martins and a couple pairs of tree swallows skimming low over large fields and pastures after flying insects they catch on the wing. Barn swallows raise young in mud pellet and grass nests attached to the sides of support beams in barns and under bridges. I saw several barn swallows gathering beak-fulls of mud from one pasture trickle to build their cradles. Martins raise young in apartment bird houses erected especially for them and tree swallows fight eastern bluebird pairs to rear offspring in bird boxes in farmland.
Striking male red-winged blackbirds, with their red shoulder patches, perched on cattails and tall grasses swaying in the wind in wetter spots in sunny meadows, and repeatedly sang their "kon-ga-ree" songs. Red-wings nest in colonies because their wetland habitats are so limited in size.
Some fields and meadows had puddles of standing water in them from recent heavy rain. I checked them for nesting killdeer plovers and migrating sandpipers. I found a couple killdeer and a half dozen least sandpipers around one shallow puddle in a short-grass pasture. The plovers will probably raise chicks there, but the sandpipers will migrate north to the Arctic tundra to hatch young. I have seen other kinds of migrating shorebirds in these fields through the years.
Many acres of fields were bare of vegetation, except tiny field corn plants just starting to emerge from the soil. There I saw a few pairs each of horned larks and killdeer foraging for invertebrates in those nearly barren fields. And I know from past experience that these two species of birds will rear young in those, for now, barren corn fields.
A few bird species of special beauty and interest to me in local farmland are eastern kingbirds, Baltimore orioles and red-headed woodpeckers that summer among tall, scattered trees in meadows. These birds are alll fairly common here, but are secretive and not often seen until time is taken to watch for them. Kingbirds perch on fences and tree twigs and fly out to catch flying insects on the wing. They build cradles of twigs and grass in the forks of pasture trees. The lovely orioles forage for invertebrates among the trees and make pouch nurseries on the tips of tree limbs. And the striking woodpeckers raise young in cavities they drill into dead wood and gather invertebrates from tree branches, the grass below and dead trees.
Species of small birds nesting in thickets of young trees, shrubbery and tall grasses and weeds along country roadsides, hedgerows between fields and streambank fencing in cropland, and in certain wet spots in meadows and corners of fields, are also common here. But those birds often are difficult to spot because they hide most of the time in the sheltering thickets. One thicket of about an acre in size that I visited in a damp pasture hosted at least a few each of red-winged blackbirds, American goldfinches, song sparrows, northern cardinals and kingbirds, and at least one each of eastern bluebird, northern mockingbird, chipping sparrow and willow flycatcher. All these species consume invertebrates in summer, except the goldfinches that ingest seeds.
And one ten-acre meadow I visited that has several young trees and a few large bushes had a few red-wings in it, plus a pair of gray catbirds, cardinals, house finches and kingbirds, and a Carolina chickadee, a mockingbird and a singing male indigo bunting.
These adaptable kinds of birds keep their populations higher by nesting in human-made habitats that resemble their original ones. And we humans benefit from experiencing the beauties and intrigues of those bird species in the midst of our farming activities close to home.
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
Southeastern Pennsylvania Shore Birds
While watching a few pairs of American robins hunting invertebrates along a stream on the edge of a woods, I thought about the other little, food-gathering shore birds I have seen in southeastern Pennsylvania over the years. I don't mean shorebirds, including sandpipers and plovers, nor herons, gulls and others that are food-seeking bird species normally along the edges of water, but small, perching birds such as robins. These small birds don't compete much with sandpipers, gulls, herons and others for food because they search for sustenance along water where those latter birds usually don't search for food.
Song sparrows, robins and purple grackles, red-winged blackbirds, gray catbirds and American goldfinches, Louisiana waterthrushes, American pipits, swamp sparrows and winter wrens, and palm warblers, northern waterthrushes and rusty blackbirds are "song" birds that regularly and commonly get invertebrate and seed food on the shores of inland streams and ponds. All these bird species are adaptable and common. And with a little watching in habitats both natural and human-made, where these birds live at least part of their lives, one can see many of them along the edges of streams and ponds in southeastern Pennsylvania, and elsewhere.
Permanent resident and camouflaged song sparrows live the year around along small waterways that flow through thickets. There they consume invertebrates during the warmer months and seeds in the colder months. One can see song sparrows hopping and walking energetically along the muddy or gravelly shores of ponds and small waterways, like small sandpipers, as they look for food.
