FARMLAND BROOK FAUNA

     Black-winged damselflies and tiny forget-me-not flowers together are summer beauties along stony-bottomed brooks in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania's farmland.  Male damselflies have black wings and iridescent-green bodies that are particularly beautiful in rays of sunlight as those predatory insects flutter butterfly-like over shaded, clear-water brooks.  Adult damselflies prey on flying insects they catch over and near small waterways.  
     Female damselflies of this species spawn in those little waterways where their larvae grow up by eating tiny invertebrates under submerged stones.
     Forget-me-not flower petals are pale blue and surround yellow stamens, which makes lovely bouquets of blossoms along water lines.  And they are especially beautiful when male damselflies rest on them.
     Though they are small and appear barren, deeper "holes" or pools in shallow, narrow brooks of flowing fresh, clear water in this county's cropland, as elsewhere, have slower currents, allowing fish and other creatures to have homes without fighting swift flows of water.  Each hole has its own community of interesting water critters, all of which are enjoyable to see in the clear, sparkling water.
     Each deeper pool is gouged out by its small waterway's swift current.  Mud and stones are washed out by the water's flow and carried downstream, creating a deeper bed.
     Water in Lancaster County brooks are usually clear, allowing a person to see to the bottom of each pool.  And that crystalline water and its inhabitants are intriguing to experience.   
     Water striders inhabit the surfaces of many holes in brooks, where they capture and suck the juices out of helpless land invertebrates fallen on the water's surfaces.  Striders are dark-gray on top, which camouflages them against the waterway bed.  And, like all insects, striders have three pairs of legs.  The back pair they use as skis on water, without breaking through, the middle pair function as skis and poles to thrust these insects forward over the water and the front pair serve to capture prey and to ski on the water.
     I've also seen lovely bluet and violet-tail damselflies hovering over these deeper pools in shallow brooks.  These small, thin damselfly species have much the same life cycles as black-winged damselflies.    
     Mayfly and stonefly larvae need good water quality to survive.  They live under stones on the bottoms of waterways and feed on detritus, and algae on rocks.  And, many of them, in turn, are eaten by crayfish, small fish and damselfly larvae.  Many adult mayflies and stoneflies on the wing are consumed by bats, swallows and other creatures.
     Black-nosed dace are small, attractive fish living in many brooks.  This species needs good quality water to survive.  Dace are about two inches long, dark on top, which camouflages them, and have a black line on each flank from nose to tail, which breaks up their form.  They are stream-lined to easily swim into the current.  In June, males have beautiful orange fins and flanks, which shows their readiness to spawn. Dace constantly face into the water flow to watch for invertibrates and other edibles coming toward them.         
     Blunt-nosed minnows, banded killifish and Johnny darters are small fish that have life histories similar to that of dace because they all share the same habitats.  The minnows look like dace, but are bigger.  Darters live among rocks on he bottoms of brooks because they have no air bladders to keep them buoyant in mid-water.  Herons, kingfishers and northern water snakes feed on these small fish.
     Crayfish live in many holes in brooks.  They are crustaceans that look like their bigger cousins- the lobsters.  Crayfish are scavengers, feeding on algae and decaying plants and animals on the floors of pools.  They are camouflaged and difficult to see until they crawl forward or jet backward with a flip of their tails.  Some are eaten by raccoons and herons. 
     Handsome fishing spiders sit in ambush on plants that extend into the water, the only spider to do that.  These large,brown spiders pounce on invertebrates, tadpoles and tiny fish that venture near.  Some of these spiders, in turn, are eaten by birds, green frogs and larger fish.
     A few each of attractive green frogs and pretty painted turtles can be spotted in some clear pools in brooks.  The frogs feed on insects and spiders, while the turtles ingest snails, scuds, which are a small crustacean, other kinds of invertebrates and water plants.
     Little, deeper holes in brooks are not devoid of life.  Many kinds of water creatures call them home, and we can enjoy seeing those animals in summer.    

