Waterfowl Wintering in a Cove

     During at least one afternoon every November or early December, for the last several years, I visit a little, shallow-water cove on the west shore of the 400-acre, human-made impoundment at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area in southeastern Pennsylvania to view a few common species of wintering waterfowl, including flocks of Canada geese, tundra swans, black ducks and mallard ducks.  Those kinds of birds rest and digest, and preen their feathers, between feeding forays, either in mixed groups or gatherings of their own.  That mixing of waterfowl creates interesting and lovely combinations of colors, shapes and sizes on the water.  And all those birds "tip-up" to extend their necks and beaks down to ingest aquatic vegetation from the bottom. 
     I sit in my vehicle on a blacktop road that tightly parallels that lake so I can get close views of the attractive geese, swans and ducks, without scaring them away.  Most types of wildlife are frightened by the human figure.
     I pick November or December, before hordes of snow geese land on Middle Creek's impoundment and dominate it.  It's difficult to concentrate on lesser numbers of waterfowl when several tens of thousands of snow geese are on the lake and nearby fields.
     The shallow cove is bordered on two sides by crack willow trees, patches of cattails and rushes, a few red-twigged dogwood bushes and a couple of winterberry shrubs, profusely decorated with red berries.  That vegetation of moist bottomlands provide food and cover to a variety of wildlife in winter, including mukrats, white-tailed deer and a variety of berry-eating birds.
     The majestic Canada geese often dominate the cove with their ceaseless, loud honking, and numbers.  They have gray feathering on their large bodies, and black ones on their heads and long necks, making those features resemble black stockings.                  
     Elegant and white tundra swans sometimes dominate the cove, either themselves or together with the Canadas.  Both stately species rest on the water, but take off, flock after bugling or reedily whooping flock, into the wind and form V's and long lines as they fly to harvested corn fields to consume harvested corn or to winter rye fields to ingest the green shoots of winter rye plants. 
     Often the geese and swans are beautifully silhouetted against brilliant sunsets.  And sometimes they land on snow covered fields and disappear in and out of drifting snow, tinged pink by sunsets.  
     When full of grain and green shoots, those large birds fly back to Middle Creek's lake, group after group, and come in for a landing on the water's surface with webbed feet and long necks extended, their reflections racing through the water to meet their impacts on it.
     The dark, rugged-looking black ducks wind through groups of geese and swans in the cove, offering interesting contrasts in colors and sizes.  These large puddle ducks, along with their close cousins, the mallards, join geese and swans in harvested corn fields to shovel up waste corn.  There the geese, swans and ducks form beautiful, mixed groups.  Mallard hens are brown with darker markings that blends them into their backgrounds so they're not so visible to predators.  Mallard drakes, on the other hand, are more decorative than their mates, with yellow beaks, iridescent, green heads and bright orange webbed feet.      
     When these two kinds of ducks take flight from water or soil, one can hear their wings pulsing rapidly and rythmically, and a hen's occasional quacking.  Look up quickly, and you might see gangs of these ducks sweeping across the sky, often in front of brilliant sunsets.
     Though common and everyday in southeastern Pennsylvania in winter, I never tire of seeing these beautiful birds, through the day, or at dusk.  They are all handsome, and add much beauty and intrigue to this area's farmland through much of each winter.

Spotting Nocturnal Mammals

     I have seen many nocturnal mammals, "in the fur", at dusk and at night in my lifetime.  I've seen red foxes when I was a boy, perched in trees.  I've spotted groups of white-tailed deer emerging from gray woodlands at twilight and entering snow-covered fields to feed on alfalfa and corn kernels.  I have noticed raccoon families along creeks at night and skunks and opossums on my lawn at dusk.  And I have spotted all these mammals in vehicle headlights along dark country roads.  But in the past few months I have enjoyed seeing nocturnal mammals going about their daily activities uninterrupted at three different ground feeders during the night through live cameras, some kind of nighttime lighting and our home computer screen.  Those feeders are in a lawn in South Carolina, a yard in Akron, Ohio and a woodland in southeastern Iowa.  And these nighttime mammals are always entertaining and educational when seen without them knowing they are being watched.
     I have seen raccoons, opossums and deer mice at all three feeders, and white-tailed deer at two of them.  That shows how adaptable, widespread and common those mammal species are in the United States.    
     I've seen up to eleven raccoons, four opossums and a few white-tailed deer at once at the feeders in South Carolina.  I never saw so many 'coons or 'possums in one place at one time before.  Two red foxes have been there together, but not regularly.  And I once saw an armadillo and a deer mouse there as well.  All the different mammal species seem to get along well for the most part, though their might be a brief, mild confrontation of mammals of the same kind.
     Sometimes there are no mammals to be seen at those feeders at night.  Then one sees one or more, then more, moving and bobbing "lights" back in the dark woods.  This is eye shine, being reflected from the eyes of nocturnal mammals approaching the illuminated feeders, mostly one or two at a time.
     I have also enjoyed seeing a few each of raccoons and opossums, a striped skunk and a cottontail rabbit at ground feeders at Akron, Ohio.  Strangely, although there is a successional woodland bordering the lawn, I've never seen deer coming to those feeders.  And, though they are common in the eastern United States, the skunk at Akron was the only one I saw at all three feeders, at least so far.  I can always identify the rabbit back in the woods by its eye shine alone, because it bounces along dramatically as that critter hops about.
     The deer feeders in Iowa, however, are the most exciting to me.  Those feeders are filled with field corn and are positioned in a deciduous woods.  Up to twelve deer at a time converge at that feeder at once.  One can spot bucks, does and fawns of the year by obvious features, including some big racks on some bucks.  But deer often seem quarrelsome to each other, which is a surprise because they seem so timid and docile. 
     Up to eight raccoons, four opossums and several deer mice also come regularly to this feeder.  I first noticed the mice by their tiny eye shine low to the ground as they each sneaked in to grab a corn kernel.  The raccoons chase the mice, if the 'coons spot them.  But I never saw any mice being caught.                
     There was one incident when several deer leaped and dashed across a woodland, soil road and through the woods, followed a few seconds later by two or three coyotes!  What a thrill!
     And there was sighting of a lone bobcat slipping by the deer feeder.  Bob cats could be more common over a greater part of North America than many people realize.
     Other, interesting kinds of mammals can be spotted at feeders at night in the United States.  One just has to want to experience them.  

Encounters With Juncos

     When I was about nine years old, I was walking in the family garden in farmland outside Rohrerstown, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, one late afternoon in January.  Snow was on the ground and weeds stood tall above it.  Suddenly, a dozen small, gray birds fluttered up from those weeds and away on the wind.  I remember seeing white V's on their tails as they flew.  I never saw birds like that before and learned later they were an eastern North American form of dark-eyed juncos.  And I learned they were eating seeds off the weeds they were among.   
     Sometime later, again in winter with snow on the ground and the trees, I was walking through an evergreen-scented, two-acre stand of planted, half-grown white pines and Norway spruces when I accidentally chased up several juncos from weeds between the trees.  Each bird quickly bounded into the needled-bearing coniferous boughs to escape, to them, a possible "predator", me.  Each startled junco uttered a series of alarmed, rapid chips as it disappeared into the shadowy limbs of the evergreens.  The last thing I saw of each bird was the white V from the outer feathers, one on each side, of its tail.  Then all of them were out of sight.  I walked on through the conifer woods, hearing the juncos chipping excitedly as I went and thinking that the sudden disappearance of those white tail feathers might confuse predators that were chasing the juncos and suddenly saw nothing to follow.  
     My family moved when I was fifteen to a suburban area outside Lancaster City.  One winter afternoon I walked through a planted, conifer-smelling, one acre patch of young white pines and Norway spruces and again, inadvertently, chased several dark-eyed juncos from a clump of tall, seedy grasses where they were feeding on seeds.  Away those juncos went, into the evergreens, flashing their white V's and chipping all the while.
     Dark-eyed juncos only winter in Lancaster County, and across much of the United States.  They raise young in mixed deciduous/coniferous forest across Canada and Alaska and down the Appalachian and Rocky Mountains of North America.  The eastern form of this species is dapper-looking, being slate-gray on top with white bellies, which resembles gray, winter skies and snow on the ground.  The juncos' constant flicking of the white V's on their tails could be a communication among them.
     Juncos consume seeds in winter, and many of them come to bird feeders during that harshest of seasons.  The main predators on these little birds are sharp-shinned hawks, Cooper's hawks and house cats, particularly when juncos and other kinds of small birds are congregated at feeders.
     Dark-eyed juncos are delightful little birds that entertain and inspire us at bird feeders on our lawns during winter.  And they are often found among adjacent patches of weeds and grasses, and planted coniferous trees where they ingest seeds, and rest between feeding forays.        
    