Song sparrows also nest along waterways, placing their grassy cradles in protecting shrubs, if there are any, or on the ground, hidden among the bases of tall grasses. I have seen song sparrow nurseries in both those niches.
Some song sparrows live permanently in niches away from water, areas dominated by tall grass, or thickets, or shrubbery on suburban lawns.
The lovely and familiar robins and grackles nest mostly on grassy, tree-dotted lawns, the robins as single pairs, mostly in deciduous bushes, and the grackles in colonies in planted, half-grown coniferous trees. Both species look for invertebrate food to feed their young, and themselves, food they get from lawns, fields and along waterways and ponds, if they are near their nesting territories. Robins run and stop along the muddy edges of ponds and streams, while grackles walk on those shores, and even in inch-deep water. Grackles also flip over dead leaves and stones along the water's edge to catch invertebrates that were hiding underneath.
Summering red-winged blackbirds, gray catbirds and American goldfinches also get much food on the shores of farmland ponds and streams. Red-wings attach their grassy nests to the stalks of cattails on the edges of ponds. Therefore, muddy pond edges are handy to red-wings.
Catbirds raise young in shrubbery, often along the edges of water. Catbirds, too, find much invertebrate food along the shores of ponds and waterways. I sometimes see red-wings and catbirds on the same mud flats in search of food at the same time.
Goldfinches, however, come to the shores of farmland ponds and waterways to eat algae. The black and bright-yellow males are vivid among the green plants and mud on the water's edge.
Louisiana waterthrushes patrol the edges of woodland streams for invertebrates. Each bird bobs and dances as it walks along the shallow, running water. I think that is a form of camouflage that mimics the bouncing of debris in the current. This species creates a nursery in crevices in stream banks.
Some camouflaged and sparrow-sized American pipits winter along brooks in farmland pastures in southeastern Pennsylvania. There they eat tiny invertebrates from the very edge of the running water.
The well-camouflaged swamp sparrows and winter wrens winter along streams in thickets and woodlands respectively. The sparrows mostly ingest seeds while the wrens catch tiny invertebrates from along the water's edges. Both species spend winter nights in protective cover near the water.
And palm warblers, northern waterthrushes and rusty blackbirds are migrant birds in this area, during April mostly. All these bird species feed on invertebrates on the ground by shallow waters in woodlands to fuel up before continuing their northbound migrations. Interestingly, palm warblers and waterthrushes have bobbing motions as they walk across the ground to get food. Like with Louisiana waterthrushes, these birds may have developed that bouncing when they evolved around running water that had objects bouncing in the currents.
These small songbirds live along inland waters where they get much of their food. They all are interesting to experience in southeastern Pennsylvania, whenever and wherever they are found.
Song sparrows, robins and purple grackles, red-winged blackbirds, gray catbirds and American goldfinches, Louisiana waterthrushes, American pipits, swamp sparrows and winter wrens, and palm warblers, northern waterthrushes and rusty blackbirds are "song" birds that regularly and commonly get invertebrate and seed food on the shores of inland streams and ponds. All these bird species are adaptable and common. And with a little watching in habitats both natural and human-made, where these birds live at least part of their lives, one can see many of them along the edges of streams and ponds in southeastern Pennsylvania, and elsewhere.
Permanent resident and camouflaged song sparrows live the year around along small waterways that flow through thickets. There they consume invertebrates during the warmer months and seeds in the colder months. One can see song sparrows hopping and walking energetically along the muddy or gravelly shores of ponds and small waterways, like small sandpipers, as they look for food.
Song sparrows also nest along waterways, placing their grassy cradles in protecting shrubs, if there are any, or on the ground, hidden among the bases of tall grasses. I have seen song sparrow nurseries in both those niches.
Some song sparrows live permanently in niches away from water, areas dominated by tall grass, or thickets, or shrubbery on suburban lawns.
The lovely and familiar robins and grackles nest mostly on grassy, tree-dotted lawns, the robins as single pairs, mostly in deciduous bushes, and the grackles in colonies in planted, half-grown coniferous trees. Both species look for invertebrate food to feed their young, and themselves, food they get from lawns, fields and along waterways and ponds, if they are near their nesting territories. Robins run and stop along the muddy edges of ponds and streams, while grackles walk on those shores, and even in inch-deep water. Grackles also flip over dead leaves and stones along the water's edge to catch invertebrates that were hiding underneath.
