Red-wings and Yellow-heads

     It's always thrilling to me to see north-bound flocks of red-winged blackbirds winging into Lancaster County, Pennsylvania early in March.  Handsome male red-wings are black with red shoulder patches that flash and flicker like red coals in a furnace when great masses of these birds are in flight.
      Male yellow-headed blackbirds of the American mid-west are equally striking with their yellow heads, throats and chests, and white wing patches, on black-feathered bodies.  Males of both these kinds of blackbirds are exciting and inspiring to experience, either in pure groups of one or the other species in flight, or in mixed gatherings of both species together, allowing us to see all the brilliant colors of these blackbird species.
     The greatest beauties of the males of each kind of blackbird is most evident when the birds are flying in flocks, particularly mixed groups.  And males of both species raise their wings when swaying on top of cattails, phragmites, reeds and tall grasses to sing through spring and summer, which shows off the red or white wing patches to females of each kind.  Those striking colors attract females of each type to the males for mating and raising young.  Furthermore, those colors repel other males of each species, and they are a joy for us to see.
     Though not great songsters, male blackbirds' singing is representative of cattail, reedy and grassy marshes, which is a joy to hear.  Red-wing males repeatedly utter a simple "kon-ga-reeee" while lifting their wings and swaying on a plant.  Male yellow-heads strain out a wheezy, buzzy string of notes that hardly can be called singing.  Yet both kinds of vocalizations are successful in attracting females of each kind to mate and rear offspring.
     The related and adaptable red-winged blackbirds and yellow-headed blackbirds nest abundantly in freshwater marshes across much of North America.  Red-wings hatch young across most of North America, from northwestern Canada, across southern Canada, in all of the United States and the northern part of Mexico.  Yellow-heads, however, nest in the western half of the United States and southwestern Canada.  Obviously, their ranges overlap in western North America, filling somewhat similar niches and, perhaps, causing some rivalry for territories and food in their limited habitats.
     The camouflaged, but, in their own way, attractive female red-wings and yellow-heads tend to nursery building and egg laying, while their handsome mates sing to maintain territory and chase away rivals and predators, with much excited calling and swift diving at the interlopers.  Both genders of each species walks on the ground in fields and other open habitats to feed on invertebrates, seeds and grain.  And both genders of each kind help feed the young until their independence.    
     Beautiful and abundant birds, red-wings and yellow-heads are always a joy to see and hear in spring and summer on fresh-water marshes where they nest, or in great hordes on the wing.  One can spot their beauties in marshes and fields across most of North America, adding more inspiration to human life attuned to nature.    