Some Lawn Fringillidae

     When I was about ten years old, I heard and saw a bright-red male cardinal singing from the tip of a pear tree in a Lancaster City, Pennsylvania back yard.  He was the first cardinal I ever saw, and I thought he, and his songs, were beautiful among new leaves and before the blue sky.  And he was especially brilliant in sunlight.
     The attractive northern cardinals, song sparrows and house finches are permanent resident fringillidae, or seed-eating, birds that live and raise young in thickets in hedgrows and woodland edges.  And, because they are adaptable, they also hatch offspring in shrubbery on lawns across much of the United States, where they are three of the most common bird species in that human-made habitat.  Being adaptable enough to nest in suburban areas helps build up their populations.
     These native, North American species, being related and sharing habitats, have several characteristics in common.  They are all insect eaters during warmer months, but consume seeds in winter.  They all come to bird feeders any time of year to ingest seeds and grain.  There these handsome birds, and others, provide us humans with much beauty, entertainment and inspiration.  Male cardinals, song sparrows and house finches sing delightful ditties early each spring in their thicket and lawn shrubbery homes.  They all begin to sing and court females of their kinds as early as warm afternoons in the middle of February, offering another local sign of spring.  And all these birds build cup nurseries of tiny twigs, rootlets and grasses tucked away in sheltering bushes in hedgerows, woodland edges and lawns.
     Most every bushy habitat has its pair of cardinals.  Male cardinals usually sing their lovely songs of "cheer, cheer, cheer", from lofty perches overlooking their home territories.  Recently fledged cardinals have brown beaks instead of the pink ones of their parents.  The warm-red of cardinals is most appreciated in winter when several of those birds are among coniferous trees on lawns with snow on the ground and in the trees.
     Song sparrows are brown and dark-streaked, which camouflages them among shrubbery, weeds and grasses.  This type of sparrow gets much of its summer, invertebrate food from the muddy, thicket-choked shores of streams and ponds.  There it plays the role of sandpipers in a narrow niche where those shorebirds won't go.             
     House finches are originally from the American west.  Many of them were taken to New York City to be sold in pet shops to be cage birds.  But keeping them was illegal and some pet shop owners released house finches into New York rather than being fined for having them for sale.  Of course, boys met girls for many generations and now house finches inhabit much of the eastern United States. 
     The lovely male house finches are gray with dark streaks and pink on their heads, chests and backs.  Female and young birds are similar to the males, but don't have the pink.
     House finches nest in bushes, young arborvitae trees and sheltered places on buildings.  But they don't seem to be able to compete with wintering gangs of aggressive house sparrows, so many house finches retire to hedgerows and woods edges through winter.  But they return to the suburbs again too court and rear youngsters.    
     These related, seed-eating birds are present in most every shrubby lawn, where they live permanently and raise young.  They are all handsome birds and sing delightful songs early in spring when we need it most.  They are well worth having and knowing as neighbors. 

Wintering Brant and Black Ducks

     In mid-November of this year, I got a live camera on Long Beach Island, New Jersey on our computer to see if I could spot Atlantic brant geese and black ducks in Atlantic Coast salt marshes.  I was thrilled to see a small flock each of brant and black ducks in the same view at the same time on the shallow water of a backwater off the ocean, where that water borders a salt marsh.  And there were other brant farther out on the backwater at that same time.  Other species of wildlife winter in coastal salt marshes in the eastern United States, but, to me, Atlantic brant and black ducks are icons, the spirits, of that habitat in winter.  They are exciting and inspiring to experience in winter salt marshes.
     I've seen both these species of waterfowl, in the feathers, wintering in Atlantic Coast salt marshes in the past, but I haven't been to a salt marsh in winter in years.  Furthermore, It's easier to see some kinds of wildlife by these live cameras than to try to see them in the wild.  Most wild creatures shy away from the human figure.    
     Brant and black ducks have much in common, though each is from a different genus of waterfowl.  They raise young in different habitats, but many individuals of each kind winter in the same salt marshes along the Atlantic Coast from New Jersey to North Carolina.  
     The elegant brants and handsome blacks have dark feathering that makes them stand out beautifully in the beige salt grass of winter.  Both types of birds often live, feed and fly in highly visible flocks.  Brant and black ducks are also easily noticed in open water on the edges of salt marsh back waters and channels.  They both appear black in the distance and against snow.  These species are about the same size because brant are a small type of goose and black ducks are robust ducks.  But brant have a typical goose shape with a long neck while blacks are built like typical ducks with shorter necks.  They are easy to identify from each other by shape alone.   
     Brant and blacks both ingest vegetation through winter.  Both of them "tip-up" in shallow water to dredge alga and other aquatic vegetation from the mud.  But brant also pluck grass and the green shoots of winter grains in fields while blacks also shovel up corn kernels in harvested fields.
     Being different species, brant and blacks have differences, too.  Brant run over water or ground to take flight, while black ducks simply leap into the air and fly away.  Brant fly in loose flocks and long lines, "shoulder to shoulder".  Brant honk hoarsely while female blacks quack loudly.  Brant raise goslings on the Arctic tundra, while black ducks rear offspring in eastern Canada and the United States.  Some female blacks hatch ducklings in Atlantic salt marshes in the United States.           
     Flocks of Atlantic brant and black ducks are striking species in Atlantic Coast salt marshes in winter.  I enjoy experiencing these handsome spirits of those winter habitats.

Mississippi Flyway in Fall

     The shallow channels, mud flats and beds of emergent grasses in Lake Analaska, which is bordered by steep, wooded hills and is located along the Mississippi River in northwestern Wisconsin, are habitats of wonderful mixes of southbound water birds, at least during October and November.  I "have been" to that lovely lake several times in those two months via a live camera and our home computer.  Watching the gatherings of large water birds on the lake, which is a backwater off the Mississippi, has been enjoyable and inspiring to me, just as viewing some of those same birds, in the flesh and feathers, along my home Susquehanna River in Pennsylvania.
     Not all the birds were along that lake in Wisconsin at once, and some didn't stay there long before pushing farther south for the winter.  American white pelicans, in their thousands, dominated this backwater off the Mississippi during a few weeks in October.  Big and bulky, pelicans plod stoically, but majestically, on mud flats and in the shallows.  Pelicans have boat-like bodies for floating on water, and long beaks and large lower mandible pouches for snaring fish from the water's surface.
     The pelicans in this species work together on the water's surface to snare fish.  Groups of them swim in a line, and daintily dip their beaks in the water at the same time to scoop up the confused and frantic fish.   
     American white pelicans fly strongly, and gracefully, in lines and V's.  They often flap in unison, then glide for several seconds before flapping together again.  When landing on the water, they ski to a stop on their broad, webbed feet.       
     During the latter part of October and into mid-November, flocks of noisy, southbound sandhill cranes settle on the flats and shallows of this backwater off the Mississippi.  They are tundra nesters heading for their wintering grounds in parts of Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and Mexico.
     Stately sandhill cranes stand about four feet tall, have gray feathering all over, except a red spot on each bird's forehead.  They are elegantly long-necked and long-legged, and wade in shallow water after aquatic invertebrates and vegetation.  They also walk through harvested corn fields to pick up and ingest corn kernels on the ground.  And sometimes in autumn, these magnificent cranes engage in graceful courtship dances; pairs of them leaping and flapping as the partners face each other. 
     Each late afternoon for a few weeks, many sandhills converged on Lake Analaska for the night. But their flocks in fall are nowhere near the size of the northbound hordes of these cranes in March and April along the Platte River in Nebraska.
     Flocks of noisy Canada geese and tundra swans converge in numbers on Lake Analaska in November.  These species of large, elegant waterfowl rest on flats and in the shallows, but fly out, group after group, to harvested corn fields where they scoop up corn kernels on the ground.  These geese and swans are majestic on the wing when flying to and from corn fields and the bodies of water where they rest between feeding forays.  These two kinds of large birds also graze on short grass and green blades of winter rye.       
     In fall, a variety of puddle ducks, including loose flocks of mallards, pintails, American wigeons and gadwalls, "tip-up" among protective emergent grasses and extend their beaks down to water plants on the shallow bottoms of this lake along the Mississippi.  They use their beaks to tear loose that vegetation and bring it to the surface to swallow it and get a breath of air.  These puddlers also shovel up corn kernels in fields.  And wigeons graze on short grass, as do Canada geese.    
     Certain kinds of diving ducks, particularly thousands of buffleheads, and lesser numbers of common goldeneyes, ring-necked ducks and lesser scaup, dove into open, deeper waters to dredge up aquatic vegetation, invertebrates and small mollusks and crustaceans.  It was interesting to see mixed rafts of these diving ducks floating and bobbing on deeper water, while some individuals dove under and others popped to the surface to swallow and get a breath.
     Little gangs of ring-billed gulls, a common, inland kind of gull, fluttered lightly over the flats and shallows each late afternoon as those birds prepared to spend the night roosting on the flats.  They had spent each day searching for anything edible along the lake shores, the nearby Mississippi and on fields between those large bodies of water.  Ring-bills will also eat edible scraps from dumpsters and landfills.
     Up to 60 majestic bald eagles, of every age, formed groups of themselves on flats, large trees fallen into the shallows and standing trees in woods along the lake's shores.  These stately eagles catch fish from larger bodies of water, and scavenge dead animals, including fish washed up on shores.   
     These attractive and migrating water birds on Lake Analaska at the same time were exciting and inspiring to experience in the air, and on the water and mud flats.  There was much to see and hear at once, including flocks of large water birds flying before a sunset, or standing still and silhouetted in water and on the flats at dusk.  It was also neat to hear the birds calling, or splashing water as they fluttered their wings during bath times.      

