One warm, sunny afternoon in August of last year in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, I visited an overgrown retention basin that was filled with a variety of tall vegetation. Some of those plants were cattails, rushes, sneezeweeds with yellow flowers, swamp milkweeds that had pink blossoms and ironweeds showing pinkish-purple blooms. A variety of insects, including several common kinds of butterflies, swarmed on the attractive ironweed flowers. And some of the butterflies on the ironweed blooms were tiger and spice-bush swallowtails, monarchs, pearl crescents, a few kinds of skippers, and buckeyes. In fact, I never saw so many buckeye butterflies in one place at one time as that afternoon. There were several of them fluttering among the many ironweed blossoms at once. The ironweed flowers and buckeye butterflies together in the sunlight were beautiful, a sight not to be forgotten. And the lovely, lively buckeyes were particularly interesting to me because of their unprecedented abundance. They were the highlight of that summer day.
Why is this butterfly species called buckeyes? Buckeyes have wingspans of up to two and one half inches. Their pretty wings are mostly brown, which blend these butterflies into their backgrounds and make them nearly invisible when they are still. These butterflies also have two round spots on the upper side of each of four wings, making a total of eight "eye" spots. And one fake eye on each fore-wing, for a total of two, are particularly large and dark, looking like the eyes of deer in somebody's imagination. The "eyes" on buckeyes' wings scare away birds and other would-be predators.
Buckeyes prefer open, sunny habitats across much of the United States, but are more common in The South. They nectar on a variety of flowers in those sunny environments, and produce a few generations of themselves each year.
Buckeye caterpillars hatch from eggs laid by their mothers on their host plants. Those larvae grow to be two inches long and have dark bodies with faint, yellow lines from head to rear; colors that camouflage them. And they have spines on each segment of their long bodies. Those spines help protect the larvae from birds and other creatures that would eat them.
Buckeye larvae consume the leaves of plantain, snap dragons, Veronicas, monkey flowers and other kinds of vegetation. They change from larvae to adult butterflies in a couple of weeks in pupae of their own making. They emerge from those cocoons as winged adults ready to fly and sip sugary nectar in blossoms.
Some buckeyes that hatch in The South, colonize the northern part of the United States in summer. The last generation of buckeyes for the year in the north migrates south along the Atlantic coast in autumn. Those adults hibernate in winter in The South, and start a new generation of buckeyes the next spring. Some buckeyes going north in summer gives the species more room to lay eggs on host plants and more flowers to sip nectar from, which might increase buckeyes' numbers.
Buckeyes have a rapid flight. And males are ever on the alert to mate with females of their kind. They wait for females on the "bait" of nectar-laden blooms in summer. And male buckeyes seem quarrelsome, chasing away rival males from "their" flowers, and even pursuing other insects away from their blooms, leaving more sweet nectar for buckeyes.
This August, watch for buckeyes and other kinds of butterflies among nectar-filled blossoms in sunny habitats. Those beautiful insects have interesting life cycles. They make summer days more intriguing.
Thursday, July 26, 2018
Saturday, July 21, 2018
Ospreys and Swallows at Tilghman Island
My wife, Sue, and I parked on a boat dock by a backwater on Tilghman Island, Maryland, just off Chesapeake Bay one early evening in the beginning of August to enjoy a picnic supper in our car. It was an overcast, windy evening and we could see white caps and spray on the Chesapeake Bay caused by the strong wind. And the only birds we saw from our car in an hour's time were a pair of adult ospreys huddled low and tight in their bulky stick and twig nest on a cluster of pilings close to the dock, and several barn swallows swirling, swooping and power flying into the wind while they seemed to be catching airborne insects blown by the wind over the backwater.
The ospreys faced the wind so the wind wouldn't ruffle their feathers and were as low in their cradle as they could get to avoid being tossed about. But even so the feathers on their necks, wings and backs were tugged by the wind so hard I thought they would be torn from the living birds.
Meanwhile, the swallows were entertaining flying high and low, and nonchalantly into the wind, and swinging swiftly around with it, without once colliding with one another. Even then they had excellent flight control that was impressive, and entertaining to us as we dined in a wind-rocked car.
Both the ospreys and barn swallows responded to the high winds with, seemingly, little concern; maybe even with a sense of adventure. After all, they are used to all kinds of weather and adverse conditions and took the wind "in stride".