Bottomland Floor Plants

     When cheery, yellow dandelion blossoms and lovely blue violet flowers are at their peak of blooming abundantly on southeastern Pennsylvania lawns from mid to late April, I know to look for the large leaves of skunk cabbage, the umbrella leaves of May apples, the pink blooms of spring beauty wild flowers and other flowering plants on the floors of woods and meadows, each bisected by clear-running brooks.  I did just that again, on April 22 of this year, and saw several kinds of beautiful, interesting plants.
     I visited the edges of four varying-sized patches of bottomland woods in farmland in eastern Lancaster County and western Chester County, and adjacent pastures, to again view floor plants. These bottomland woods and meadows exist today because the soil has always been too wet to cultivate.  But trees could be removed in some areas, and they were to create grazing pastures for farm animals. 
     It's interesting that skunk cabbage, May apples and spring beauties, all native woodland vegetation, have continued to live in the many sunny meadows they were forced to adjust to when shade-producing trees were eliminated.  I have seen many grassy pastures patched and carpeted with one or more kinds of these lovely, adaptable woodland plants. 
     In some pastures, these woodland plants are neighbors to the long ago sun-adapted cattails.  Nesting red-winged blackbirds perch on cattail and skunk cabbage leaves to sing their territorial songs.
     I found the large, upright leaves of skunk cabbage in every bottomland woods and some bottomland meadows I visited that April day.  Skunk cabbage flower hoods sprout in this area by early February and their leaves start to grow by the end of that month.  Early insects visit the flower hoods to sip nectar from the flowers and black bears eat the large leaves early in spring.
     I saw patches of May apples in some bottomland woods and meadows.  Each clump of them resembles a group of elves standing together among green pastures and woods.  Each older May apple has two umbrella leaves and will open a white flower early in May.  Younger May apples have one umbrella.
     Pretty, pink patches of spring beauties carpeted parts of some woodland and meadow floors that I saw that day.  Those wild flowers help beautify spring woods and pastures in this area.  It's been stated that Native Americans of the eastern woodlands dug up spring beauty bulbs, boiled them and ate them as we do white potatoes.
     There were other kinds of interesting plants in those bottomland woods and meadows that sunny April day.  One pasture had a few each of tall black alder trees and silver maple trees in it.  The maples had green seeds hanging on their twigs.  A woodlot, and a meadow adjacent to it, was dominated by red maple trees, white oak trees and pin oak trees.  The red maples had small red seeds on their twigs.
     Spice bushes dominated the shrub layer of those two woodlands.  Each spice bush had clusters of tiny, yellow flowers along its twigs.  And the twigs, as always, had a spicy fragrance when a tiny bit of bark was peeled away.
     Swamp-loving cinnamon ferns were abundant in one woodlot.  Each leaf of each fern looked like a fiddle head as the leaf uncurled as it grew taller.
     Patches of glossy-leafed, yellow-flowered lesser celandines were cheery on the floodplain of a long, thin riparian woods.  Several partially-shaded floodplains are carpeted yellow with the alien lesser celandines.
     Native trout lily plants with their twin, dappled leaves and single yellow bloom carpeted another wooded floodplain.  They might have been named such because they bloom during trout season or because their leaves are spotted like the flanks of trout.
     I saw several kinds of beautiful plants in bottomland woods and meadows that day.  And they all probably have a good future because the soggy soil of those habitats can't be readily developed.            
    

Creekside Thicket Birds

     For an hour one sunny afternoon during the second week in April of this year, I visited a quarter-mile strip of a creek that closely parallels the country road I was on in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  The creek there is thinly-lined and sparsely-patched with thickets of young trees, including ash-leafed maples, silver maples, black walnuts, mulberries and river birches, and red-twigged dogwood shrubbery, all of which provide shelter and food for certain, adaptable kinds of wildlife in cropland.  That waterway and its thickets are an oasis for wild creatures. 
     At one little thicket of river birches, mulberries and red-twigged dogwoods right along the creek, I spotted a pair of northern cardinals, several common grackles and a few each of red-winged blackbirds and American robins foraging on the ground.  The striking cardinals were eating seeds, but the other birds were consuming invertebrates.
     Looking closer, I also saw several kinds of smaller birds on the ground under the cover of those woody plants.  These attractive, interesting birds, including a pair each of permanent resident song sparrows and Carolina wrens, a wintering winter wren, a few each of wintering white-throated and white-crowned sparrows, a migrating palm warbler, and a few migrant swamp sparrows, were eating invertebrates and seeds. But they were not easy to see because they blended into their soil and shrubbery background.  Woody-barked plants and little brush piles provide the cover that hold these birds to that thicket along a creek in a short-grass meadow.
     The handsome song sparrows and Carolina wrens particularly like to live and nest in brush heaps that offer protection to them and their offspring.  But song sparrows also raise young in grass nests in tall grass and low in shrubbery in thickets, perhaps reducing competition for food and shelter between these species.
     The male song sparrow and Carolina wren each sang beautifully on occasion to let his ownership of that thicket be known to the bird community, especially other males of their respective kinds.  In this way, the birds spread themselves out so they will have ample food to feed their young.   
     The little, brown song sparrows and Carolina wrens are like sandpipers when they roam the long, thin mudflats along waterways to pick up and eat invertebrates.  The sparrows also consume weed and grass seeds on those flats, again reducing rivalry for food with Carolina wrens.  
     The tiny, brown winter wren probably lived along this waterway all winter, where it fed on invertebrates it found in brush piles and among tree roots along stream banks.  It scurried about like a feathered mouse, darting in and out of brush piles and tree roots, as it looked for food.
     The handsome white-throated sparrows and white-crowned sparrows probably wintered in that creek-side thicket through that harshest of seasons, eating grass and weed seeds all winter.  But in a few weeks, they and the winter wren will migrate farther north to their nesting territories, not to return until the following autumn.
     I also saw two beautiful species of north-bound kinds of birds in that little creek-side thicket, including a palm warbler and a few swamp sparrows.  Both species inhabit bottomlands near water and look for invertebrates and seeds on the ground to eat.  The warbler also snares flying insects in mid-air.  Both these kinds of birds probably won't stay in that little thicket long, as they will continue their migrations farther north to rear offspring.  
     These are a few kinds of pretty, interesting bird species I spotted in a creekside thicket in April.  Some are permanent residents, while others are migrants.  But all are adapted to weedy, bottomland thickets along smaller waterways where they find food and shelter through the year.  I was happy to experience those little birds while they were here.      
          