HERPETOFAUNA IN FARMLAND STREAMS

     One recent June afternoon, while scanning the opposite shore of a clear-flowing stream with binoculars, I saw a few handsome painted turtles sunning themselves on that stream bank.  And as I admired the red and yellow stripes on those turtles' necks and front legs, I heard a chorus of green frogs belching from the same waterway.  Again using binoculars, I saw a few of those google-eyed frogs half-hidden in the blobs of algae in still water along the stream's shoreline.   
     Certain kinds of amphibians and reptiles are declining in numbers in southeastern Pennsylvania, but other species seem to be holding their own here, including in slow stretches of flowing streams and creeks in this area's farmland, a human-made habitat that is not ideal for herpetofauna to live in.
     People generally think of these creatures living in ponds and marshes of standing water, and they do.  But green frogs, bull frogs, Fowler's toads, painted turtles, snapping turtles and northern water snakes have adapted to residing in the more placid currents of smaller, fast-running waterways, which increases the living space, food resources and numbers of these aquatic creatures.  These amphibians and reptiles are the most omnipresent and readily seen and heard in local waterways.
     All these creatures are cold-blooded, so they are dormant and hidden away in winter.  But they are active and noticeable in the warmer days of each year.  
     All these herps are greenish or brownish; well camouflaged, which blends them into their habitats for their own protection against predators, including herons, mink, raccoons and other species.  And these amphibians and reptiles are secretive, and quiet for the most part.  They hide in shoreline vegetation where predators usually can't see them. 
     However, painted turtles and northern water snakes regularly bask in sunlight on rocks, shorelines and limbs fallen in waterways.  They do that to warm up to have the energy to hunt food and mates.  But basking can make those creatures more visible. 
     Female snakes that give live birth also bask in sunshine to provide warmth for the growth of embryos inside them.  Female water snakes generally give birth by the beginning of September.
      All these critters, except painted turtles, are totally carnivorous.  Frogs and toads ingest invertebrates, snapping turtles consume fish, ducklings and other creatures, and water snakes eat frogs, tadpoles and small fish.  Painted turtles ingest water snails and other small creatures, but also lots of aquatic plants.
     These species of herpetofauna have different ways of reproducing.  Male frogs and toads either croak, moan or trill in slow, shallow water, according to their kind.  Each female frog or toad spawns hundreds of eggs in gelatin-like blobs or strings, again according to its type, in sluggish water.  Turtles, however, lay eggs in holes they dig in the soil near the water they live in.  June is when most turtles lay eggs.    
     These kinds of herpetofauna do live in quiet water in southeastern Pennsylvania cropland.  But they also dwell in slow parts of streams and creeks here, which has helped maintain the populations of these amphibians and reptiles.  Adapting is a key to success.