Tilghman Island and the St. Michael's area are on a peninsula that juts west, then curves south into the Chesapeake Bay from the city of Easton on Maryland's Eastern Shore. This peninsula is bordered on the north by Miles River, Chesapeake Bay to the west and the broad Choptank River to the south. The peninsula is flat and covered with deciduous woods, corn fields and soybean fields, with hedgerows of trees, bushes and vines separating many of the fields. There also are wetlands along some backwater shorelines, tiny villages and scattered homes on the peninsula, which offer other kinds of wildlife habitats, and lovely, peaceful scenery.
Ospreys commonly nest on this peninsula for a variety of reasons. First, for whatever reason, there are few bald eagles in this section of the Chesapeake. Ospreys don't nest where bald eagles are because the eagles are bigger and stronger than ospreys and usurp osprey nurseries and rob the weaker birds of their fish prey, their only source of food.
Secondly, ospreys have adapted to using buoys, clustered pilings, and platforms especially erected for ospreys to nest on, all of which are on or above the water in backwaters. Those built structures have greatly increased osprey numbers along this peninsula. Someone estimated that 97 percent of today's ospreys nest on artificial structures. And the Chesapeake Bay, in spite of its past water quality problems, now has the largest breeding population of ospreys in the world. Ospreys have adapted to human activities and are not afraid to raise young near those activities. Ospreys being protected from shooting and trapping has also increased their boldness and numbers.
Ospreys are entertaining when hunting fish over larger bodies of water. They flap and soar over a lake or river, while watching the water for larger fish. When a vulnerable fish is noticed near the surface of the water, an osprey folds its wings and dives to the surface to grab the fish in its curved, pointed talons, partly submerging into the water upon impact. Within seconds, however, the osprey rises from the water, often with its victim in its claws, and flies heavily with its burden to a tree, boulder or other object to eat its prey.
Ospreys and barn swallows are in the northern United States only during the warmer months to raise young. Barn swallows are common on this peninsula, as they are throughout much of North America, because most of them today rear offspring in barns and under bridges and docks. By fall, both species migrate south where they find reliable sources of food, but next spring they push north again, and entertain us with their daily activities.
The ospreys faced the wind so the wind wouldn't ruffle their feathers and were as low in their cradle as they could get to avoid being tossed about. But even so the feathers on their necks, wings and backs were tugged by the wind so hard I thought they would be torn from the living birds.
Meanwhile, the swallows were entertaining flying high and low, and nonchalantly into the wind, and swinging swiftly around with it, without once colliding with one another. Even then they had excellent flight control that was impressive, and entertaining to us as we dined in a wind-rocked car.
Both the ospreys and barn swallows responded to the high winds with, seemingly, little concern; maybe even with a sense of adventure. After all, they are used to all kinds of weather and adverse conditions and took the wind "in stride".
Tilghman Island and the St. Michael's area are on a peninsula that juts west, then curves south into the Chesapeake Bay from the city of Easton on Maryland's Eastern Shore. This peninsula is bordered on the north by Miles River, Chesapeake Bay to the west and the broad Choptank River to the south. The peninsula is flat and covered with deciduous woods, corn fields and soybean fields, with hedgerows of trees, bushes and vines separating many of the fields. There also are wetlands along some backwater shorelines, tiny villages and scattered homes on the peninsula, which offer other kinds of wildlife habitats, and lovely, peaceful scenery.
Ospreys commonly nest on this peninsula for a variety of reasons. First, for whatever reason, there are few bald eagles in this section of the Chesapeake. Ospreys don't nest where bald eagles are because the eagles are bigger and stronger than ospreys and usurp osprey nurseries and rob the weaker birds of their fish prey, their only source of food.
Secondly, ospreys have adapted to using buoys, clustered pilings, and platforms especially erected for ospreys to nest on, all of which are on or above the water in backwaters. Those built structures have greatly increased osprey numbers along this peninsula. Someone estimated that 97 percent of today's ospreys nest on artificial structures. And the Chesapeake Bay, in spite of its past water quality problems, now has the largest breeding population of ospreys in the world. Ospreys have adapted to human activities and are not afraid to raise young near those activities. Ospreys being protected from shooting and trapping has also increased their boldness and numbers.
