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.
Monday, December 30, 2019
Monday, December 23, 2019
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.
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.
Friday, December 13, 2019
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.
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.
Monday, December 9, 2019
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.
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.
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