Adaptable, Common Farmland Birds

     While recently driving in farmland to do errands around New Holland, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania in mid-November, it again occurred to me that I was easily seeing the same flocks of wintering birds I always see in local cropland at this time of year.  For example, as I drove by a couple of crab apple trees in a hedgerow of sapling trees, bushes and tall weeds and grasses along a clear-water stream that day, I noticed flocks of American robins and starlings flying in and out of those crab apple trees.  I stopped for several minutes and watched those two kinds of bids eating some of the many yellow fruits clinging to those trees and lying on the ground under them.  And as I watched those birds ingesting crab apples, I thought about some of the other kinds of flock birds I repeatedly see wintering in Lancaster County.
     All these handsome and interesting bird species live in Lancaster County's farmland the year around, and raise young here.  All are adaptable, common in this area and large enough to be readily noticed.  And each kind has its daily habits, food sources and nightly roosts.
     Though unrelated, wintering robin and starling flocks are often seen together in cropland hedgerows where they consume a variety of berries from trees, shrubbery and vines.  And both species eat invertebrates from lawns, when they can, and roost in planted, wind-breaking coniferous trees on lawns during winter nights.  These two attractive species converge in winter because they have similar needs and body forms during that bitter season.
     I also regularly see flocks of related and petite mourning doves and rock pigeons eating waste corn kernels in harvested corn fields through winter.  Sometimes, both species flutter down, at the same time, on whistling wings, through snow falls, to the fields to feed.  Both species walk about, with heads bobbing at each step, among the stubble and light snow, to pick up kernels with their beaks, one kernel at a time.  The doves are more difficult to see because they have brown feathering, which blends them into the color of the corn stubble.
     When not feeding, however, the doves and pigeons retire to different roosts to rest, and digest the kernels they ingested.  The doves perch on roadside wires where they are easily seen, and in coniferous trees.  And the pigeons retire to the coned tops of farmland silos, the only local birds that do that.  However, doves spend winter nights in evergreen trees, while pigeons do the same in barns and under bridges.   
     Gatherings of wintering mallard ducks and majestic Canada geese congregate on farmland ponds and creeks.  Both these aquatic species eat much water vegetation, but also get food in nearby human-made, land habitats.  Both kinds consume grass on lawns, and shovel up corn kernels among the stubble of harvested corn fields, where they encounter doves and pigeons.  Like doves and pigeons, mallards and Canadas can be spotted dropping through snowfalls to acres of corn stubble to feed.  Sometimes, they have to shovel their bills under the snow to get their food.  When full, the mallards and geese wing back to their watery roosts on ponds and waterways.  The elegant geese always honk and bugle boisterously when flying in V shapes and long lines from place to place.     
     Though commonplace in Lancaster County cropland the year around, these types of adaptable, interesting birds are always welcome sights in farmland, at least to me.  They add daily life and intrigue to that human-made habitat these lovely birds adjusted to.     

Some Successional Trees

     Certain kinds of trees in eastern Pennsylvania, including staghorn sumacs, sassafras, red junipers, large-toothed aspens and gray birches, pioneer denuded land after burning, timbering, farming or mining and then abandoned.  All native to North America, these interesting, successional trees help hold down soil against erosion, benefit wildlife and have certain beauties the year around, while building up nutrients in the abused soil from their decaying fallen leaves, bark and wood over several years.  Eventually, successional trees will be replaced by more demanding ones that will permanently inhabit land that was degraded, but enriched by successional trees.
     Successional trees need much sunlight, which they get on denuded soil.  But these trees can't tolerate being shaded, so they gradually die out when shade-tolerant trees replace them and live permanently on what-had-been bare ground.      
     Sumac limbs are forked like antlers on buck deer.  This small tree has compound leaves, each leaf having several leaflets that turn red in autumn and flutter like banners in the wind, adding beauty to degraded landscapes.  Female sumacs grow cone-shaped clusters of red, fuzzy berries that help beautify abused landscapes.  Many of those striking berries are eaten by rodents and berry-eating birds, including starlings, American robins, cedar waxwings and other species. 
     Sassafras trees have three leaf shapes on each tree.  One leaf shape is a simple oval.  Another one is shaped like a mitten and the third has three chubby prongs, like a fork.  In fall, sassafras foliage turns to red, orange or yellow. 
     Sassafras trees also have deep-purple berries in autumn that are eaten by a variety of seed-eating birds, rodents, raccoons and other kinds of mammals.  The birds digest the pulp of the berries, but pass sassafras seeds in their droppings wherever they happen to perch.  Sassafras grows abundantly along rural roadsides because of birds perched on electric lines along those roads.  
     Spicebush swallowtail butterfly caterpillars consume the foliage of spicebushes and sassafras trees.  Each larvae spins webbing to wrap a leaf around itself so it can eat in relative safety.  These caterpillars are green to blend into the leaves' color if those leaves are opened by birds or other predators.  Furthermore, each larva has two black spots on its forward "back" that resemble eyes, which frighten away would-be predators.    
     Red junipers are a kind of conifer, with green needles on them the year around.  This pillar-shaped tree is mistakenly called red cedar, but it is in the juniper genus.
     Red junipers produce tiny, fleshy cones that are pale-blue.  Multitudes of those berry-like cones are decorative on the green junipers in winter.  And they are eaten by deer, rodents and berry-eating birds through fall and winter.  Cedar waxwings get their name, in part, from eating juniper cones.
     Saw-whet owls roost during winter days in red junipers.  And dark-eyed juncos, mourning doves and other kinds of birds roost overnight in them during winter.
     House finches, American goldfinches, chipping sparrows and field sparrows nest in junipers in summer.  Obviously, the attractive junipers are valuable to wildlife.  
     Large-toothed aspens have leaves that quiver noticeably in the wind, and have toothed margins.  That foliage turns yellow in autumn.  But aspens' long, hanging catkins, swaying in the spring wind, are the trees' most beautiful features. 
     Beavers commonly chew down these trees to eat their leaves, twigs and bark, and use the woody trunks and branches to build their dams and lodges.  Deer, hares and mice consume aspen buds, twigs and bark on still-standing trees in winter.  
     Gray birches are particularly noted for pioneering deserted strip mines and slag piles in coal regions in eastern Pennsylvania.  This birch has "dirty-white" bark and dark triangles below where the limbs emerge from the trunks.  And like aspens, this birch species has yellow foliage in fall, attractive catkins in spring, and buds, twigs and bark that are consumed by beavers, mice and deer.  Beavers also use birch branches and trunks to build dams and lodges.  And the tiny, winged seeds of birches are ingested by small, seed-eating birds through fall and winter.
     Look for these successional trees in successional landscapes any time of year.  They build up soil, feed and shelter wildlife and provide us with beauty where, otherwise, it may not be.

Distinctive, Decorative Bark

     At least six kinds of deciduous trees in southeastern Pennsylvania have distinctive, decorative bark that is most readily seen in winter when the trees are bare.  The bark of each tree helps identify it, and adds more beauty and intrigue to it, and the outdoors in winter.  The six are shag-bark hickories in bottomland woods, river birches and sycamores along streams and creeks, black locusts in fertile farmland, and sugar maples and American beeches on wooded slopes.
     Shagbark hickory bark peels off in long, vertical strips, with both ends of each one flared away from the trunk, but the middle still attached to it, giving hickories a shaggy appearance.  Older hickories appear rough and picturesque, which we can enjoy in bottomland woods.
     Brown creeper birds, mourning cloak butterflies, daddy long legs and other kinds of invertebrates shelter behind the partly dislodged planks of curled bark.  Gray squirrels chew into the hard husks and shells of hickory nuts to eat the meat inside.    
     As the wood and bark of hickories, and other kinds of trees, grow in circumference, the older, outer bark of each trunk and limb is forced loose and away.  The shedding of the outer bark makes room for new bark, and wood, growing underneath it.      
     The thin, pale-orange bark of river birch trees peels away in innumerable loose curls and strips, which makes the entire tree rustically attractive.  River birches are commonly planted on lawns because of the shaggy appearance of their limbs and trunks.
     In spring, long, hanging catkins, that cling to river birch twigs, produce pollen that is blown about in the wind.  Fertilized female flowers on these birches grow tiny, winged seeds that also blow away on the wind and are eaten by mice and a variety of seed-eating sparrows and finches in winter.
     White-tailed deer, cottontail rabbits and deer mice consume the twigs, buds and young bark of river birches in winter.  Beavers ingest birch bark, but use the trunks and branches to help build their dams and lodges.       
     Sycamore trees' older, barker bark drops off the trees in small, thin pieces, revealing patches of newer, lighter-hued bark that creates the mottled appearance on those trees.  Sycamores can grow massive along the waterways in the sunny meadows they call home.  I know of a few huge sycamores, close to home, that have cavities at ground level so large that up to a half dozen people could sit comfortably in them.  And this type of tree has seed balls that hang on long stems attached to the outer twigs of the trees.
     Black locust trees have thick, twisted-looking bark that resembles powerful, knotted muscles, giving these trees a rugged, rustic appearance.  And, in the middle of May, black locusts develop clusters of white flowers with a sweet fragrance that can be detected for some little distance across cropland fields.  Beans form in thin pods where the blossoms were.  This species of tree also has several cavities that make good homes for farmland screech owls and American kestrels.
     Sugar maple trees have several interesting traits, including strikingly beautiful orange foliage in autumn, two percent sugar in their sap that is boiled down to maple syrup and candy early in spring, and bark that flares out in long, firm ridges from trunks and larger branches.  Sugar maples are commonly planted on lawns because of their elegant shapes, colored leaves and maple syrup.      
     The handsome and stately American beech trees also have intriguing characteristics, including long, pointed leaf buds in winter, pale-yellow, curled leaves attached to twig moorings all winter and smooth, gray bark on trunks and branches.  One can see how common beeches are in certain woods by seeing those dead, curled leaves on their trees through winter when other deciduous trees are bare.  This is another species that grows to massive size.  And it is commonly planted on lawns.
     These are some of the deciduous trees that have distinctive and decorative bark in southeastern Pennsylvania.  The bark on these trees helps make time outdoors more interesting and enjoyable.    
               