Summering red-winged blackbirds, gray catbirds and American goldfinches also get much food on the shores of farmland ponds and streams. Red-wings attach their grassy nests to the stalks of cattails on the edges of ponds. Therefore, muddy pond edges are handy to red-wings.
Catbirds raise young in shrubbery, often along the edges of water. Catbirds, too, find much invertebrate food along the shores of ponds and waterways. I sometimes see red-wings and catbirds on the same mud flats in search of food at the same time.
Goldfinches, however, come to the shores of farmland ponds and waterways to eat algae. The black and bright-yellow males are vivid among the green plants and mud on the water's edge.
Louisiana waterthrushes patrol the edges of woodland streams for invertebrates. Each bird bobs and dances as it walks along the shallow, running water. I think that is a form of camouflage that mimics the bouncing of debris in the current. This species creates a nursery in crevices in stream banks.
Some camouflaged and sparrow-sized American pipits winter along brooks in farmland pastures in southeastern Pennsylvania. There they eat tiny invertebrates from the very edge of the running water.
The well-camouflaged swamp sparrows and winter wrens winter along streams in thickets and woodlands respectively. The sparrows mostly ingest seeds while the wrens catch tiny invertebrates from along the water's edges. Both species spend winter nights in protective cover near the water.
And palm warblers, northern waterthrushes and rusty blackbirds are migrant birds in this area, during April mostly. All these bird species feed on invertebrates on the ground by shallow waters in woodlands to fuel up before continuing their northbound migrations. Interestingly, palm warblers and waterthrushes have bobbing motions as they walk across the ground to get food. Like with Louisiana waterthrushes, these birds may have developed that bouncing when they evolved around running water that had objects bouncing in the currents.
These small songbirds live along inland waters where they get much of their food. They all are interesting to experience in southeastern Pennsylvania, whenever and wherever they are found.
Saturday, May 12, 2018
A Delaware Bay Spectacle
The meeting of tens of thousands of Atlantic horseshoe crabs and multitudes of several kinds of north-bound, migrant shore birds on sandy and gravelly beaches in May each year is one of the greatest natural spectacles along the shores of Delaware Bay. The "crabs" are there to spawn, while the bird gatherings are there to eat crab eggs. And I have seen the great numbers of crabs and birds converge several times over the years.
The "crabs", which are not crabs, but members of the arachnid (spiders and scorpions) family of invertebrates, live along the coasts of the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. There they walk along the bottom and consume worms, small mollusks and crustaceans, and other little critters.
There are four species of horseshoe crabs in the world, three kinds along the shores of eastern Asia, and the Atlantic species. They are living fossils, having relatives back 450,000,000 years ago. Each animal has an exoskeleton shell, five pairs of legs, a long "tail" it uses to right itself if flipped over by wavelets. And it swims up-side-down, using its legs as paddles.
At high tides, during the day or night, when the moon is new or full, these crabs silently swarm onto many beaches to the high tide level from New England to Mexico. And each female of the many thousands spawns thousands of small, dull-green eggs in the wet sand. Each female is attended by one or a few males who fertilize their eggs in the sand, as wavelets wash over them. Many shore birds walk over the spawning crabs as they ingest those invertebrates' eggs. Then surviving parent crabs retreat to the water, leaving their offspring to their fate.
But the large swarms of noisy birds that gorge on horseshoe crab eggs in the sand are the most exciting part of this natural show. The most common of those birds include laughing gulls, sandpipers including dunlin, knots, turnstones, sanderlings, short-billed dowitchers and semi-palmated sandpipers, red-winged blackbirds and boat-tailed grackles. All these birds are packed together on the sandy/gravelly shoes of Delaware Bay, and elsewhere, where the crabs spawned or are spawning. These birds cause feeding frenzies, which are exciting for us to experience. They are "fueling" up on crab eggs to have the fat and energy to make the final part or their trip north to the tundra to nest. And while some shore birds are feeding frantically on the eggs, other flocks of birds are either coming to or leaving those sandy dining halls along the bay, adding to the excitement of the feeding birds. Each bird of a flock might gorge on crab eggs for a few days, then go north. But other birds coming from farther south take its place at the chow line. The comings and goings and feeding birds are too much to keep track of: It is just one big, overwhelming natural spectacle that one won't forget. It is a spectacular that gives one faith that at least some aspects of nature are still healthy and in charge of themselves; not depleted or extinct Although, over-harvesting of horseshoe crabs, if allowed to continue for fish bait and fertilizer, might negatively impact horseshoe crab populations and the numbers of the birds that depend on crab eggs to fuel up on to continue migrating north to the tundra. We need to continue to enforce laws that control horseshoe crab harvesting for any purpose, at least for awhile.