Ospreys are entertaining when hunting fish over larger bodies of water. They flap and soar over a lake or river, while watching the water for larger fish. When a vulnerable fish is noticed near the surface of the water, an osprey folds its wings and dives to the surface to grab the fish in its curved, pointed talons, partly submerging into the water upon impact. Within seconds, however, the osprey rises from the water, often with its victim in its claws, and flies heavily with its burden to a tree, boulder or other object to eat its prey.
Ospreys and barn swallows are in the northern United States only during the warmer months to raise young. Barn swallows are common on this peninsula, as they are throughout much of North America, because most of them today rear offspring in barns and under bridges and docks. By fall, both species migrate south where they find reliable sources of food, but next spring they push north again, and entertain us with their daily activities.
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Aquatic Life in Trickles
Yesterday I stopped at a shallow, two-foot-wide trickle of clear, cold water running a few feet from, and parallel to the farmland road I was on in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. I stopped because I saw a few male black-winged damselflies fluttering buoyantly together in a streak of sunlight, surrounded by shade, above the tiny waterway. And I wanted to experience animal life in a rivulet in local cropland. This trickle was lined on both sides by jewelweed and grass, and shaded by a row of willow trees planted on the other side of the rivulet from the road in an agricultural area.
Several male black-winged damselflies were along a 50 yard stretch of that tiny waterway, and each one was handsome with his four black wings and iridescent-green abdomen that glistened in the sunlight. Those males seemed to be dancing among themselves over the water, but were really displaying their qualities to other males of their kind to see those rivals off "their" part of the waterway. Winning males have the right to mate with any female that comes into their respective territories. Each damselfly has its favorite perches on plant leaves hanging over the water where each one watches for potential rivals and mates to come along in flight. Each damselfly stays right along its birth brook during its adult life and spawning in its rivulet.
Female black-winged damselflies are a bit thinner and not as brightly colored as the males, which camouflages them better. And each female has a tiny, white dot on top of each wing, all of which are held upright.
While watching the male and female damselflies flutter daintily like butterflies, I saw a little school of black-nosed dace (minnow-like fish) swimming as a group in each one of several deeper, slower-current "holes" in the rivulet. Dace like those holes so they have easier swimming into the current while expending less energy to do so.
Dace are up to two inches long and brown on top, which blends them into the mud or gravel on the bottom of a waterway. They have long, stream-lined bodies for easier passage into currents of water. And each dace has a black stripe along the length of each flank, from nose to tail. Breeding males in June have orange fins and an orange stripe along each side, paralleling the black one.
Both living in habitats of cold, clear water, damselfly nymphs and dace have characteristics in common. Both species were born in small waterways and are brown when living in the water, which camouflages them. Each kind developed ways to deal with constant currents. Dace are streamlined, and damselfly larvae are flat to hide under stones on stream bottoms. Dace and damselfly larvae feed on tiny invertebrates, the dace in mid-stream and damselfly nymphs on mayfly larvae, for example, on stony bottoms. Adult damselflies, however, catch flying insects over the water.
Damselfly larvae have four stages of development in their lifetime. They hatch from eggs among stones on the bottom of cold, clear brooks and rivulets. They feed on invertebrates while they are larvae under the gravel, they metamorphosis and emerge as winged adults ready to fly. They, and many other kinds of insects, pass through those four stages of life so the adults have wings to be able to travel much farther than they could as larvae to find food and mates.
Dace and damselflies are preyed on by other kinds of animals. Dace are eaten by trout, if present, northern water snakes, belted kingfishers and green-backed herons, while their eggs are consumed by crayfish, aquatic salamanders and damselfly nymphs. The larvae of damselflies are ingested by crayfish, aquatic salamanders, and trout, if present. Some adult damselflies are eaten by small birds and dragonflies.
Black-winged damselflies and black-nosed dace have much in common. They are striking, interesting creatures that live in small waterways, including here in Lancaster County cropland.
Several male black-winged damselflies were along a 50 yard stretch of that tiny waterway, and each one was handsome with his four black wings and iridescent-green abdomen that glistened in the sunlight. Those males seemed to be dancing among themselves over the water, but were really displaying their qualities to other males of their kind to see those rivals off "their" part of the waterway. Winning males have the right to mate with any female that comes into their respective territories. Each damselfly has its favorite perches on plant leaves hanging over the water where each one watches for potential rivals and mates to come along in flight. Each damselfly stays right along its birth brook during its adult life and spawning in its rivulet.