Spring Near Home in Mid-April

     Spring inches forward through mid-February and March, but suddenly explodes in the middle of April, because of increased daylight and warmth each succeeding day.  On April 12th of this year, I drove through New Holland, Pennsylvania and in the surrounding farmland on errands, with an eye on what was happening in nature along the way.  Readers in the Middle Atlantic States can see the same obvious, beautiful signs of the vernal season while riding through towns and countryside.
     Driving through town, I noticed the short grass on lawns was getting greener and plants of several kinds were in full bloom, or soon will be.  Red maple trees with red blossoms, Bradford pear trees that have white flowers and two kinds of magnolia trees were in bloom, as well as forsythia bushes with their yellow blossoms.  The purple flowers of grape hyacinth plants and the yellow of daffodil blooms were obvious in flower beds.  And the light-blue patches of tiny Veronica flowers on prostrate plants, pink blooms on dead nettles, yellow dandelion blossoms and the lovely blue-violet of blue violet blooms dotted and sprinkled many short-grass lawns.  
     I also saw several pretty American robins, one or two here and there, on lawns as they searched for earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates to eat.  One robin had dead grass poking out of each side of her beak because she was making a nursery in a fork of a nearby, young tree.
     And I noticed several common grackles in little groups walking across lawns in their looking for invertebrates to consume.  One grackle had dried grass in her bill as she walked about to get more.
     Driving through cropland around New Holland, I noticed rye was getting taller and greener in the fields, freshening the landscape.  I also saw great carpets of pale-blue Veronica flowers and pink dead nettles on the mostly bare soil of harvested corn fields from last year.  And the yellow flowers of dandelions and field mustards were blooming along the shoulders of those rural roads.  All those blossoms together offer much beauty and cheer to Lancaster County cropland in April.  
     I stopped at a meadow where I saw a few each of beautiful barn swallows and tree swallows careening low and swiftly over the short grass and creek in that pasture after flying insects to ingest.  Watching the entertaining swallows, I thought "hurray, the swallows are back for another summer breeding season".  Barn swallows will hatch young on support beams in barns and under bridges and tree swallows will raise offspring in tree hollows, and boxes erected for them and bluebirds to nest in.       A few each of robins and red-winged blackbirds were in the short grass of that same pasture in search of invertebrates to eat.  Male red-wings are jet black with red shoulder patches they lift when singing to establish nesting territories and mates.  Female red-wings are brown and dark-streaked, which camouflages them on their cradles while incubating eggs.
     I saw a pair of striking wood ducks hiding under tree limbs hanging over the water in that section of creek lined by a patch of tall, riparian trees.  Those ducks may have been taking a break from looking for a tree cavity in a sycamore tree or ash-leafed maple tree, the latter one being loaded with silky,decorative tassels (pollen-producing, male flowers).  Or the woodies might select a nesting box erected by interested farmers.  Both sites are used by female woodies to hatch ducklings.
     Driving on, I came to a quarter-acre pond and shallow puddles in another meadow in farmland.  Right away I spotted a dozen stately Canada geese grazing on tender, short grass.  And one goose was setting on eggs in a grassy nest on one bank of the pond.
     And I immediately saw two dozen or more common grackles in this pasture around the pond and puddles.  The grackles were looking for invertebrates among the short grass and around the shallows in that meadow.  I spotted one grackle gathering dried grass in her bill to make a nest, presumably in one of a circle of twelve, half-grown Scotch pines planted around the pond.  Without doubt, other female grackles will soon be doing the same.  
     Other kinds of critters were around that pond in a meadow.  A pair of fish crows called to each other while I was there.  Perhaps, they will raise young in a stick cradle in a Scotch pine.
     And I spotted four painted turtles sunning themselves on a bank of the pond.  The air lately as been warm enough for these cold-blooded creatures to be active again after a winter's dormancy.
     I drove by a strip of riparian trees on a floodplain, prone to occasional flooding, along another creek near New Holland.  As always, at this time of year, the floor of that bottomland woods was covered with the striking, bright-yellow of lesser celandine blooms.  And I noticed that patches of garlic mustard plants and stinging nettle were already covering the woodland floor where the celandine was not.  All those floor plants and the roots of the trees help prevent soil erosion on those floodplains.
     Spring explodes in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania by the middle of April.  It was a joy, as always, to be in nature and see its beauties and intrigues among human habitats and activities.       
     