The striking gulls are the loudest and most incessant of boisterous birds of these great, shoreline gatherings. One can hear their loud, "laughing" calls, in chorus, almost anytime of day along the Atlantic coast and along back waters in from the ocean, including Delaware Bay beaches.
Over thousands of years, the sandpipers have timed their north-bound travels to arriving on the Delaware bay, and other backwaters along the northern Atlantic shore, when horseshoe crabs spawn. That way those birds get a few days of easy meals to put on fat before continuing their migrations north to raise young on the tundra of Alaska, Canada and Greenland.
These sandpipers have come far to nest on the tundra. Knots, for example, come from Tierra del Fuego of southern South America, while the semi-palms came from the coasts of Caribbean Islands and both shores of South America.
Horseshoe crabs and a variety of shoreline birds converge at high tides in May each year, the crabs to spawn and the birds to eat many crab eggs, creating an overwhelming show. Watch for when new or full moons occur in May to be able to experience the peak of horseshoe crab spawning and a variety of shoreline birds frantically feeding on many of those eggs before continuing their migrations to the Arctic tundra to nest.
The "crabs", which are not crabs, but members of the arachnid (spiders and scorpions) family of invertebrates, live along the coasts of the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. There they walk along the bottom and consume worms, small mollusks and crustaceans, and other little critters.
There are four species of horseshoe crabs in the world, three kinds along the shores of eastern Asia, and the Atlantic species. They are living fossils, having relatives back 450,000,000 years ago. Each animal has an exoskeleton shell, five pairs of legs, a long "tail" it uses to right itself if flipped over by wavelets. And it swims up-side-down, using its legs as paddles.
At high tides, during the day or night, when the moon is new or full, these crabs silently swarm onto many beaches to the high tide level from New England to Mexico. And each female of the many thousands spawns thousands of small, dull-green eggs in the wet sand. Each female is attended by one or a few males who fertilize their eggs in the sand, as wavelets wash over them. Many shore birds walk over the spawning crabs as they ingest those invertebrates' eggs. Then surviving parent crabs retreat to the water, leaving their offspring to their fate.
But the large swarms of noisy birds that gorge on horseshoe crab eggs in the sand are the most exciting part of this natural show. The most common of those birds include laughing gulls, sandpipers including dunlin, knots, turnstones, sanderlings, short-billed dowitchers and semi-palmated sandpipers, red-winged blackbirds and boat-tailed grackles. All these birds are packed together on the sandy/gravelly shoes of Delaware Bay, and elsewhere, where the crabs spawned or are spawning. These birds cause feeding frenzies, which are exciting for us to experience. They are "fueling" up on crab eggs to have the fat and energy to make the final part or their trip north to the tundra to nest. And while some shore birds are feeding frantically on the eggs, other flocks of birds are either coming to or leaving those sandy dining halls along the bay, adding to the excitement of the feeding birds. Each bird of a flock might gorge on crab eggs for a few days, then go north. But other birds coming from farther south take its place at the chow line. The comings and goings and feeding birds are too much to keep track of: It is just one big, overwhelming natural spectacle that one won't forget. It is a spectacular that gives one faith that at least some aspects of nature are still healthy and in charge of themselves; not depleted or extinct Although, over-harvesting of horseshoe crabs, if allowed to continue for fish bait and fertilizer, might negatively impact horseshoe crab populations and the numbers of the birds that depend on crab eggs to fuel up on to continue migrating north to the tundra. We need to continue to enforce laws that control horseshoe crab harvesting for any purpose, at least for awhile.
The striking gulls are the loudest and most incessant of boisterous birds of these great, shoreline gatherings. One can hear their loud, "laughing" calls, in chorus, almost anytime of day along the Atlantic coast and along back waters in from the ocean, including Delaware Bay beaches.
Over thousands of years, the sandpipers have timed their north-bound travels to arriving on the Delaware bay, and other backwaters along the northern Atlantic shore, when horseshoe crabs spawn. That way those birds get a few days of easy meals to put on fat before continuing their migrations north to raise young on the tundra of Alaska, Canada and Greenland.