Female black-winged damselflies are a bit thinner and not as brightly colored as the males, which camouflages them better. And each female has a tiny, white dot on top of each wing, all of which are held upright.
While watching the male and female damselflies flutter daintily like butterflies, I saw a little school of black-nosed dace (minnow-like fish) swimming as a group in each one of several deeper, slower-current "holes" in the rivulet. Dace like those holes so they have easier swimming into the current while expending less energy to do so.
Dace are up to two inches long and brown on top, which blends them into the mud or gravel on the bottom of a waterway. They have long, stream-lined bodies for easier passage into currents of water. And each dace has a black stripe along the length of each flank, from nose to tail. Breeding males in June have orange fins and an orange stripe along each side, paralleling the black one.
Both living in habitats of cold, clear water, damselfly nymphs and dace have characteristics in common. Both species were born in small waterways and are brown when living in the water, which camouflages them. Each kind developed ways to deal with constant currents. Dace are streamlined, and damselfly larvae are flat to hide under stones on stream bottoms. Dace and damselfly larvae feed on tiny invertebrates, the dace in mid-stream and damselfly nymphs on mayfly larvae, for example, on stony bottoms. Adult damselflies, however, catch flying insects over the water.
Damselfly larvae have four stages of development in their lifetime. They hatch from eggs among stones on the bottom of cold, clear brooks and rivulets. They feed on invertebrates while they are larvae under the gravel, they metamorphosis and emerge as winged adults ready to fly. They, and many other kinds of insects, pass through those four stages of life so the adults have wings to be able to travel much farther than they could as larvae to find food and mates.
Dace and damselflies are preyed on by other kinds of animals. Dace are eaten by trout, if present, northern water snakes, belted kingfishers and green-backed herons, while their eggs are consumed by crayfish, aquatic salamanders and damselfly nymphs. The larvae of damselflies are ingested by crayfish, aquatic salamanders, and trout, if present. Some adult damselflies are eaten by small birds and dragonflies.
Black-winged damselflies and black-nosed dace have much in common. They are striking, interesting creatures that live in small waterways, including here in Lancaster County cropland.
Friday, July 13, 2018
Some Opportunistic Wildlife
Toward the end of June of this year, I was watching the two young bald eagles in their large, stick nest near Washington D. C. via our computer. I saw a dragonfly repeatedly perch on a twig in the bald eagle nursery, zip over that cradle in a tulip tree and return to its twig. I think that dragonfly was attempting to catch, with some success I'm sure, flies that were attracted to meat scraps in the eagle nursery. While watching the young eagles and the dragonfly, I thought about the other creatures I saw over the years taking advantage of situations that benefited them, and were interesting to me.
While watching great horned owl, red-tailed hawk, bald eagle and osprey young, and their parents, in their bulky nests, by computer, I see several flies buzzing around in those raptor nurseries because of the meat and fish bits and dead critters lying in those cradles until the scraps are eaten. Those flies are there to lay eggs on the dead meat and fish. Maggots hatch from those fly eggs, with the intent of consuming the meat and fish left over from feeding young owls, hawks, eagles and ospreys. But some of the adult flies are eaten by spiders and small birds that are attracted to raptor cradles. Those arachnids and small birds are not bothered by the raptors because they are too small to be of any interest to those large birds of prey.
Also when watching raptor nests, it's amusing to see house sparrows and/or starlings fly in and out of crevices between sticks in the cradle structures. These two kinds of little birds, originally from Europe, have young tucked in those openings and are regularly in and out of them to feed their babies. That may seem like risky business, but, again, these birds are too small to prey on.
I remember several years ago seeing an adult green frog sitting on the muddy shore of a sluggish stream and closely facing a dead fish. Curious as to what that frog was doing, I looked at it with binoculars. The frog was using its long, sticky tongue, that is attached to the front of its mouth, to snare flies off the dead fish and flip them into the back of its mouth for swallowing. That frog found a bonanza of flies and was taking full advantage of it until it was stuffed with those insects.