SWIFTS AND SWALLOWS

     Chimney swifts and four kinds of swallows are interesting to watch on the wing to catch flying insects with their beaks during the warmer months here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, as elsewhere.  All migrants that wintered farther south, these small, streamlined birds sweep and swerve swiftly and gracefully through the air much of each day, every day, to catch their prey, and creating a show that people can enjoy.
     Although swifts are related to hummingbirds, they are built more like swallows because of convergent evolution.  Swifts and swallows have nearly identical lifestyles in a shared habitat, which shapes them into similar-looking creatures to make the best use of that habitat.  Both groups of small birds are streamlined and have long, powerful wings and flight muscles for swift, sustained flight.  And both groups have large mouths for their body size so they can snare their prey on the wing.    
     Swifts generally are higher in the sky than the swallows when gleaning insects from the air, which reduces competition among these birds for food.  And, although these birds weave speedily among their fellows while snaring flying insects, I've never seen them collide with each other.  They obviously have quick reflexes.
     These insect-eating birds are also interesting in their adapting to feeding and nesting in human-made habitats, including farmland, cities and suburbs.  Swifts and swallows are probably more abundant today because of that adapting than they ever were in their life histories.
     Chimney swifts traditionally raise young in protective hollow, broken-off trees in the eastern United States.  But these adaptable birds are now nesting down the inside of certain chimneys, which, to them, are like hollow, broken-off trees.
     Each pair of smoky-hued swifts in flight snaps off tiny, dead twigs from trees and glues those twigs to the inside wall of a chimney to make a cradle for their young, using their own saliva as a glue!  Parent swifts feed insects to their offspring on those twiggy platforms.  And the first flights of young swifts need to be good to exit the chimneys they were born in.
     Great swarms of post-breeding chimney swifts swirl, round and round, over large chimneys in cities and suburbs around sunset each evening in August.  Round and round, each horde of swifts spins over its chimney of choice, with numbers of swifts dropping into the gaping, sky-pointing hole with each pass.  At first, a few swifts enter the chimney, then more and more with each spiral until the remaining revolving mass of birds sweeps down the chimney like smoke in reverse.  Now all the swifts are down their protective, vertical shelter for the night, each bird clinging upright with its tiny, sharp toe nails imbedded into the rough surface of the chimney's inner wall.
     In September, flocks of swifts migrate south to northern South America where they spend the northern winter catching flying insects.  But next April, they will be back in the United States again, ready to raise young.
     Barn swallows are so-named because they raise young in mud-pellet nurseries plastered to support beams in barns and under small bridges in farmland.  They traditionally nested on cliffs and the mouths of caves in North America.  But they obviously have adapted to building their mud cradles in human-made structures.        
     Barn swallows pick up mud in their beaks and fly each mud pellet, one at a time, to their nest site on the side of a support beam, where they plaster that pellet to the beam.  They make a cup-like structure with an open top to receive their eggs.  Adults feed their progeny flying insects.
     Barn swallows are iridescent purple on top and orange below, with males having deeper colors than their mates.  These swallows scatter over farmland to catch flying insects and line up on roadside wires between feeding forays to rest and digest.  By August, they begin gathering for their migration south to Central and northern South America to pass the northern winter catching flying insects.  But they will be back in North America the next April. 
     Tree swallows and purple martins traditionally hatch chicks in tree cavities in North American cropland, the former species in single hollows, while the colonial-nesting martins need multiple holes near each other.  Single bird houses are erected for tree swallows to nest in, while apartment bird boxes are erected for martins.  Those built cavities have greatly increased the numbers of the adaptable tree swallows and martins over the years.
     Tree swallows and martins are attractive as they zip over meadows, fields and lakes after flying insects.  Male tree swallows are iridescent blue on top and white below, while their mates are more grayish above.  Male martins are iridescent deep-purple all over while female martins are gray on top and dingy-white underneath.
     Tree swallows and martins also line up on roadside wires between feeding forays and during their migrations south for the winter.  Sometimes large numbers of each kind are seen on wires, causing great spectacles, as they rest and digest the insects they caught.
     Rough-winged swallow pairs are look-alikes, with both genders being gray-brown.  Traditionally, individual pairs of these swallows either dig nesting holes in stream banks, or use abandoned belted kingfisher burrows in those same stream banks to raise youngsters.
     Today, some pairs of rough-wings nest in drainage pipes under bridges over smaller waterways and in retaining walls at waterways.  Those human-made nesting sites are fine until heavy rain flushes out young, grassy nursery and all.  Some pairs start over, if it is not too late in the season.
     Swifts and swallows are interesting to observe catching insects in the air.  And they have intriguing life histories.  And they are built similarly because they share a niche of careening through the air after flying insects.            