These sandpipers have come far to nest on the tundra. Knots, for example, come from Tierra del Fuego of southern South America, while the semi-palms came from the coasts of Caribbean Islands and both shores of South America.
Horseshoe crabs and a variety of shoreline birds converge at high tides in May each year, the crabs to spawn and the birds to eat many crab eggs, creating an overwhelming show. Watch for when new or full moons occur in May to be able to experience the peak of horseshoe crab spawning and a variety of shoreline birds frantically feeding on many of those eggs before continuing their migrations to the Arctic tundra to nest.
Friday, May 4, 2018
Nature From Our Lawn
May 1 was the first really nice day we had so far this spring here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. After a cold April, we finally got some reasonably warm weather and clear skies. I sat on our deck and lawn now and again that day to experience the beauties of nature in our neighborhood. The flowers on our forsythia bush and weeping cherry tree were fading. But our red bud tree was near its peak of blooming while neighbors' lilac blooms were just opening. Our lawn was dotted with dandelion and blue violet flowers, while grape hyacinths and tulips bloomed in flower beds around the neighborhood.
I saw a few cabbage white butterflies fluttering among flowers, while queen carpenter bees buzzed around our wooden deck and looked for places to chew round holes in the underside of some of the wood rails to create nurseries for their larvae. Both kinds of insects hibernated through winter, but were stirred into activity by the sun's warming the landscape.
The short grass in our neighborhood was lush-green, while deciduous trees and shrubbery were getting green from their leaves beginning to grow. And with sunlight on all that new green, our neighborhood was beautiful.
I sat for awhile at our 100 gallon goldfish pond dug into the ground under our pussy willow shrub that shades the pond in summer. The vibrant colors of the goldfish and koi leisurely swimming about in the clear water were a joy to see.
As I sat here and there in the yard, I heard the songs of mourning doves, northern cardinals, American robins and a Carolina wren. Their music was as pleasant and lovely as the weather and growing vegetation. But those songs were emitted by male birds to announce their presence, establish breeding territories, intimidate rival males and attract a mate to raise young.
The usual pair of resident Carolina chickadees, and groups of resident house sparrows and summering purple grackles were in our neighborhood, where they all will nest, the chickadees in a wren box in our yard, the sparrows in crevices on houses and the grackles in conifers. And I saw other kinds of birds, including a small group of cedar waxwings in a flowering Norway maple tree where they seemed to be eating blooms of that maple. A handsome chipping sparrow and a gray catbird returned to rear offspring, in bushes or arborvitae. And I am watching for a pair of lively, vocal house wrens to return to our yard to hatch babies in a wren box.
I moved from place to place on our lawn in the evening of that same day to continue to experience the beauties and intrigues of nature. The peach-colored sunset was lovely and I saw Venus glowing brightly with reflected sunlight in the western sky in the midst of that sunset. Meanwhile, I saw a few chimney swifts zipping across the sky and about a half-dozen bats fluttering and swooping across the darkening sky a few minutes later. I was happy to see that these two species of flying creatures were back for the summer. Swifts nest down the insides of certain chimneys, and catch flying insects during the day, but bats snare flying insects at dusk and into the night.
About 10:15 that night I looked out a picture window of our house and saw Jupiter shining brightly in the southeastern sky, a few stars and our moon "rising" with an orange glow in Earth's humidity behind a mostly bare tree in the southeast. However, the big honcho, the sun, was missing. But its presence was experienced by its light bouncing off Jupiter and the moon. So there I stood looking at two planets, including the Earth that I was standing on, and the moon. It was a beautiful scene of peace in the dark that I saw out that window. And, at that moment, for some reason, I thought of the moon, planets and sun as living beings. They certainly are part of the wondrous, striking universe and life here on Earth.
Most people don't have to travel to see the beauties and wonders of nature. It is there, in abundance, almost wherever people may be.
I saw a few cabbage white butterflies fluttering among flowers, while queen carpenter bees buzzed around our wooden deck and looked for places to chew round holes in the underside of some of the wood rails to create nurseries for their larvae. Both kinds of insects hibernated through winter, but were stirred into activity by the sun's warming the landscape.
The short grass in our neighborhood was lush-green, while deciduous trees and shrubbery were getting green from their leaves beginning to grow. And with sunlight on all that new green, our neighborhood was beautiful.