Over the years, people have asked me why bats sometimes swoop close to peoples' heads during summer evenings. I don't know why they do, but I have theory that makes sense to me. People wearing perfume, deodorant or hair spray smell sweet, like flowers. Insects might mistake those artificially sweet scents for blossoms and are drawn to those smells to sip sweet-smelling nectar. And through their echolocation, the bats sense the flying insects around the peoples' heads and swoop down for a meal of insects that they grab in their toothy mouths. The bats are merely taking advantage of a bounty of food; they are not interested in the people.
Laughing gulls, those abundant, black-headed gulls that utter raucous "laughter" along the Atlantic seacoast in summer, take advantage of many human-made food sources. Having evolved to scavenging edibles along ocean beaches and in salt marshes, they are also adapted to eating peanuts, popcorn and other "human" foods that folks leave lying about on beaches and boardwalks, or feed to laughing gulls for the peoples' entertainment. The adaptable, omnipresent laughing gulls take full advantage of any food source, natural or human-made.
Chimney swifts, eastern phoebes, rough-winged swallows and killdeer plovers hatch young in human-made niches, which has increased the populations of each of these small birds.
Swifts migrate into eastern North America to hatch young on twig platforms down the inside of chimneys, as they had down the inside of hollow trees. Swifts use their saliva to glue the twigs to the sheer walls of chimneys and feed flying insects to their young.
Phoebes build mud and moss nurseries on rock ledges, under overhanging boulders, near water in woods. And they also raise offspring on supporting beams (rock ledges), under porches and small bridges (overhanging boulders) near water in woods. They also feed flying insects to their chicks.
Rough-wings rear babies in abandoned kingfisher holes in stream burrows, or in holes they dig themselves. But they also hatch youngsters in drainage pipes that extend over waterways and impoundments. They, too, feed flying insects to their progeny.
And killdeer hatch young on gravelly shores of inland waterways and impoundments; and on gravel driveways, parking lots, railroad beds and flat roofs. They and their precocious young eat a variety of invertebrates.
These are examples of wildlife in the Middle Atlantic States taking advantage of human-made niches to the creatures' benefit. There are many, many other examples the world over.
While watching great horned owl, red-tailed hawk, bald eagle and osprey young, and their parents, in their bulky nests, by computer, I see several flies buzzing around in those raptor nurseries because of the meat and fish bits and dead critters lying in those cradles until the scraps are eaten. Those flies are there to lay eggs on the dead meat and fish. Maggots hatch from those fly eggs, with the intent of consuming the meat and fish left over from feeding young owls, hawks, eagles and ospreys. But some of the adult flies are eaten by spiders and small birds that are attracted to raptor cradles. Those arachnids and small birds are not bothered by the raptors because they are too small to be of any interest to those large birds of prey.
Also when watching raptor nests, it's amusing to see house sparrows and/or starlings fly in and out of crevices between sticks in the cradle structures. These two kinds of little birds, originally from Europe, have young tucked in those openings and are regularly in and out of them to feed their babies. That may seem like risky business, but, again, these birds are too small to prey on.
I remember several years ago seeing an adult green frog sitting on the muddy shore of a sluggish stream and closely facing a dead fish. Curious as to what that frog was doing, I looked at it with binoculars. The frog was using its long, sticky tongue, that is attached to the front of its mouth, to snare flies off the dead fish and flip them into the back of its mouth for swallowing. That frog found a bonanza of flies and was taking full advantage of it until it was stuffed with those insects.
Over the years, people have asked me why bats sometimes swoop close to peoples' heads during summer evenings. I don't know why they do, but I have theory that makes sense to me. People wearing perfume, deodorant or hair spray smell sweet, like flowers. Insects might mistake those artificially sweet scents for blossoms and are drawn to those smells to sip sweet-smelling nectar. And through their echolocation, the bats sense the flying insects around the peoples' heads and swoop down for a meal of insects that they grab in their toothy mouths. The bats are merely taking advantage of a bounty of food; they are not interested in the people.
Laughing gulls, those abundant, black-headed gulls that utter raucous "laughter" along the Atlantic seacoast in summer, take advantage of many human-made food sources. Having evolved to scavenging edibles along ocean beaches and in salt marshes, they are also adapted to eating peanuts, popcorn and other "human" foods that folks leave lying about on beaches and boardwalks, or feed to laughing gulls for the peoples' entertainment. The adaptable, omnipresent laughing gulls take full advantage of any food source, natural or human-made.