SMALL, SUBURBAN-NESTING BIRDS

     Several kinds of small birds nest in suburban areas in southeastern Pennsylvania, and across much of the northeastern United States.  Some species traditionally nest in deciduous woods, some in conifers, and others in shrubbery.  All these habitats exist, in miniature, in suburbs, including ours, thus drawing in the birds.
     Each bird species is as attractive and interesting on lawns dotted with trees and bushes as they are in their original habitats.  Because each kind of bird has its own niche and foods, there is little competition for food and nesting sites among these species.  And through their adapting to suburbs for raising young, these birds have higher populations and we humans have the joy of experiencing their beauties at home.
     Song sparrows are adaptable thicket birds that rear offspring in suburban shrubbery.  This species ingests invertebrates during warmer months, but eats seeds in winter and regularly comes to bird feeders.  Like all sparrows, these are brown and darkly-streaked, which camouflages them among bushes.  Male song sparrows sing lovely, lively songs from warm afternoons in mid-February into the middle of summer.
     Downy woodpeckers, chickadees, tufted titmice, white-breasted nuthatches and house wrens, being woodland birds, nest in used woodpecker holes and other tree cavities, and boxes erected for them to hatch youngsters.  All these kinds of small birds are permanent residents, except the house wrens, which are migratory.  These species don't all nest in every suburban area.  Each suburb has its own community of nesting birds.
     All these birds are camouflaged among trees and consume invertebrates during warmer months.  Male titmice whistle "Peter, Peter, Peter ........" while male house wrens sing lively, bubbly songs.  All these types of birds, except the wrens, visit feeders in winter.  
     Many pairs of migratory chipping sparrows and permanent resident house finches build nurseries in planted arborvitae, or northern white cedar trees, on lawns.  The look-alike genders of chippies have rufous crowns, while male finches have pink on their heads, chests, wings and tails.  Female house finches, however, are gray with darker streaking, which camouflages them.
     Male chippers regularly sing a dry trill that identifies them.  Male house finches, however, sing bubbly, cheerful songs as early as warm afternoons in February.
     American goldfinches and ruby-throated hummingbirds hatch babies in petite, beautiful cradles in sapling trees on some lawns.  Male goldfinches are bright-yellow with black wings and tails, and a jaunty black "cap" on their foreheads.  They sing lively tunes, often while in roller-coaster flight.
     The olive-yellow female goldfinches build their lovely nurseries of fine grass, thistle down and spider webs, and attach those nests to crotches of twigs with more spider webbing.  Goldfinches feed their young a regurgitated porridge of pre-digested seeds, particularly thistle seeds.           
     Female hummers make lovely, tiny nurseries of plant down and spider webs, and attach those cradles to the tops of twigs with more spider webbing.  Then they camouflage their charming creations with bits of lichens.  Those petite cradles aren't generally noticed by humans from below.  Mother hummingbirds feed flower nectar and tiny insects to their nestlings.
     And there are a few other kinds of small birds that build nurseries on buildings and other human constructions.  These birds are Carolina wrens, house sparrows and chimney swifts.
     Permanent resident Carolina wrens build cradles in all kinds of odd places, including inside garages and sheds, under porches and decks, inside outdoor grills and so on.  They also build nurseries in firewood piles and rock fences.  What they are seeking, of course, is shelter for their babies, which they feed a variety of invertebrates.
     Resident house sparrows raise young in crevices in buildings and other, human-made objects.  One house sparrow nesting site that's been used by them for many years is a metal box with a hole in it on an utility pole.
     But the neatest nurseries in suburbs are those of chimney swifts down the inside of certain chimneys.  This type of swift winters in northern South America, but migrates to the United States to raise young.  Each swift flies about most of each day, all summer, in pursuit of flying insects to ingest and feed their young.
     Chimney swifts in flight snap off tiny twigs from trees.  They fly down inside their protecting nesting chimneys with those twigs and glue each one to the inside wall to create a platform, using their own saliva as a glue.  They lay their four eggs per female on those twig cradles.
     These small, adaptable birds make suburban lawns more appealing and interesting.  And these species have higher populations because of increased nesting sites in the human-made habitats they adapted to.         
    