I sat for awhile at our 100 gallon goldfish pond dug into the ground under our pussy willow shrub that shades the pond in summer. The vibrant colors of the goldfish and koi leisurely swimming about in the clear water were a joy to see.
As I sat here and there in the yard, I heard the songs of mourning doves, northern cardinals, American robins and a Carolina wren. Their music was as pleasant and lovely as the weather and growing vegetation. But those songs were emitted by male birds to announce their presence, establish breeding territories, intimidate rival males and attract a mate to raise young.
The usual pair of resident Carolina chickadees, and groups of resident house sparrows and summering purple grackles were in our neighborhood, where they all will nest, the chickadees in a wren box in our yard, the sparrows in crevices on houses and the grackles in conifers. And I saw other kinds of birds, including a small group of cedar waxwings in a flowering Norway maple tree where they seemed to be eating blooms of that maple. A handsome chipping sparrow and a gray catbird returned to rear offspring, in bushes or arborvitae. And I am watching for a pair of lively, vocal house wrens to return to our yard to hatch babies in a wren box.
I moved from place to place on our lawn in the evening of that same day to continue to experience the beauties and intrigues of nature. The peach-colored sunset was lovely and I saw Venus glowing brightly with reflected sunlight in the western sky in the midst of that sunset. Meanwhile, I saw a few chimney swifts zipping across the sky and about a half-dozen bats fluttering and swooping across the darkening sky a few minutes later. I was happy to see that these two species of flying creatures were back for the summer. Swifts nest down the insides of certain chimneys, and catch flying insects during the day, but bats snare flying insects at dusk and into the night.
About 10:15 that night I looked out a picture window of our house and saw Jupiter shining brightly in the southeastern sky, a few stars and our moon "rising" with an orange glow in Earth's humidity behind a mostly bare tree in the southeast. However, the big honcho, the sun, was missing. But its presence was experienced by its light bouncing off Jupiter and the moon. So there I stood looking at two planets, including the Earth that I was standing on, and the moon. It was a beautiful scene of peace in the dark that I saw out that window. And, at that moment, for some reason, I thought of the moon, planets and sun as living beings. They certainly are part of the wondrous, striking universe and life here on Earth.
Most people don't have to travel to see the beauties and wonders of nature. It is there, in abundance, almost wherever people may be.
Tuesday, May 1, 2018
Golden Carpets
Daffodil and forsythia flowers are yellow and common on many lawns in the United States, including here in southeastern Pennsylvania during April and May. But look beyond those two kinds of cultivated plants and see many species of adaptable and abundant wild vegetation, many of them originally from Europe, bearing lovely, golden blooms in those same two months. Those plants are, in arbitrary order of blooming, lesser celandines on moist, woodland floors along creeks. Dandelions and field mustards that grow and bloom on lawns, fields and roadsides. Colt's foot, trout lilies and yellow violets that sprout golden blossoms on woodland floors. And celandines that occupy some roadsides and buttercups that carpet meadows with gold. All these plants, except native trout lily and yellow violets, have long ago adapted to human activities and habitats in Eurasia, making them immediately successful when arriving in North America.
The beautiful yellow blooms of these flowering plants bring cheer and inspiration to viewers. And that bright color is highlighted and enhanced by lush grass and other green vegetation the blossoms grow among.
Fuzzy bee flies and other kinds of active-early bees and flies pollinate many of these flowers. Bee flies are restricted to deciduous woods where they are quite interesting in themselves.
Having golden, glossy blooms, lesser celandines are members of the buttercup family. This alien species forms large, yellow carpets on moist, bottomland woods along creeks and streams. And the striking blossoms of this lush, prostrate plant is enhanced by the blue flowers of grape hyacinths and blue violets.
Like American robins and American crows, dandelions are known by most everyone. This alien grows in abundance on lawns, pastures, fields and roadsides. Its yellow flowers are a bit more than an inch across and those blooms are enhanced on many lawns by the pretty, blue blossoms of blue violets. Mice and a variety of sparrows, finches and other seed-eating birds eat dandelion seeds, while wood chucks and cottontail rabbits consume the leaves, blooms and flower stems. Dandelion seeds are scattered on the wind by the fluff each one grows for that purpose.