Fall Forster's and Bonaparte's

     Several times during September and October some years ago, I stood on a rock outcropping above the lower Susquehanna River in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania to see what birds were along the river at that time.  The river there is bordered on both sides by steep hills, all of them clothed in deciduous woods. 
     From that overlook over the river, I saw an occasional bald eagle, or a pair of them, soaring majestically over the river, or a great blue heron and ring-billed gulls in powerful flight.  And most every time I observed the river, with binoculars, from that vantage point, I saw little groups of Forster's terns, perhaps totaling up to 60 of them, winging swiftly up and down the river in their searches for small fish to catch and eat.  They were post-breeding birds that might have come up river daily from the nearby Chesapeake Bay.
     And, a few years later, from a dock near Perryville, Maryland, along the Upper Chesapeake Bay during an October evening, I observed about a dozen Forster's winging strongly and gracefully in circles about thirty feet above the water.  Each tern powered along on narrow, swept-back wings, then dove abruptly, beak-first, into the water after small fish.  All those fish-catching terns were entertaining and inspiring to see in action fairly close up.
     And, occasionally, during November, I see little groups of Bonaparte's gulls pumping low and gracefully, into the wind, over the water of the lower Susquehanna.  There they pick up small fish and other edible tidbits from the surface, or just below it.             
     Forster's terns and Bonaparte's gulls, though from different bird families, have characteristics in common.  They are about the same size, the Forster's being about fourteen and a half inches long, and the Bonnies being around thirteen inches in lenght.  Each of these species is a petite member of its family.  Both species fly buoyantly over the water, with their thin beaks pointed down, while watching for insect and tiny fish prey.  Both are entertaining and inspiring to watch in dainty flight, as they seek and procure food.  Both kinds are mostly light-gray on top, white below and have white tails.  And many individuals of both types migrate along rivers.                    
     Little groups of Forster's and Bonaparte's are along the lower Susquehanna each autumn, the terns mostly in September and October and the gulls mostly in October and November.  Both species slowly make their way farther south to spend the winter where water doesn't freeze, especially along coastal waters, so they can get food through winter. 
     Forster's terns live only in America.  They fly on quick, powerful wing beats and have a black patch of feathers around the eye and ear on each side of their heads during winter.  Each female lays a few eggs on a mat of grass in marshes along the Atlantic and Gulf Coasts, from Maryland to Texas.  And these attractive, little terns winter from South Carolina to the Gulf Coast.
     Bonaparte's gulls have an interesting bounding flight into the wind.  In winter, each Bonaparte's has a small, black patch of feathers behind each eye.  But a long, white stripe on each wing is the most distinctive feature on these gulls the year around.  Those white stripes appear like banners on flying Bonaparte's gulls.
     Bonaparte's build twig, grass and moss nurseries on coniferous tree limbs in marshes near lakes in the spruce-fir forests of Canada.  And they winter on the shores of the Great Lakes and along Atlantic shores from southern New England to Florida and the Gulf Coast.
     These beautiful species of petite water birds are intriguing to experience anytime of year.  I have seen them only in migration, but am thrilled with them every time I do.  They are lovely and entertaining.  

Shagbark Hickories and Black Walnuts

     Shagbark hickory trees and black walnut trees are a major part of fall in southeastern Pennsylvania farmland, but are not noticed by many people.  These trees traditionally inhabit bottomland woods, which have moist soil.  But both species, being adaptable, have been planted along rural roads and on lawns.  Black walnuts are particularly common on those human-made habitats because many people like to gather the nuts to put in cakes, ice cream and ice cream toppings.
     These hickory and walnut trees have much in common.  In summer the six-inch larvae of regal moths, called hickory horned devils, eat the foliage of both species.  Both kinds of trees are most evident in October, for different reasons.  Both have compound leaves, each leaf bearing several leaflets.  Both types produce nuts that have hard, green husks, that become dark.  Both have hard shells under those husks.  And many nuts of hickories and black walnuts litter the ground and country roads during September and October.
     However, hickories and walnuts have differences, too.  Local shagbarks mostly inhabit stream edges in farmland.  They have striking yellow-bronze foliage in October.  And the one and a half inch, green husks on their nuts have four sections that separate when those nuts fall to the ground.  The inner shell of each nut is off-white and smooth. 
     Black walnuts are abundant in local farmland, particularly along country roads.  Many of them were planted by people and squirrels, which promotes their abundance.  In October, black walnut trees are characterized by having few leaves on their twigs, but having many green, two-inch nuts still hanging decoratively on those twigs, as well as many nuts on the ground and roads under the trees.  The shells of their nuts are dark and grooved.
     Poison ivy and Virginia creeper vines crawl up shag barks and black walnuts, and other structures, to reach sunlight.  Poison ivy vines have red, orange and yellow foliage in September and October, while the leaves of the creepers are bright red at that same time.  Shag bark and walnut trees along country roads are particularly beautiful and enchanting to us because of the striking autumn foliage of those two types of vines hanging from their stout limbs and trunks.  
     Gray squirrels and other kinds of rodents are the only creatures in southeastern Pennsylvania that have jaws strong enough and teeth sharp enough to chisel into the husks and shells of these nuts.  After much gnawing, the rodents consume the nutrition-packed "meat" inside the shells.
     Gray squirrels bury many black walnuts and hickory nuts a couple inches in the ground to be eaten in winter when food is scarce.  But if some squirrels forget where they buried some nuts, or are preyed on by red-tailed hawks, great horned owls or other predators, some of the nuts they planted have a chance to sprout into young trees.  Over the years, I've pulled many black walnut seedlings from our lawn and garden at home.   
     Other kinds of wildlife, including foxes, opossums, blue jays, American crows, northern cardinals and a small variety of seed-eating birds, have opportunities to ingest the meat of black walnuts and hickory nuts.  Many of those nuts are crushed by passing vehicles on roads and streets, releasing the meat onto the blacktop.  But these forms of wildlife must get off the roads ahead of traffic.
     Shagbark hickory and black walnut trees are characteristic of October in local cropland.  They are picturesque to us, and their nuts are valuable to certain kinds of wildlife through fall and winter.
      

Migrant Monarchs in Clover

     September and October is when most monarch butterflies in northeast North America migrate south to Florida and Mexico to find food during the northern winter.  Most monarchs, it seems, pass through southeastern Pennsylvania in the middle of September.  But on the second of October of this year, while I was out nature exploring near home in New Holland, Pennsylvania, I saw several pretty monarchs in a twelve acre field of fading red clover flowers.
     I watched that field for about an hour and a half on a warm, windy afternoon, scanning it with my 16 power binoculars.  At first I saw several yellow sulphur butterflies fluttering about the red clover blossoms, which was understandable for that time of year.  However, I only spotted one or two monarchs in the air over the clover field at once, but that was enough to keep me interested in looking for more monarchs.  And as I scanned back and forth with binoculars across the field, I began to see more and more monarchs rising from blooms at once, and settling on others.  The field became ever more interesting to me on that sunny, autumn afternoon.
     I soon saw up to six monarch butterflies in the air at once over that hay field.  And after a half hour of watching the monarchs flutter up and drop down all over the field, I estimated there were about twenty of them sipping nectar from red clover flowers in the field that afternoon.  I thought that number of monarchs was fairly remarkable, especially for October.  And I don't think I ever saw so many monarchs in one place at one time.
     The monarchs seemed to "take turns" rising in flight low over the clover field, as they sipped nectar from one red clover blossom, and pink knapweed flower, after another the whole time I was there.  And, interestingly, the monarchs were strong fliers; none of them were tossed about in the wind, but maintained a controlled, purposeful flight at all times.  They fed on nectar as the steady sparrows consume weed and grass seeds in windy fields.  I was impressed!
     Of course, the monarchs were lovely fluttering and floating gracefully in sunlight low over the green field.  Their orange coloring glowed beautifully in the sunshine.      
     I was happy to find those twenty handsome monarchs in the red clover field.  They were inspiring and I couldn't help but think that maybe there's more of them in North America than we realize.  We couldn't possibly look everywhere they are. 