TROPICS COME NORTH

     One sunny summer afternoon, I was sitting on top of a wooded stream bank and looking down through leafy boughs to the clear-running creek below when I suddenly saw a beautiful male Baltimore oriole fly low over the water.  Looking at him from above, his brilliant, black and orange plumage pattern was exceptionally striking to me.  His bright feathering among the green foliage of summer made me think of tropical America where he, and other kinds of beautiful, summering birds about his size in southeastern Pennsylvania, and elsewhere, go to escape northern winters.  These attractive, brightly-colored birds help bring the colorful tropics north for the summer.  And I have seen them all over the years. 
     Two species each of orioles, grosbeaks and tanagers have adapted to raising young each summer in southeastern Pennsylvania's agricultural areas, and elsewhere.  By adjusting to raising young in less than ideal conditions for each kind of tropical bird, these migrant species have prospered and maintained their numbers, for the most part, in spite of human activities and encroachment.  It pays to be adaptable.   
     Males of each kind of these tropical birds are beautifully feathered, and sing, to attract females of their respective species for rearing offspring, and repelling could-be, rival males.  But females of each kind have lovely feathering that blends them into their surroundings for their safety. 
     Each species has its own niche, which reduces competition for food and nest sites in which to raise their broods.  These lovely, tropical birds, come north to rear youngsters in the northern summer, feed a variety of protein-packed invertebrates to their babies.
     Baltimore orioles commonly nest in tall trees, particularly sycamores, along streams and creeks in cow pastures.  They also rear offspring on other kinds of lone trees along country roads and farm lanes in cropland.  The pale, yellow-orange female orioles build their deeply-pouched cradles of twigs, rootlets and vines on the tips of twigs that hang over water or roadways.  Such nurseries keep young orioles relatively safe from predators.    
     Adult male orchard orioles have unique and pretty plumage patterns, being deep-rusty below and black on top.  Their mates, however, are yellowish-green, which camouflages them.  This species, like Baltimore orioles, nests in lone trees in meadows.  But orchard orioles also raise young in older orchards with bigger trees.  Females of the present species build open cup nurseries of twigs and grasses on forks of twigs.
     Orchard orioles seem reclusive and usually are difficult to spot among the trees and other plants of pastures and orchards.  But males sing sweet, warbling songs that often give away their presence.
     The attractive adult male rose-breasted grosbeaks are mostly black on top, white below and have a patch of red on their upper chests.  Their mates, however, are brown and streaked, which camouflages them around their nurseries in woodland edge shrubbery.
     Some pairs of these grosbeaks from the American tropics have adapted to nesting on the edges of woodlots that overlook farmland.  They have additional nesting sites and we humans who know where they nest have added beauties to enjoy in farmland.
     Blue grosbeaks were limited to nesting in the southern half of the United States, but are now slowly pushing farther north to hatch chicks.  The attractive adult males of this lovely species are blue with beige wing bars, but their mates are brown.  Males sing from taller vegetation in the hedgerows, and roadside wires where they are quite visible.
     Blue grosbeaks rear young in thickets of shrubbery and vines in hedgerows between fields and along country roads in cropland.  Those thickets protect the young from snooping people and most predators.       
     Scarlet tanagers are tree top birds in oak forests.  But this bird species has adapted to oak woodlots and smaller woods in farm country, much to the birds' benefit. 
     Adult male scarlet tanagers are crimson with black wings and tails, but their mates are olive in color, which is good blending among tree top foliage where they place their cradles.
     Although these tanagers can be overlooked in tree tops, there are two ways to find them.  Listen for the males' raspy songs that sound like singing from American robins that have sore throats.  And scarlet tanagers sometimes come down to farm fields to catch invertebrates, making these beautiful birds more visible to us.     
     Looking quite tropical, adult male summer tanagers are red all over, but their females are yellowish-brown.  This species has been limited to nesting in the southern United States, but is now slowly pushing north to rear offspring.  This species, like its cousin, prefers oak woods to hatch babies.
     Interestingly, summer tanagers specialize in catching bees and wasps on the wing.  They batter these insects on twigs to get rid of the stingers before consuming them.    
     All these beautiful birds escape northern winters by migrating in late summer to Central and northern South America.  But while they were nesting here in southeastern Pennsylvania, and elsewhere, they were representatives of the tropics they winter in and, probably, originated in.  They are a bit of the tropics come north.  