Field mustards, also aliens, are the only tall plants in this grouping. Growing and blooming along roadsides and in fields, its pale-yellow flowers are small, but grow in clusters, making this species obvious, especially in fields of dark-green rye plants.
Alien colt's foot and native trout lilies and yellow violets all have yellow blossoms, but there their similarities end. Interestingly, colt's foot grows only along roads in woodlands. Perhaps it has adapted to disturbed soil where it's rewarded with a bit more sunlight.
Colt's foot flowers grow first, followed by their rounded leaves like a horse's hoof when the blooms go to seed. Colt's foot seeds each have a little fluff that carry it away on the wind.
Trout lilies carpet many bottomland woods with their oblong, dappled, prostrate leaves and their single bloom per plant. The flowers of this species is one of the favorites of bee flies.
Yellow violets, however, grow in little clumps and are not restricted to bottomland woods. White-tailed deer, wood chucks and cottontail rabbits in this area ingest violet leaves as part of their diets.
Celandines are the largest of these plants. They have big leaves and blooms about a half-inch across. But this alien species is mostly restricted to roadsides in rural areas.
Like lesser celandines and dandelions, common buttercups are aliens in North America, and all three species blanket whole patches of ground with their yellow flowers. But while lesser celandines bloom mostly in riparian woods in the beginning of April and dandelions blossom mostly on lawns during the second half of April, buttercups flower largely in pastures by the second week in May. Buttercups are another striking flower in abundance that bring awe and inspiration to human souls. Like dandelions in particular, they seem to be everywhere the habitat is right for them.
Get out each spring to see some of these flowering plants with the beautifully golden blossoms. They, like most of nature, are heart-warming and intriguing.
The beautiful yellow blooms of these flowering plants bring cheer and inspiration to viewers. And that bright color is highlighted and enhanced by lush grass and other green vegetation the blossoms grow among.
Fuzzy bee flies and other kinds of active-early bees and flies pollinate many of these flowers. Bee flies are restricted to deciduous woods where they are quite interesting in themselves.
Having golden, glossy blooms, lesser celandines are members of the buttercup family. This alien species forms large, yellow carpets on moist, bottomland woods along creeks and streams. And the striking blossoms of this lush, prostrate plant is enhanced by the blue flowers of grape hyacinths and blue violets.
Like American robins and American crows, dandelions are known by most everyone. This alien grows in abundance on lawns, pastures, fields and roadsides. Its yellow flowers are a bit more than an inch across and those blooms are enhanced on many lawns by the pretty, blue blossoms of blue violets. Mice and a variety of sparrows, finches and other seed-eating birds eat dandelion seeds, while wood chucks and cottontail rabbits consume the leaves, blooms and flower stems. Dandelion seeds are scattered on the wind by the fluff each one grows for that purpose.
Field mustards, also aliens, are the only tall plants in this grouping. Growing and blooming along roadsides and in fields, its pale-yellow flowers are small, but grow in clusters, making this species obvious, especially in fields of dark-green rye plants.
Alien colt's foot and native trout lilies and yellow violets all have yellow blossoms, but there their similarities end. Interestingly, colt's foot grows only along roads in woodlands. Perhaps it has adapted to disturbed soil where it's rewarded with a bit more sunlight.
Colt's foot flowers grow first, followed by their rounded leaves like a horse's hoof when the blooms go to seed. Colt's foot seeds each have a little fluff that carry it away on the wind.
Trout lilies carpet many bottomland woods with their oblong, dappled, prostrate leaves and their single bloom per plant. The flowers of this species is one of the favorites of bee flies.
Yellow violets, however, grow in little clumps and are not restricted to bottomland woods. White-tailed deer, wood chucks and cottontail rabbits in this area ingest violet leaves as part of their diets.
Celandines are the largest of these plants. They have big leaves and blooms about a half-inch across. But this alien species is mostly restricted to roadsides in rural areas.
Like lesser celandines and dandelions, common buttercups are aliens in North America, and all three species blanket whole patches of ground with their yellow flowers. But while lesser celandines bloom mostly in riparian woods in the beginning of April and dandelions blossom mostly on lawns during the second half of April, buttercups flower largely in pastures by the second week in May. Buttercups are another striking flower in abundance that bring awe and inspiration to human souls. Like dandelions in particular, they seem to be everywhere the habitat is right for them.
Get out each spring to see some of these flowering plants with the beautifully golden blossoms. They, like most of nature, are heart-warming and intriguing.
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