Chimney swifts, eastern phoebes, rough-winged swallows and killdeer plovers hatch young in human-made niches, which has increased the populations of each of these small birds.
Swifts migrate into eastern North America to hatch young on twig platforms down the inside of chimneys, as they had down the inside of hollow trees. Swifts use their saliva to glue the twigs to the sheer walls of chimneys and feed flying insects to their young.
Phoebes build mud and moss nurseries on rock ledges, under overhanging boulders, near water in woods. And they also raise offspring on supporting beams (rock ledges), under porches and small bridges (overhanging boulders) near water in woods. They also feed flying insects to their chicks.
Rough-wings rear babies in abandoned kingfisher holes in stream burrows, or in holes they dig themselves. But they also hatch youngsters in drainage pipes that extend over waterways and impoundments. They, too, feed flying insects to their progeny.
And killdeer hatch young on gravelly shores of inland waterways and impoundments; and on gravel driveways, parking lots, railroad beds and flat roofs. They and their precocious young eat a variety of invertebrates.
These are examples of wildlife in the Middle Atlantic States taking advantage of human-made niches to the creatures' benefit. There are many, many other examples the world over.
Monday, July 9, 2018
Party Animals
My wife and I attended an outdoor deck party in a suburb of northern Chester County, Pennsylvania on the eve of July 6 of this year. The weather was perfect; sunny, with temperatures in the 70's and low humidity. And almost immediately upon stepping onto the deck around 7:00 pm, all the guests were treated to entertainment provided by five species of wildlife visible and/or audible from that porch.
We saw an eastern phoebe tail-pumping on a wire fence on the lawn as it watched for flying insects to grab in its beak in mid-air. Our host told us that a pair of phoebes had a mud and moss nest on top of an electric box under the deck. Phoebes traditionally nest on rock ledges under overhanging boulders near streams or ponds in woodlands in much of eastern North America. But to that adaptable pair of phoebes the box was a rock ledge under an overhanging deck near a 200 gallon goldfish pond near the deck and a woodland at the end of the lawn.
Many other adaptable pairs of phoebes raise young in similar, human-made niches, including on support beams under little bridges and cabin porch roofs near water in woods. Phoebes have increased their breeding potential, and numbers, by hatching offspring in built habitats.
At the same time, the goldfish pond was alive with a few each of male green frogs and two-inch-long gray tree frogs, all of which were calling incessantly and loudly, providing much entertainment to the human guests. The male green frogs, two of which were visible to us, gulped, belched and twanged raucously. But the male gray tree frogs, none of which were visible, sang short, rapidly-rolling trills that were beautiful and interesting to listen to.
Green frogs are common almost wherever there are ponds, puddles and slow streams in meadows in much of the eastern United States. And I have heard green frogs croaking amid many backyard goldfish ponds in southeastern Pennsylvania where I live. Green frogs travel over fields and pastures on rainy or dewy summer nights and find various bodies of water in that way. And they spawn in those watery habitats, including goldfish ponds, in mid-summer.
Gray tree frogs are uncommon in this area. I have heard them trilling musically only a few times in my life, including from that deck on July 6th. They were a real treat for me to hear that evening in July, partly because I never heard them call from the vicinity of a goldfish pond on a lawn.
Soon after sunset, thousands of male fireflies, each one blinking his cold, abdominal lantern, rose from the short grass of the lawn and floor of the bordering woods. Each male flew slowly, and upright like a helicopter, still flashing his silent beacon every couple of seconds. Before long, the lawn and woodland were enchanted by the magical, winking lights from firefly multitudes that looked like neon signs in the trees as the sky gradually darkened.
A few bats, silhouetted strikingly before the red, but fading sunset, zig-zagged and swooped over the lawn in hot pursuit of flying insects to catch and eat. Bats flying at dusk offer a little excitement to many lawns in southeastern Pennsylvania, as elsewhere throughout the world. Using their excellent hearing to pick up incoming echos from their outgoing squeaking, the bats "see" objects and flying insects around them, avoiding obstacles and finding meals in the darkness of dusk and night. That form of bat radar is intriguing to us.
Nature can be enjoyed most anytime, anywhere, even at a party. Stay alert wherever you may be for the intrigues and beauties of nature.