Cranes on the Platte

     The Platte River on the mid-western prairie in southcentral Nebraska is the spring staging area of the greatest annual gathering of north-migrating birds in North America.  During March and into early April, over 600,000 migrant sandhill cranes congregate each evening for about six weeks on the sand bars and shallows of the Platte, a night-time habitat that probably makes them feel safe.
     Sandhill cranes winter in southern Texas, New Mexico and Arizona.  Their first major stop in their annual journey north to Canada, Russia and the Great lakes area to raise young is the Platte River with its many braids of shallow water and sand bars in the American mid-western prairie.  There they rest every night in March and early April and feed in Nebraska corn fields each day as they wait for spring to catch up to their restless urges to push north.  
     I've been watching the great, miraculous pageant of migrant sandhills on the Platte almost every early morning and late evening this spring on our computor.  The cranes leave the river every morning to feed mostly on waste corn kernels in Nebraska's many, large harvested corn fields.  The cranes' adapted to eating corn and flourish in abundance on it during their spring migration north.  
     Every evening during spring, these hundreds of thousands of sandhill cranes return, flock after flock after flock, to the Platte's sand bars and shallows to rest for the night.  At first, only a few groups of them are seen in the distance.  But, in a short time, more and more gangs of cranes appear in the distance as the first groups seen circle the Platte to finally settle on it.  Soon many long lines and V's of sandhills, first appearing as scribbles in the far-off sky in all directions, glide across the sky like wavelets sliding up a beach.  The first incoming groups of cranes are on the river while many other flocks, both near and distant, rapidly approach the lovely waterway.  Closer congregations of cranes resemble silhouetted strings of beads moving swiftly across the sky.  
     Bunching up more and more as the minutes tick by and darkness increases, incoming groups of cranes, with many of them croaking at once in an unending din, become masses as those large, stately birds circle the river again and again and lower and lower to the gently flowing water.  Now one can see the long, dangling legs of each crane.  And as each pinwheeling mass of sandhills repeatedly passes close over the river, several birds drop out of it with each pass and land on a sand bar or a shallow with many others of their kind.  Meanwhile, more and more and more masses of cranes circle the Platte as evening progresses.  And they, too, will, finally, settle on the river, creating great congregations of sandhills all yelling at once, causing an ear-splitting, but wonderful, din of crane voices.    
    Close to dark, the sky and river are full of scribbles, strings and masses of croaking sandhill cranes.  And still scribbles of them come forward from the distance.  They seem to come to the Platte with no end in sight, even when darkness prevails, judging from their croaking in the sky when they are no longer visible.  But, I suppose, they all, finally, settle on the shallows and sand bars of the Platte River for the night, amid their incessant, gutteral trills.
     The evening flights of sandhill cranes are wonderful enough in themselves, but magnificent sunsets add to the beauty and wildness of the cranes and the Platte on the mid-western prairie.  Striking sunsets silhouette the noisy cranes in flight as they approach the lovely, sky-reflecting Platte, creating a near-religious, natural experience almost beyond belief.
     The cranes stand, tightly-packed, on sand bars and in shallows of the Platte all night.  But early each morning in March and early April, the majestic cranes leave the Platte, gang after noisy gang, to feed in corn fields, creating yet another wild spectacle as they depart the river.
     I saw other kinds of wildlife on the Platte while watching the magnificent flights of the cranes on our computer screen.  Several times I saw pairs of Canada geese, a few ring-billed gulls or little groups of common merganser ducks on the Platte, but not all at once.  Sometimes, I saw the mergansers diving under water after small fish.  And once I saw three bald eagles fighting over a dead crane on a sand bar.
     One lovely evening under a wonderful sunset, I was happy to see eleven white-tailed deer wading through the shallows of the Platte from one shore to the other.  And the next beautiful evening I excitedly counted 24 American white pelicans resting together on that same river.
     Seeing masses of majestic sandhill cranes and other wildlife on the Platte River was exciting and satisfying to me.  The great sandhill migration in spring is one of innumerable, wonderful natural happenings on this planet that we can enjoy, and be inspired by.  
     