Some Intriguing Invertibrates

     July, August and September are thee months of cold-blooded invertebrates here in southeastern Pennsylvania, and many of those little creatures with exoskeletons are exceptionally attractive and interesting.  This September, I've seen some appealing spiders and insects in my home area, making my nature trips more exciting and inspiring.
     I've seen a few strikingly black and yellow female garden spiders in their large orb webs hung among tall grasses or between wooden rails of a pasture fence where they wait for flying insects to become helplessly enmeshed in silk webbing the spiders produce themselves.  These beautiful spiders, that have one-inch bodies and long legs, making them more visible than most spiders, paralyze their insect victims, wrap them in silk and suck out their juices when they are hungry. 
     I've also seen a couple of handsome fishing spiders in the slow-running edges of streams in sunny, grassy meadows.  These spiders are nearly an inch long, are dark brown with two beige stripes on the tops of their thoraxes and abdomens.  These camouflaged spiders use most of their legs to anchor themselves to shoreline vegetation, but each spider extends a couple of legs onto the surface of the slow current to feel for vibrations in the water caused by insects or tiny fish.  Other kinds of spiders feel prey in their webs the same way.  When a fishing spider feels vibrations close by, it runs over the water to snare its victim and paralyzes it for a future meal.  
     American ruby-spot damselflies are about an inch and a half long and live in and around small waterways in sunny pastures.  I first saw these pretty dragonfly relatives this September, which was thrilling to me.  Males of this species have an attractive red spot at the base of each wing, giving this insect beauty, particularly when zipping about in sunlight over a clear stream lined with vegetation.  Those red spots also give this damselfly its common name.  Females spawn eggs into plant tissues at the edges of streams, and the young feed on tiny invertebrates on stream bottoms.  Adults consume flying insects.
     This late summer, into autumn, I have noticed many one-inch-long spotted lantern flies flying about here and there, and blundering onto back decks and vehicles, where they walk about, then take flight again.  These flies are attractive with dark spots on light-gray outer wings, red on each hind wing and yellow on each side of the abdomen, the lantern itself I suppose.  The red and yellow are seen mostly when these slow-flying insects are in flight. 
     These flies in all stages of their lives seem to be alert and ready to quickly leap or fly away from danger.  This species consumes vegetation and is said to be a pest on fruit, especially grapes. 
    Young lantern flies are black with white spots.  Red develops on their wings as they mature.      
    While watching for migrant birds and monarch butterflies, I sometimes see a few green darner dragonflies migrating south to avoid the northern winter.  Green darners are interesting because they zip along so rapidly, sometimes in little groups, catching small flying insects as they go.  They can be spotted almost anywhere, including away from water.
     I have noticed many lovely buckeye butterflies this summer, and into September, more, it seems, than in other years.  I mostly see buckeyes on red clover blossoms in hay fields and along country roads in this area.  But they visit asters and other flowers as well. 
     Buckeyes are attractive with brown and orange wings, with two dark, round spots that look like eyes on each of four wings.  Those fake eyes help discourage birds and other would-be predators from eating buckeye butterflies.    
     I also saw a hickory, horned devil on the ground along the edge of a deciduous woodland.  It was a six-inch, chunky caterpillar, light-green all over, which camouflaged it in the trees, had many dark barbs along its upper body and eight, black-tipped, long, orange barbs just behind its head.  All that armory discourages predators from ingesting this regal moth, also known as royal walnut moth, caterpillar.  Hickory horned devils consume the leaves of hickory and walnut trees and become beautiful gray moths with orange striping and yellow spots on their wings.
     I found an eyed elator, a large kind of click beetle, in a fallen log in a deciduous woods.  This almost two-inch-long, gray beetle has two black ovals that look like eyes on top of its thorax, again to discourage would-be predators from consuming this beetle.  This beetle consumes plant juices and abruptly snaps its body to startle birds and other predators.
     And I have seen a few praying mantises this summer, into September.  But recently I saw one fly.  That flying mantis resembled an other-worldly creature from a horror movie, or a tiny dinosaur.  With their wings and legs extended in flight, mantises appear large and monstrous.  They look like relics of the past, which all insects are.  And mantises are predatory, which adds to their fearsome appearance, especially when in flight.
     All these local invertebrates, and others, are attractive and intriguing, each in its own way.  When out during July, August and September, look for some of these interesting, exciting creatures. 
      
        

Insects on Asters

     For two hours one warm, sunny afternoon in the middle of September in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, I sat in a planted patch of New York aster blooms on three foot stalks to see what kinds of insects were sipping nectar from those beautiful blossoms.  That clump of lovely aster flowers, each bloom being one inch across, with deep-purple petals and yellow centers, is the size of an average bedroom, and on the edge of a lawn in a tree-dotted park.  Blooming since late August, multitudes of New York aster flowers are pretty in themselves, and also attract many insects that help liven flower beds and lawns during September and into October.  And aster blooms of several kinds are the last large source of nectar for insects each autumn in this area.
     The planted patch of asters I studied was swarming with insects in competition for nectar.  Some insects on the blossoms bumped into each other in their quest for nectar, while spreading pollen from flower to flower.  
     Many bumble bees, carpenter bees and honey bees buzzed heavily from bloom to bloom and ingested nectar from each aster blossom they visited, some of the bees right where I was sitting.  But I was not concerned because I knew the bees wouldn't bother me: And they didn't.  In fact, I had the wonderful feeling of being right in the midst of the bees' activities, without disturbing them; and being exceptionally close to the beauties and intrigues of nature.
     The constant fluttering "dancing" of cabbage white butterflies and yellow sulphur butterflies among the lovely aster flowers made those insects the most visible from a bit of a distance.  After a couple of generations of both these species of butterflies that originated in Europe, they are common in this area by late summer, into autumn.  They are particularly abundant in alfalfa and red clover fields when those hay crops go to flower, adding more life and beauty to local croplands, until those hay crops are mowed.
     Hackberry butterflies and least skipper butterflies were the most common kinds of butterflies among those aster blooms.  The abundance of the hackberry butterflies is explained by a couple of hackberry trees in the park.  Hackberry caterpillars fed on the leaves of those trees until they pupated.  Least skipper larvae feed on grass before pupating into butterflies.
     The tiny least skippers are cute little critters darting about among the flowers.  And their big, dark eyes add to their appeal.
     A few each of buckeye butterflies, meadow fritallaries, silver-spotted skippers and monarch butterflies, all of which are quite handsome, sipped nectar from New York aster blossoms.  Their presence on the aster flowers is understandable because the larval foods of them all is nearby.  Buckeye larvae feed on low herbs, some of which grow in lawns.  Fritallary caterpillars eat violet leaves, which also grow in lawns.  The skipper larvae consume soybean leaves, which are in nearby soybean fields.  And monarch young ingest milkweed leaves that grow along country roadsides, in abandoned fields, and in some flower gardens.        
     Buckeyes have pretty wings, brown and orange with two fake, dark eyes on each of four wings.  Those "eyes" frighten away birds and other would-be predators on buckeyes.
     Monarchs are famous for migrating each September to California, Mexico, or Florida to escape the northern winter.  And the next spring those same monarchs start north, mate, spawn and die.  But succeeding generations continue winging north and keeping the species alive.
     While sitting among the multitudes of bees and butterflies on the asters, it occured to me that those insects are part of food chains.  Water, sunlight, soil and air are non-living elements that contribute to the growth of vegetation, including asters.  Bees, butterflies and other kinds of insects ingest the nectar of those flowers, and some of those insects, in turn, are eaten by birds and other kinds of creatures.  And other animals, including mice, bears and people eat the honey of bees.        
     It's amazing how many bees and butterflies are attracted to a patch of asters to sip nectar.  Nature in abundance always attracts me because it is inspiring.  It's then that I feel all is well with the world and there is a Being far greater than ourselves!  There's no better expression of that Being's creativity than wonderful nature, even among the works of people. 

Farmland Insect Flowers

     Early in September, several kinds of flowering plants commonly bloom along roadsides, moist ditches, hedgerows, and in uncultivated corners of fields and pastures and abandoned fields and meadows in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland, as throughout much of the eastern United States.  All these lovely blooms in those human-made habitats draw attractive and interesting insects that sip sugary nectar from the blossoms, pollinating the flowers in the process; a win-win situation, as most of them are in nature.  For over an hour one warm, sunny afternoon in the beginning of this September, I saw several kinds of insects visiting pink red clover flowers and yellow goldenrod and wingstem blossoms in a corner of a field, and orange spotted jewelweed blooms, white boneset flowers, pink ironweed blooms and blue great lobelia blossoms in a moist roadside ditch bordering that field corner.  Those beautiful flowers and intriguing insects represented life in abundance where one doesn't expect to find it.
     Each flower head on red clover plants has several tiny florets in a clump.  Red clovers begin to bloom by the end of May and through summer into autumn.  A variety of pretty butterfly species sip nectar from red clover blooms, particularly cabbage white and yellow sulphur butterflies.
     Multitudes of tiny blooms on pointing goldenrod "fingers" begin to blossom toward the end of August.  Goldenrod flowers attract numerous digger wasps, which have dark heads and thoraxes and rusty-red abdomens.  Digger wasp larvae consume June beetle larvae in the ground, pupate there and emerge from the soil as attractive adult wasps.
     Wingstem stalks grow up to six feet high, have drooping, yellow petals on each bloom and small ridges on their stems.  Bumble, carpenter and honey bees, digger wasps and several kinds of butterflies visit wingstem blossoms.
     Reaching a peak of blooming early in September, the overwhelmingly abundant spotted jewelweed blossoms grow on bush-like plants that reach four feet tall.  Each flower is shaped like a one-inch cornucopia and dangles from a long stem like jewelry.  Jewelweed blossoms are visited mostly by bumble and honey bees that push their way into the blooms to sip nectar.
     Jewelweeds are also called touch-me-nots because their small, green seed pods spring open when touched by animals and people, which shoots their seeds a few feet from the parent plants.  Seeds not eaten by mice and small birds sprout the next spring.
     Each boneset plant bears several flattened clumps of tiny blooms.  Those flowers attract digger wasps, and smaller kinds of butterflies, including skippers and pearl crescents.
     Ironweed grows up to five feet tall and has several blooms in August and September.  A variety of attractive butterflies, including monarchs and tiger swallowtails, flutter among these flowers and land on them to ingest nectar.    
     Great lobelias have blooms on two-foot tall stems.  Bumble bees are the insects most likely to enter them to consume nectar.
     But bees and butterflies that visit the flowers of these plants are not the only members of their vast class of animals to feed on flowering plants in human-made fields and meadows late in summer and into fall.  A small variety of grasshoppers, plus field crickets and mole crickets also get sustenance from those plants.
     While watching the butterflies and bees fluttering and buzzing among the flowers, I also noticed several grasshoppers jumping among the tops of the green foliage of those blooming plants, and grasses.  They were there to ingest that foliage.
     Watching even closer, I saw a few dark field crickets hopping over the ground among the bases of the same plants, where they fed on the living foliage.  And as I watched bees, butterflies, grasshoppers and crickets, I heard the seemingly unending, measured chirping of a mole cricket in his shallow burrow in a damp part of the roadside ditch.  Mole crickets are built like moles with shovel-like front legs and small back legs.  They eat the roots of plants that hang in their tunnels.
     It is always amazing to me how much lovely nature is in human-made habitats created to serve human needs.  Those habitats are quickly populated by adaptable plants and animals, to their benefit in having homes, and our benefit in enjoying the presence of those adaptable, wonderful living beings.   
    