We saw an eastern phoebe tail-pumping on a wire fence on the lawn as it watched for flying insects to grab in its beak in mid-air. Our host told us that a pair of phoebes had a mud and moss nest on top of an electric box under the deck. Phoebes traditionally nest on rock ledges under overhanging boulders near streams or ponds in woodlands in much of eastern North America. But to that adaptable pair of phoebes the box was a rock ledge under an overhanging deck near a 200 gallon goldfish pond near the deck and a woodland at the end of the lawn.
Many other adaptable pairs of phoebes raise young in similar, human-made niches, including on support beams under little bridges and cabin porch roofs near water in woods. Phoebes have increased their breeding potential, and numbers, by hatching offspring in built habitats.
At the same time, the goldfish pond was alive with a few each of male green frogs and two-inch-long gray tree frogs, all of which were calling incessantly and loudly, providing much entertainment to the human guests. The male green frogs, two of which were visible to us, gulped, belched and twanged raucously. But the male gray tree frogs, none of which were visible, sang short, rapidly-rolling trills that were beautiful and interesting to listen to.
Green frogs are common almost wherever there are ponds, puddles and slow streams in meadows in much of the eastern United States. And I have heard green frogs croaking amid many backyard goldfish ponds in southeastern Pennsylvania where I live. Green frogs travel over fields and pastures on rainy or dewy summer nights and find various bodies of water in that way. And they spawn in those watery habitats, including goldfish ponds, in mid-summer.
Gray tree frogs are uncommon in this area. I have heard them trilling musically only a few times in my life, including from that deck on July 6th. They were a real treat for me to hear that evening in July, partly because I never heard them call from the vicinity of a goldfish pond on a lawn.
Soon after sunset, thousands of male fireflies, each one blinking his cold, abdominal lantern, rose from the short grass of the lawn and floor of the bordering woods. Each male flew slowly, and upright like a helicopter, still flashing his silent beacon every couple of seconds. Before long, the lawn and woodland were enchanted by the magical, winking lights from firefly multitudes that looked like neon signs in the trees as the sky gradually darkened.
A few bats, silhouetted strikingly before the red, but fading sunset, zig-zagged and swooped over the lawn in hot pursuit of flying insects to catch and eat. Bats flying at dusk offer a little excitement to many lawns in southeastern Pennsylvania, as elsewhere throughout the world. Using their excellent hearing to pick up incoming echos from their outgoing squeaking, the bats "see" objects and flying insects around them, avoiding obstacles and finding meals in the darkness of dusk and night. That form of bat radar is intriguing to us.
Nature can be enjoyed most anytime, anywhere, even at a party. Stay alert wherever you may be for the intrigues and beauties of nature.
Friday, July 6, 2018
Lovely Creations
The afternoon of July 5, 2018, in and around New Holland, Pennsylvania, was hot, but beautiful, with blue skies patched with white, puffy, cumulus clouds, sunshine, and lots of green vegetation in suburbs, fields and distant wooden hills. I drove south out of New Holland along South Kinzer Avenue that afternoon to enjoy the countryside scenery, as I have often done in the past. I left the town's tree-dotted, suburban lawns and saw green fields, green, wooded hills and blue sky unfolding before me. I had to stop the car a few minutes and stare because the peaceful scenery before me was so beautiful that I felt I was looking at God, or at least his works! This has happened to me before, now and again, at any time of year, always unexpectantly, because of scenery so lovely as to take "my breath away". There is great beauty even in habitats impacted by peoples' works.
Continuing on for only two miles, one way, in that countryside on July 5th, I crossed a couple of lovely, clear streams sliding through meadows and thickets. A few red-winged blackbirds fluttered among tall grasses along one waterway, while a great blue heron stalked minnows in another.
Driving on, I passed thickets of planted cranberry viburnum bushes and other shrubbery, and young trees in a had-been pasture, a 20 acre grove of planted red juniper trees standing over tall grass and a grove of large oak trees used as a picnic area. All these habitats were pretty, but I saw little wildlife in them.
But when I came to two farmland meadows, one across the rural road from the other, I saw a handful of interesting summer birds that nest in those pastures, each dotted with large white oak, red maple and black walnut trees. I stopped off the road in the shade of a large walnut to check the meadows for wildlife.