SPRING ON THE MISSISSIPPI FLYWAY

     I've seen several kinds of water-loving birds along the Mississippi River and one of its backwaters in Wisconsin during the spring of 2020.  I saw most of those birds on extensive mud flats and shallow, sky-reflecting channels amid marsh-and-tree-covered islands, all of which are bordered on both sides by tree-covered hills.  All this I saw through a live camera mounted along the river and our home computer screen. 
     Spring is born from the chilly womb of winter.  Several each of bald eagles, ring-billed gulls, Canada geese and mallard, common goldeneye, bufflehead and common merganser ducks winter along the Mississippi, as long as some water remains ice-free.  The eagles and gulls catch and scavenge fish.  The magnificent eagles roost overnight on trees on the islands, while flocks of gulls spend winter nights on the flats. 
     The geese and ducks spend winter nights bobbing on the water, or sitting on ice.  The majestic geese, and mallards, "tip-up" to feed on vegetation in the shallows and nearby marshes.  And the related, similar-looking goldeneyes and buffleheads dive under water from the surface to eat small mollusks and crustaceans, while mergansers catch small fish.  Obviously, these water birds can live together in harmony because they have different foods.
     By early March, certain kinds of migrating birds stop for a few weeks on this part of the Mississippi to rest and gain nourishment.  Hundreds of similar-looking lesser scaups and greater scaups, which are related bay ducks, dive underwater from the surface to ingest aquatic vegetation, mollusks and crustaceans.  But soon they migrate farther north and west to their breeding territories around the "potholes" in the mid-western prairies of Canada and the United States to raise young.
     Scores of stately, north-bound tundra swans rest among the mud flats and shallow channels where they dine on underwater plants by reaching their long necks down to them.  Everywhere the swans go and everything they do is highlighted by their reedy, whistling calls that identify them.  And by late March they are on their way north to the Arctic tundra where they will raise cygnets. 
     Flocks of tall, stately sandhill cranes roost at night on some of the mud flats and shallows in the Mississippi in April. There they rest between feeding forays on the flats and in nearby marshes.  And all the while their gutterel, rolling trills precede the seeing of them.  And, like the swans, the cranes soon push farther north to the tundra of Canada, Alaska and eastern Siberia to raise one or two young per pair.     
     Scores of handsome American white pelicans, and double-crested cormorants, both fish-eaters, are on the Mississippi in Wisconsin in April.  These species co-exist because they have different ways to catch fish.  Cormorants dive under water from the surface and search deeper waters for their finny prey.  White pelicans, however, work together by dipping their large beaks, like nets, at the same time in shallow water to scoop up fish.  These pelicans raise young by fish-filled, Canadian lakes. 
     By April, too, gadwalls, green-winged teals, blue-winged teals and northern shovelers, all species of small ducks, are in the shallows among the marshes and mud flats of this part of the Mississippi.  There these kinds of pretty ducks tip-up to consume aquatic plants from the bottoms of the marshes and shallows.  All these species, too, hatch ducklings in the pot-holes of American and Canadian mid-west prairies.  
     Many striking red-winged blackbirds are in the island marshes along the Mississippi to raise young among the tall grasses.  Male red-wings are black all over, with red shoulder patches they raise when singing from swaying grasses to attract mates and reject rival male red-wings.  Each female red-wing attaches her grassy nursery to grass stems a few feet above the water or soil of a marsh.
     A few each of great blue herons and great egrets stop along the shallows of the Mississippi in Wisconsin to catch fish.  They are entertaining to watch stalking their prey in the shallows. 
     Early in April, loose flocks of stream-lined, north-bound Bonaparte's gulls and tree swallows sweep swiftly over the Mississippi, often at the same time, but not together.  Both these lovely species of migrating birds are entertaining to watch swooping gracefully over the river after flying insects, and small fish and other tidbits off the water in the case of the gulls.  Those gulls are small and dainty for their role in life.
     Tree swallows nest in tree cavities and bird boxes.  Bonaparte's hatch young in twig cradles they make on spruce trees near lakes in Canada's boreal forests, something other kinds of gulls don't do.
     In May, flocks of migrating shorebirds of several kinds trot over the mud flats and in shallows after small invertebrates to eat.  Most of them are so small and well camouflaged that they are often tough to spot on the mud. 
     Some of the more commonly seen migrant shorebirds on Mississippi flats and shallows include least, semi-palmated and pectoral sandpipers, dunlin, greater and lesser yellowlegs, ruddy turnstones, semi-palmated plovers and avocets.  But by the end of May, most of these beautiful shorebirds are on their way to the Arctic tundra to hatch offspring.       
     The flats and shallows of parts of the Mississippi River in Wisconsin are entertaining with migrating birds from early March to the end of May.  And the most convenient way to experience these birds is through the live camera and a computer screen right at home.
      