Mourning Doves and Canada Geese

     Mourning doves and Canada geese are legal game birds at the start of September each year in Pennsylvania farmland.  And although they are members of different families, these handsome, permanent resident birds have much in common because they share human-made habitats- the innumerable lawns and fields they have adapted to.  They demonstrate convergent evolution. 
     Both these adaptable species feed on vegetation, the abundant doves on seeds and grain in fields, and the numerous geese on short grass on lawns and fields and on grain in fields.  Both raise young on suburban lawns, the doves in flimsy twig and grass platforms in trees and the geese in grassy nurseries on the ground near built ponds, and along streams.  Both species are used to people and their activities and conduct their daily lives around human activities.  Both are exciting to see and hear when they are in flight.  The geese honk excitedly as they fly in long lines or V formations.  And we can hear the whistling of the doves' wings when those birds are in speedy flight.  It's also a pleasure to hear the doves' melancholy cooing during warmer months.  And both species have bright futures because of their adapting to changing conditions.  Today, each one of these game birds has a large population throughout much of North America, in spite of hunting pressure, accidents, and predation on them and their young.  They bring much interesting, attractive life to lawns and fields.
     Mourning doves originally inhabited woodland edges where they nested in trees and fed on weed and grass seeds in bordering clearings.  Canada geese have traditionally raised young on marshy ground in eastern Canada and wintered around the Chesapeake Bay Area.
     However, European settlers in North America long ago cleared away deep forests to create farmland, producing fields that soon became dove habitats.  And in the 1960's, the flight feathers of some breeding pairs of Canada geese were removed so that those geese were forced to raise goslings in meadows and in suburban areas in the Lower 48 States, creating a new population of Canadas whose numbers have grown so much in places that these geese have become pests there, hence the hunting season on them.       
     Mourning doves raise two young in a clutch, and they can raise up to six broods of young during the warmer months of each year; a pair of youngsters a month, on average.  But they usually don't because of crows, raccoons and other predators on eggs and small young, or from wind pushing nest and young out of the trees.
     Doves build grass cradles in trees, particularly coniferous ones that offer better shelter from predators and wind.  And both parents pump a "porridge" of pre-digested seeds into their chicks' mouths until they are able to fly and get their own food in fields.
     Canada geese hatch four to six goslings per pair in grassy nurseries, surrounded by tall vegetation, near ponds and marshes.  But some pairs of Canadas nest in raised bridge supports, crow, heron or hawk cradles of sticks in trees, and in old tires mounted over water especially for the geese.  The goslings, which are fuzzy, wide-eyed and ready to feed themselves on plants soon after birth, must leap from those elevated nesting sites to the ground or water below.  
     Because of their adaptations to human-made habitats and activities, mourning doves and Canada geese are abundant in Pennsylvania and can take hunting pressure.  But they are also interesting, exciting and attractive birds on lawns and fields throughout much of North America where hunters and non-hunters alike can easily see and appreciate them.    
    

Hayfield Critters

     For a few hours one afternoon in the middle of August of this year, I visited a few hay fields of red clover and alfalfa that were blooming together in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland.  Each field was of several acres in size and alive with migrant groups of barn swallows and tree swallows careening overhead after flying insects to grab with their mouths in mid-air and consume.  Meanwhile, swarms of fluttering yellow sulphur butterflies sipped nectar from the innumerable lovely flowers.
     The red clover blooms were pink while those of alfalfa were deep-purple and fragrant.  Those blossoms projected much beauty in themselves.  And the numerous yellow sulphurs added to that loveliness.    
     July, August and September are the months of insects in southeastern Pennsylvania, including butterflies of several kinds.  Besides the numerous "dancing"yellow sulphurs in the hayfields I visited, there were several each of other kinds of pretty butterflies, including least skippers, silver-spotted skippers, meadow fritallaries, buckeyes, cabbage whites, three species of swallowtails, painted ladies and monarchs.  Those types of butterflies were sipping nectar in those red clover and alfalfa fields because as caterpillars they ate other kinds of plants in nearby habitats.  For example, least skipper larvae ingested grasses.  Silver spotted skipper caterpillars ate soybean leaves in neighboring fields.  Fritallary larvae consumed violet leaves while black swallowtail caterpillars ate parsley and wild carrot foliage.  And monarch larvae fed on milkweed leaves. 
     I spotted other kinds of insects in those same hay fields, including a few each of lady bug beetles and Colorado potato beetles, and several each of bumble bees and carpenter bees.  The bees were busily buzzing among the lovely flowers to sip nectar, while lady bug beetles were consuming tiny insects in the hay fields.
     I also noticed several grasshoppers of a few kinds, either leaping out of my way as I walked through the red clover and alfalfa, or flying low on buzzy wings over the vegetation and crash landing among other plants to hide.  Being camouflaged among the hay plants and tall grasses, I didn't see the grasshoppers until they moved.  
     And I saw a few dark field crickets hopping over the ground at the bases of the hay field plants.
I had to look for the crickets by pushing the tall vegetation aside and peering down to the ground.
The related grasshoppers and crickets both consume the grasses and other plants in the hay fields. 
     Many grasshoppers and crickets are food for striped skunks, red foxes and American kestrels that live in Lancaster County cropland.  Some skunks and foxes live in holes dug out by wood chucks in hedgerows and rural roadsides, and then abandoned.  Kestrels live in tree hollows in those same hedgerows and roadsides.
     Wood chucks, white-tailed deer and cottontail rabbits emerge from sheltering hedgerows and woodland edges to munch on red clover and alfalfa in neighboring fields.  Sometimes, I am happy to see more than one individual of each species nibbling plants in those hay fields during lovely summer evenings.
     Try to visit red clover and alfalfa fields while they are in flowers and before they are mowed for hay.  The beauties of the blossoms and the intrigues of the wildlife are rewarding and exciting because those hay fields are human-made habitats that adaptable plants and animals have adjusted to, much to their survival, and our pleasure in experiencing them.
       

Mill Creek Life in August

     For a couple of hours in the afternoon of August 14, 2019, I visited one of my favorite nature spots, close to home, in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania's farmland.  The "spot" is an overgrown, quarter-mile long, 20 yards wide strip of young ash-leafed maples, silver maples and black walnuts, red-twigged and gray-twigged dogwood shrubbery, tall grass and flowering plants.  That beautiful, overgrown thicket of vegetation is bisected by a clear, running stream and closely paralleled by a country road. 
     My nature snooping that day became one of summer and fall wild flowers, butterflies and aquatic creatures, all of which are typical here at this time of year.
     Some of the stream-side flowers in bloom that day included lots of orange, cornocopia-shaped blooms on spotted jewelweeds, some great lobelias with dark blue blossoms, pink-flowered swamp milkweeds, the bluish-purple blossoms of blue vervains, the streamside hugging arrowhead plants with white flowers and wild mints with tiny, pale-purple blossoms.  One swamp milkweed plant was especially interesting because up to four monarch butterflies visited it at once to at least sip nectar.  Perhaps a female or two was also laying eggs, one at a time, on the milkweed's leaves.  The branching stems of the blue vervains resembled candlabras.  And several lovely, dark and rusty-red digger wasps were busily sipping nectar from the mint blossoms, pollinating them as well.
      There were other kinds of butterflies visiting those stream-side flowers that day, including spicebush swallowtails, big, yellow and black tiger swallowtails, fritillaries, silver-spotted skippers, least skippers, cabbage whites and yellow suphurs.  Those butterflies, constantly fluttering from bloom to bloom, added lots of beauty and entertainment to the flowering plants along Mill Creek.  
     I soon turned my attention to Mill Creek by sitting in an eight yard "window" composed of short grass in a dense, green wall of young trees and tall shrubbery.  That window of short vegetation allowed a view of Mill Creek. 
     There the creek was shallow, clear and about fourteen feet across.  Using 16 power binoculars, I saw a couple of small schools of banded killifish swimming upstream as they watched for tiny invertebrates to eat.  I also saw three carp, each about a foot long, groveling upstream for plant and invertebrate food in the mud on the bottom of the waterway.  Both kinds of fish blended into the bottom of the stream, which made them hard to see without binoculars, but, of course, that protects them from bald eagles, ospreys, herons and other kinds of predators.     
     While watching the fish with binoculars, I suddenly noticed two submerged mud turtles half-hidden under a leafy limb in a slower-moving part of the creek.  They were walking on the bottom of the waterway, perhaps looking for invertebrate and plant food.  I was surprised to see them because I didn't think they would be in that waterway.  Unfortunately for me, they soon crawled out of sight under the limb.
     Scanning the shoreline of Mill Creek, I spotted two young painted turtles perched on a small log to sun themselves and a big green frog sitting on a narrow, muddy shore under tall grass hanging protectively over that frog.  The paints were beautiful with red and yellow stripes on their necks and front legs and the frog probably was watching for invertebrates it could catch and swallow.
     I also saw two kinds of pretty and charming damselflies fluttering over Mill Creek, and landing on creek-side vegetation.  They were black-winged damselflies, with the males having iridescent-green abdomens and four black wings they hold up at a 45 degree angle when at rest, and bluet damselflies, with males having blue abdomens and clear wings. 
     Each of these types of damselflies were youngsters under stones on the bottom of the creek where they caught and ate tiny invertebrates.  But now as adults, they fly about looking for flying insects to eat and mates to reproduce with.  
     A few male black-winged damselflies "flutter-danced" in the sunlight over the creek, their green abdomens glistening in the sun, to attract females to them for mating.  And one pair of black-wings were spawning eggs into plants in the slow-moving shallows along a shore.
     There are other kinds of critters along this stretch of Mill Creek that I didn't see that day, including muskrats, snapping turtles, northern water snakes, mallard ducks, least sandpipers on exposed gravel bars, belted kingfishers, great blue herons, and an occasional great egret late in summer.  Red-winged blackbirds, eastern kingbirds and willow flycatchers nest in the tall grass and shrubbery along the creek earlier in the summer.  Even after abuse of this creek, and its surrounding cropland, several kinds of wildlife still live in and around it.  Because these plants and animals are adaptable, they will survive indefinitely     
    