With binoculars, I soon saw a pair of striking red-headed woodpeckers with bright red heads and a northern flicker among dead limbs in the large, live trees. There those birds hunt invertebrates; in dead wood, on the trees and from the ground; and nest in hollows they chip from dead wood. Flickers mostly eat ants from ant hills in the ground. And their feathering is mostly brown, which blends them into grass and soil on the ground for their protection.
I also saw a pair of stunning eastern bluebirds and a family of trim-looking tree swallows, both species of which were perched on wire fences along the road. Each of these species probably nested in abandoned woodpecker holes drilled into dead wood. And both species ingest invertebrates during warmer months. Bluebirds perch on tree twigs and fences to watch for insects in the air and on vegetation and the ground. Tree swallows, however, catch flying insects in mid-air, sweeping and diving across fields and meadows to snare their prey in their large mouths.
A pair of eastern kingbirds also perched on that wire fence, but farther down the road from the bluebirds and tree swallows. Handsome in white "shirt" and dark "jackets", the kingbirds, like bluebirds, hustle out from perches to catch flying insects, then flutter back to their perch to ingest their victims and watch for more. Kingbirds hatch young in grass and twig nurseries on top of forking twigs in lone trees in pastures and fields.
And at the end of that two-mile trip, I came upon a field of planted, young spruce trees, surrounded by red clover, Queen-Anne-lace and chicory plants. The red clover had pink blossoms, the 'lace had white ones, but the chicory was not blooming because they only flower in the morning during mid-summer. But they have the prettiest flowers of all these three alien species originally from Eurasia. Their blossoms are blue as a clear sky, and the pink, white and blue blooms make fields like this striking with blooming flowers. They are a joy to see; more of God's creations.
Readers can also see beautiful scenery like this. Just get outside, almost wherever you happen to be and look around for God's lovely creations.
Continuing on for only two miles, one way, in that countryside on July 5th, I crossed a couple of lovely, clear streams sliding through meadows and thickets. A few red-winged blackbirds fluttered among tall grasses along one waterway, while a great blue heron stalked minnows in another.
Driving on, I passed thickets of planted cranberry viburnum bushes and other shrubbery, and young trees in a had-been pasture, a 20 acre grove of planted red juniper trees standing over tall grass and a grove of large oak trees used as a picnic area. All these habitats were pretty, but I saw little wildlife in them.
But when I came to two farmland meadows, one across the rural road from the other, I saw a handful of interesting summer birds that nest in those pastures, each dotted with large white oak, red maple and black walnut trees. I stopped off the road in the shade of a large walnut to check the meadows for wildlife.
With binoculars, I soon saw a pair of striking red-headed woodpeckers with bright red heads and a northern flicker among dead limbs in the large, live trees. There those birds hunt invertebrates; in dead wood, on the trees and from the ground; and nest in hollows they chip from dead wood. Flickers mostly eat ants from ant hills in the ground. And their feathering is mostly brown, which blends them into grass and soil on the ground for their protection.
I also saw a pair of stunning eastern bluebirds and a family of trim-looking tree swallows, both species of which were perched on wire fences along the road. Each of these species probably nested in abandoned woodpecker holes drilled into dead wood. And both species ingest invertebrates during warmer months. Bluebirds perch on tree twigs and fences to watch for insects in the air and on vegetation and the ground. Tree swallows, however, catch flying insects in mid-air, sweeping and diving across fields and meadows to snare their prey in their large mouths.
A pair of eastern kingbirds also perched on that wire fence, but farther down the road from the bluebirds and tree swallows. Handsome in white "shirt" and dark "jackets", the kingbirds, like bluebirds, hustle out from perches to catch flying insects, then flutter back to their perch to ingest their victims and watch for more. Kingbirds hatch young in grass and twig nurseries on top of forking twigs in lone trees in pastures and fields.
And at the end of that two-mile trip, I came upon a field of planted, young spruce trees, surrounded by red clover, Queen-Anne-lace and chicory plants. The red clover had pink blossoms, the 'lace had white ones, but the chicory was not blooming because they only flower in the morning during mid-summer. But they have the prettiest flowers of all these three alien species originally from Eurasia. Their blossoms are blue as a clear sky, and the pink, white and blue blooms make fields like this striking with blooming flowers. They are a joy to see; more of God's creations.
Readers can also see beautiful scenery like this. Just get outside, almost wherever you happen to be and look around for God's lovely creations.
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