              

BIRDS ON FLATS AND SHALLOWS

     During May in the northeastern United States, four kinds of common birds are obviously seen on and over extensive mud flats and shallow waters in rivers and larger impoundments.  These interesting species, including bachelor groups of drake mallard ducks, flocks of Canada geese too young to pair off and breed, migrating least sandpipers and locally nesting tree swallows, help liven those seemingly barren habitats at that time.  And each type of bird has its own foods while around those flats and shallows, which eliminates competition for those foods among them and allows them to live among the flats and shallows in peace and harmony.
     Many mallard ducklings hatch by the end of April in this area.  Their mothers are busy raising them with no help from drake mallards, which frees those males to form gatherings of their own on flats and shallows through much of summer.  During that time the drakes "tip-up", with their tails in the air, to shovel up aquatic vegetation from the bottoms of shallow water.     
     Also in summer, mallard drakes molt their resplendent, "courtship" feathers, making them resemble the plainer, better camouflaged, hen mallards.  Then the males grow new, handsome, courtship feathers that are mature by the end of September and adorn the drakes through the coming winter and spring. 
     Several full-sized, but sexually immature Canada geese gather into flocks on flats and shallows for safety and companionship.  These large, majestic birds feed on tender grasses growing on the flats, and nearby, extensive lawns.  And all the while they are gaining strength and wisdom so that in a few years many of them will pair off and rear goslings of their own.
     Scores or hundreds of migrant least sandpipers stop their travels north to walk in loose flocks across mud flats and wade in inch-deep water to eat aquatic invertebrates they pull out of the mud before continuing their migrations north to raise young on the Arctic tundra of Canada and Alaska.  They need lots of invertebrate fuel to make that long trip to the tundra. 
     Least sandpipers migrate north in May, after wintering on beaches and mud flats on Caribbean islands, Mexico's coasts and the shores of the southern United States.  Being brown and darkly-streaked above and white below, these sparrow-sized sandpipers are hard to see on the flats and shallows until they fly or otherwise move.  Sometimes flocks of least sandpipers, for seemingly no reason, suddenly sweep into the air and are off in wild, rocketing flight, quickly turning this way and that, showing white, then brown, then white again as they careen and circle, again and again, over water and flats.  That rapid twisting of several birds in a flock at once in the air probably confuses hawks that would catch and eat sandpipers.  Then, as suddenly as they took off, the sandpipers land again on the flats, looking like stones being tossed across the mud, and immediatly feed again on invertebrates in the mud.
     By the end of May and into early June, most least sandpipers are on their way to the still-thawing tundra.  But they were enjoyable to experience when they passed through this area in north-bound migration, stopping only to refuel.
     While many mud flats and shallows are populated by gatherings of bachelor mallard drakes, immature Canada geese and feeding migrant sandpipers, loose collections of migrating and/or locally nesting tree swallows dash and swoop over the mud flats and shallows of rivers and lakes to catch flying insects.  Those fast-flying, dodging swallows are entertaining in themselves to watch over bodies of water and flats where other kinds of birds are feeding.
     Tree swallows are also handsomely dressed.  Males are iridescent blue on top and white below.  Their mates are more gray above.  But both genders are beautifully streamlined for careening, maneuverable flight through the air after flying insects.   
     Mud flats are not as barren as they often look.  They often have gatherings of a variety of birds, as well as a diversity of invertebrates, many of which ae food for those birds.