Wet Meadow Flowers

     By late July and through August, low, wet spots in many sunny meadows in southeastern Pennsylvania, and elsewhere in the eastern United States, are made more lovely and interesting because of the pretty flowers of blue vervains, swamp milkweeds, ironweeds and Joe-Pye weeds.  These native, blooming plants have much in common, including sharing sunny, damp habitats, and blossoming about the same time.   All these tall plants have multitudes of colorful, small blossoms that are well worth seeing in sunny, bottomland meadows in the heat of late summer. 
     Blue vervains and swamp milkweeds bloom together in many of the same damper spots in some of the same meadows.  They are often lovely, floral neighbors.  Each blue vervain plant has a handsome, candalabra-shaped stalk and several tiny, bluish-purple blooms at the top of each stem.  Swamp milkweed plants have pink flowers.  The attractive flower colors of vervains and milkweeds are a pretty combination in certain low, moist meadows.
     Bees, small, but colorful butterflies and other kinds of insects sip sugary nectar from the diminutive blooms of vervains and milkweeds, pollinating those blossoms as they fly from one to another and another.  Meanwhile, caterpillars of monarch butterflies consume the juicy leaves of  milkweeds, grow, pupate, and later each one emerges from a green chrysalis as a striking butterfly.
     The purple-pink blossoms on clumps of ironweed plants in the damper parts of pastures are also beautiful, and attract many bees, pretty butterflies and other types of insects to their nectar.  While sipping nectar, those insects pollinate the ironweed blooms.  And several each of yellow and black tiger swallowtail butterflies, black and orange monarch butterflies, painted ladies, a variety of skippers and other kinds of colorful butterflies add more beauty to those flowers and the moist, sunny meadows that contain them.
     Joe-Pye-weeds, like ironweeds, usually grow in stands of their own in damp spots in pastures, and along moist roadsides in the case of the present species.  Joe-Pye is the tallest of these July and August, wet meadow plants, often growing up to twelve feet high.  This common plant is named after a Native American medicine man called Joe-Pye.
     Each striking Joe-Pye stalk has whorls of lance-shaped leaves at regular intervals along the stem, and bunches of tiny, dusty-pink flowers at the top of each stalk.  Those lovely flowers attract lots of butterflies and other insects to their nectar, again helping make the blooms and the pastures they live in more attractive and interesting.    
     These wet pasture plants' flowers, and the insects they attract, offer more beauty and intrigue to the habitat they inhabit.  The blossoms benefit insects with their ample supplies of nectar and pollen.  The plants are benefitted by the insects' spreading pollen as they fly from bloom to bloom.  And we gain lots of inspiration and joy from seeing the lovely flowers and the pretty, interesting butterflies that visit those various kinds of blossoms. 

Twilight Voices

     Late in July of 2019, we visited relatives in the wooded mountains of South Carolina for a couple of days.  And while there, we heard a whip-poor-will chanting its name from the deep woods at dusk, and a barred owl calling from that same forest the next afternoon.  It was thrilling to hear both those birds in that forested wilderness.
     As daytime bird songs fade away during summer twilights in the woods of the eastern United States, the voices of nocturnal birds can be heard, including the hooting of great horned owls and barred owls and the chanting of whip-poor-wills and Chuck-will's-widows.  All these birds nest in woods and are most active at dusk and through each night.  And they all call at dusk and into the night, giving away their wild presence, even when they are not seen. 
     Many people like to hear these birds calling at night.  Some lie in bed at night and are thrilled to hear these unseen birds that represent the mysterious nighttime woods.  I always feel privileged to hear any one of these birds calling in the night woods.
     Listening to the rthym of each species' calling identifies it.  Great horned owls' hooting generally consists of three short, quick hoots, closely followed by two long ones.  The birds of each pair of horned owls most often hoot to each other at dawn and dusk during winter, which is their time of courting.  But they also hoot anytime of the day, and year.
     Barred owls are called "eight-hooters" because their classic hooting anytime of day and year is of four hoots, a brief pause, then another four hoots.  But barred owls also utter screeches, moans and other spine-chilling calls throughout the year as well. 
     The closely related whip-poor-wills and Chuck-Will's-widows monotonously chant their names over and over and over from the woods at night.  There is a slight distinction of beat that identifies these two kinds of nightjars from each other.  I think they and their other relatives are called nightjars because they jar the night with their loud, seemingly unending, chanting.     
     Great horned owls and barred owls are permanent residents, each individual living in a woods all its life, including raising young there.  But the nightjars only come to eastern North America woods in summer to raise two chicks per pair.  In autumn, the whips migrate south to Central America where flying insects, their food, is available the year around.  And the chucks winter in Central America, the West Indies and northern South America, again where flying insects are abundant the year around.
     All these beautiful species of woodland night birds have brownish and mottled plumage that camouflages them in forests.  They are invisible until they fly.  Their blending into their shared environment protects them when perched during the day and brooding eggs and small young, the owls in the trees and the nightjars on dead-leaf forest floors.
     At night, the predatory owls catch and consume small creatures, including mice and rats, small birds, snakes, frogs and other critters.  They grab those animals in their sharp talons.  Meanwhile, nightjars use their gaping mouths to snare moths, beetles and other, larger insects in mid-air.  Obviously, each of these groups of woodlland birds have their own niche and don't compete for food, or nesting sites in their shared environment.
     The owls nest in trees early in spring, the great horns on abandoned, stick cradles made by crows or hawks in upland woods, and the barred in larger tree cavities in wooded bottomlands.  Females of each kind of owl usually lay two white eggs per clutch. 
     Female whips and chucks each lay two eggs on dead leaves on the forest floor of upland woods in May.  Brooding nightjars and their eggs and young are well camouflaged on those dead leaves.
     All these birds of the woods are enjoyable to hear during spring and summer twilights and nights.  They offer a touch of exciting woodland wilderness.                    

Expressway Pigeons

     While driving along expressways in the eastern United States, I noticed several times that little flocks of rock pigeons were perched on wires, like musical notes on sheets of music, above bridges along those highways.  Those pigeons live and raise young on support beams under those bridges where they are safe from the elements and most predators.  Only crows might be able to eat the eggs or small young of the pigeons under those protecting bridges.
     Rock pigeons are originally from the Mediterranian Sea area where they traditionally roost and nest on the rocky cliffs, safe from most predators, except peregrine falcons and other kinds of raptors.  Pigeons' feathers are mostly sooty-gray, which blends them into the color of those rocky cliffs and conceals them from predator eyes.  But they also have lighter gray on their wings, a purple and green sheen on their necks and red legs.   
     These beautiful birds were long ago domesticated for meat, eggs and sport by Europeans  and were taken everywhere on Earth by those peoples.  Many pigeons became feral and now live wild in cities and farmland throughout much of the world, including here in North America.
     Pigeons live year around in cities, and rear two offspring per brood on ledges of tall buildings during warmer months.  There they are safe from predators, except crows and certain raptors, particularly peregrine falcons.  City pigeons ingest weed seeds from vacant lots, grain from bird feeders and a variety of edibles, including peanuts and popcorn, fed to them by kindly people.
     In farmland, pigeons perch during the day on top of certain silos, which are the tallest structures on a farm, but live permanently in some barns and raise young there during warmer months.  Incidentally, each pair of rock pigeons, whatever habitat they live in, stay together for life, and produce two young a month, during warmer months in temperate climates.  And in farmland, pigeons feast on weed seeds, and grain missed by automatic harvesters in grain fields, including wheat and corn fields.  Pigeons in North America, as almost everywhere else on Earth, are totally dependent on human activities to survive.  
     Noticing rock pigeons perched in scattered rows on wires over bridges along expressways is a new, and interesting, revelation for me.  Those adaptable birds found another habitat to live and nest in, which helps increase their numbers.     
     Rock pigeons, like all species of pigeons and doves, worldwide, raise two staggered broods of young at once during warmer months.  When the first brood of offspring of a year is half-grown, the female of each pair lays two eggs in another cradle.  Both the male and female of each pair take turns brooding the second clutch of eggs and feeding the first brood until they fledge their nursery.  The second brood hatches about when the first brood leaves its nursery.  When the second brood is half-grown, the female of each pair lays two eggs in the first nursery.  The pair shares feeding and brooding responsibilities.  In this way, each pair of pigeons and doves raises an average of two young per month, IF their flimsy nests aren't blown off their supports, and if the young aren't eaten by crows, jays, raccoons, black rat snakes and other kinds of predators.
    Rock pigeons, and all pigeon and dove species, feed their young "pigeon's milk" which is a regurgitated mixture of pre-digested seeds and throat phlegm pumped into each youngster's throat.
     Pigeons have come a long way from their Mediterranean Sea cliffs.  Their adapting to human-made structures and farming activities has increased their numbers greatly, making them a successful species.  And their nesting under expressway bridges with all that unending traffic noise is a real adjustment for survival.  Life, in general, finds ways to survive.  