Red Maple Flowers

     Driving through New Holland, Pennsylvania today, April 2, 2019, I noticed red blooms on planted red maple trees along streets and on lawns.  Red maple blossoms are part of the beauties of late March through the first half of April in this part of the United States.  The red flowers of this kind of tree create a lovely red hue among the twigs in the trees' canopies.
     Red maple trees are native to the eastern half of the United States and are best adapted to moist soil in wooded bottomlands.  But red maples are also commonly planted for several reasons.  They have pretty blooms in April, attractive red seeds and green leaves in summer, striking red foliage in fall and crimson buds in winter.  They are also handsomely shaped the year around, provide shade in summer, and younger trees have appealingly smooth bark that is most noticeable in winter.
     But their flowers are their greatest beauties in April.  Female blooms hang in little clusters and are longer and sturdier than male ones.  Male blossoms hang in small clusters, with yellow, pollen-laden tips.  Male flowers are shorter and more fluffy-looking than female ones.
     Planted crocuses and daffodils bloom when planted red maple trees do, adding to the beauty of lawns.  And at this time, groups of American robins and purple grackles perch among the red-colored blossoms of red maples.  Male robins sing beautifully from red maples in April, especially at dusk.  All this is part of the beauties of spring on suburban lawns.
     However, I think stands of wild red maples in damp, wooded bottomlands are the most beautiful, particularly in April and October, when they sport red flowers, and leaves, respectively.  The red canopies of many red maples growing together are pretty in themselves.  And those canopies identify moist ground, even when the tree tops are seen from a distance.   
     Clumps of red blossoms on red maple trees umbrella a variety of damp, woodland floor plants and wildlife.  Skunk cabbage hoods and leaves, shining club moss, which are fern allies and a  variety of mosses are some of those plant species. 
     The ancient, blended concerts of peeping male spring peeper frogs and trilling male American toads in shallow pools and ponds under stands of sunlight-soaked, blooming red maples in April are joyously entertaining, particularly during pleasant, sunny evenings  Those primeval calls bring the genders of each species of tailless amphibians together for spawning in those inches-deep waters.
     Meanwhile, a pair or two of bugling Canada geese might wing over the maples' red canopies while a pair of wood ducks looks for a nesting cavity in one of the larger trees.  And at dusk, off and on through the night, an American woodcock or two might poke their long beaks into the soft, damp ground to pull out earthworms and other invertebrates to eat.   
     The red of red maple canopies, and the plants and animals among and under them, add much beauty to April in the northeastern United States.  Those red maples are well worth getting out to see.