Farmland Swallows and Sparrows

     Several kinds of birds feed in southeastern Pennsylvania farmland in summer, including American robins, common grackles, killdeer plovers, mourning doves, Canada geese and others.  And two other cropland bird species- barn swallows and house sparrows, are small, adaptable, raise young in barns and get much of their food in nearby fields.
     However, those swallows and sparrows don't compete for food or shelter with each other, which is why they flourish in the same habitats.  And each kind rears two broods of young every summer, which increases their populations to the point of being abundant and omnipresent in summer farmland in this area.
     But barn swallows and house sparrows have characteristics that differ from each other.  And each species is built for what it does to get food.  It's entertaining to watch little flocks of the slender, streamlined swallows sweep swiftly over fields and meadows, swirling and diving after flying insects, without collision with their fellow swallows!  By mid-July, through August, many adult swallows and their young of the year scour the fields of flying insects, and line up on roadside wires to rest between feeding forays.
     Barn swallows are metallic purple on top and light orange below.  They have narrow, swept-back wings for fast flight and forked tails for mid-air maneuvers at top speed.
     Native to North America, barn swallows originally nested in the mouths of caves and on rock cliffs.  Today these adaptable birds hatch chicks on the sides of support beams in barns and under small bridges, all in farmland where insects are abundant.  They build their protecting nurseries of mud pellets from mud they gather along streams and ponds and plaster those pellets, one by one, to the beams.  Due to that adaptation, there probably are more barn swallows in North America today than ever in their history.        
     During August and September, barn swallows gather in swarms and drift south to Central America and northern South America where flying insects are abundant during northern winters.  But their mud pellet nests still cling to beams as reminders of their having been in this area.
     House sparrows are not sparrows, but weaver finches from Eurasia where they long ago adapted to agricultural practices and living in barns and village buildings.  Today in the Old World, and in the Americas, house sparrows raise young in sheltering crevices in barns and other buildings, including in cities, and feed on weed and grass seeds, "waste" grain in fields and invertebrates, all on the ground in cropland near where they hatched.  House sparrows are permanent residents and don't migrate; living all their lives in one area.  However, because of population pressures, these birds spread across the landscape, generation after generation, as some young birds seek homes near where they hatched.    
     House sparrows are brown with darker streaks, which camouflage them in fields and around nesting sites.  Males in summer are handsome with black "bibs", gray crowns and cheeks, and chestnut necks.  Though males don't sing to attract a mate, they do chirp and strut vigorously to gain a female's attention and affection.
     By mid-summer, flocks of 50 or more house sparrows, young and older, gather here and there in grain fields and along country roads to feed on invertebrates, grain missed by harvesters and weed and grass seeds.  When those flocks are on rural roads to eat spilled grain, they all fly up at once into nearby shrubbery or corn fields to perch and wait for vehicular traffic to pass by.  Then they flutter down to the road again to continue ingesting the grain off the blacktop until the next vehicle approaches.    
    When riding in farmland in summer, watch for barn swallows, house sparrows and other kinds of adaptable birds along the road and in bordering fields.  They add more pleasure to the ride.

White Clover and Fireflies

     Short-grass lawns are widespread and abundant human-made habitats in much of the United States.  Those regularly cut lawns of only a couple inches tall provide little food and cover to wildlife and seem barren.  But, besides the planted grass, two forms of life are overwhelmingly and obviously abundant on many mowed lawns- white clover and fireflies.  Together, they add much beauty and entertainment to those lawns, particularly in July.       
     Originally from Eurasia, the great abundance of white blossoms on white clover plants turn many lawns silver, because of regular lawn mowing.  Cutting clover flowers off encourages the plants to grow new blooms, week after week, all summer, and into autumn.
     Fireflies inhabit most every habitat in the eastern United States.  As larvae, these abundant native beetles inhabit soil at the plant roots level in woods, fields and lawns, where they prey on tiny snails, slugs and other invertebrates in the ground.
     And most every dusk from the third week of June until the end of July, with a peak of abundance early in July, hordes of adult, winged male fireflies crawl up grass stems and white clover plants and launch themselves into the air to find females to mate with.  They hover like thousands of tiny helicopters and flash their cold, abdominal lights to females still in the grass and clover, then fly a little higher and flash again and again.  Multitudes of blinking male fireflies create a magical, fantasy-land in the dark of July nights in woods, fields and lawns.  
     Lawns sprinkled liberally with white clover flowers are also lively with honey bees, bumble bees and other kinds of insects that buzz from blossom to blossom to sip the sugary nectar of those blooms.  Regular mowing encourages clover plants to produce new flowers every week, which provides insects with a continuous source of nectar all summer and into autumn.
     Many people benefit from fireflies and white clover on short-grass lawns.  The fireflies provide hours of intriguing beauty and white clover blooms give us beauty, and honey, through the work of female worker honey bees.  The bees sip nectar from clover blossoms and swallow it into a special stomach that changes it to honey as they fly back to their home in a tree hollow or hive.  Each bee regurgitates that honey into a waxy cell where it is stored to feed the queen bee, larvae and drones, and as food for overwintering worker females.  Bee keepers, however, extract and sell some of that stored honey, including white clover honey, and/or consume it themselves.
     The six-sided, wax cells to store honey and raise larvae, by the way, are made from honey worker bees ate and "sweated" through their bodies.  They scrape the wax off themselves to shape the cells.  And scientists discovered that six sides are the strongest shape, and most efficient use of space in nature.    
     Nature is resilient.  Even short-grass lawns are not barren of life.  White clover and fireflies live in that human-made habitat in overwhelming abundance.  And other kinds of small plants and animals reside there as well.  Some lawns are two-inch-tall "jungles" of life. 
     Lawns cover many thousands of acres in the United States.  They, and other human-made habitats, might appear barren at first, but they are not lifeless.  To me, life in built environments that serve people are inspiring because those living beings' adaptations, including multitudes of white clovers and fireflies, allow them to thrive in human-disturbed places, which increases that lifes' populations.  Built habitats are interesting to me because of the adaptable life in them; life that has a future because it can adjust to less than ideal conditions.   

W

Two Beautiful Damselflies

     For about an hour one recent, hot afternoon in the farmland of eastern Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, I was driving around a bit to see what was new in nature.  I didn't see much wildlife until I came to a clear, cold brook running through a grove of planted willow trees, and closely paralleling a rural road.  Because that stretch of road was shaded and relatively cool, I stopped to see what wildlife was in that brook, and the ground, trees and jewelweeds around it.
     Immediately, I saw more male black-winged damselflies in that 50-yard stretch of waterway than I have ever seen in other brooks of that size.  Some metallic-green, male damselflies with four black wings were fluttering together daintily, like pretty butterflies in sunbeams, above the shallow waterway, creating a beautiful, entertaining sight.  Their "dancing" was their attempts at intimidating each other away from a prime breeding site, and to attract females to the winners for mating.  I was taken with their bold iridescence in slanting shafts of sunlight that penetrated the shadows.         
     Southeastern Pennsylvania has two common kinds of damselflies, that are striking in appearance, but overlooked by most people- black-winged and bluet.  Black-wings of the broad-winged damselfly family and bluets of the narrow-winged damselflies are as lovely around clear, running water as any bird or flower is on land.
     Male black-wings have iridescent-green, or blue, bodies and four black wings they hold upright over their bodies when at rest.  Their females are brownish all over, which allows them to blend into their surroundings.  Male bluets are blue with black rings on their abdomens and four clear wings that are held above their bodies.  Their mates are similar, but paler.      
     Related to dragonflies, these two families of damselflies, and dragonflies, have characteristics in common.  Dragonflies and damselflies start life as wingless nymphs, larvae, in water.  All those nymphs eat tiny, aquatic invertebrates they find in mud or under stones.
     Nymphs of both families of damselflies have feathery-looking gills poking from the ends of their abdomens.  And they are all the color of mud and stones, which blends them into their niches, the black-wing larvae among stones in small waterways and the bluet young in the mud of ponds.
     Adults of both families of damselflies have narrow abdomens, to the point that they are almost hard to see.  Adults of both groups consume aphids and other kinds of small, soft-bodied insects on plants and in the air.  And damselflies are part of food chains because preying mantises, spiders and several kinds of birds eat them.   
     But the two-inch-long black-winged damselflies and the one-inch-long bluet damselflies also have differences.  Black-winged females spawn eggs in the tissues of plants in the slow shallows of brooks and streams in tree-shaded habitats.  Bluet females, however, place their eggs on mats of alga, or other vegetation, in sun-warmed, still ponds.  These damselfly species reduce competition for living space and food with each other by being adapted to different niches.  And being adapted to different niches created each kind of damselfly.
     Interestingly, male black-winged damselflies repeatedly open their black wings slowly, then snap them shut when they are perched on brookside vegetation.  This probably is a communication to female black-wings that they are present and available for mating.        
     The attractive bluet damselflies are also entertaining to watch, but in different ways than the black-wings.  Bluets often form groups on floating mats of alga and other aquatic plants where they mate and lay eggs on the wet vegetation.  They also dart about, often in pairs, over the water when chasing each other or potential prey.  But bluets are so thin they are often difficult to see over or on the sky-reflecting waters' surfaces.  One has to look closely to spot them.
     Look for these two kinds of damselflies in appropriate habitats.  Though unknown insects, they are big in beauty and intrigue.