MERGING MIGRATIONS

     During a full moon, or new one, in May, when tides are highest in Delaware Bay, several hundreds of thousands of horseshoe crabs, which are really related to spiders and scorpions, migrate across the bottom of the bay and emerge on its gravelly/sandy shores to spawn.  For several days, lines and masses of "crabs", some rows up to a hundred yards long, cover many shorelines. 
     Many crabs are already paired when they crawl a few inches up Delaware Bay beaches, the males clinging on top of the larger females.  Each female lays thousands of tiny, dull-green eggs in the sand and gravel as she moves up the beach a little, dragging her mate with her, who fertilizes her eggs as he passes over them.  After spawning, each pair retreats again to the bottom of the estuary, leaving the eggs to their fate.
     Each adult horseshoe crab averages a foot and a half long, including the tail, and almost a foot wide.  Their dull-brown shell is the shape of a horse's hoof, and there are several legs under that protective covering.
     Horseshoe crabs, as a species, have remained virtually unchanged in coastal waters for over 500,000,000 years.  The American species lives along the coast, and estuaries, from Nova Scotia to Mexico, including, and especially, in Delaware Bay.  And there are a few other kinds along the west Pacific coast bordering east Asia.  
     Meanwhile, as the crabs spawn in masses, swarms of laughing gulls, semi-palmated sandpipers, sanderlings, ruddy turnstones, dunlin and red knots, the latter four kinds being shorebirds, too, land among the horseshoe crabs spawning on Delaware beaches to eat as many crab eggs as they can.  One can hear the loud, constant laughing of the summering gulls as they feed, while the migrant shorebirds gorge on those eggs to regain fuel before the next lap of their migrations north to raise young on the Arctic tundra.
     The merging migrations of hundreds of thousands of northbound shorebirds, along with the hundreds of gulls and hundreds of thousands of spawning crabs, create one of the grandest natural spectacles in North America.  Lucky are those people who witness this great orgy of spawning and ingesting, to the benefit of the birds.
     The knots have flown all the way from the southern tip of South America.  These chunky sandpipers with robin-red underparts, have flown the greatest distance of these shorebirds.
     Along many stretches of beach, hordes of shorebirds together clamber over and around the spawning crabs and feed on the crab eggs as fast as they can.  And, periodically, often with seemingly no provocation, the gulls and shorebirds suddenly dart up into the wind and away in the air.  Spectacular masses of airborne shorebirds swirl time and again over the bay and beaches, all twisting and turning together, all flashing brown, then white, in precision, without collision, then quickly settling on the area of crab eggs, like peanuts thrown across the beach, and immediately begin feeding again.  
     The tundra doesn't thaw until mid-May, or later.  The sandpipers' migrations are instinctively timed to get those birds on the tundra by the latter part of May, when they will lay four eggs per clutch and hatch fuzzy, precocious young that will soon be able to run and feed themselves. 
     The horseshoe crabs' spawning, therefore, is good fortune for the north-bound shorebirds.  That spawning coincides with the passage of those migrating shorebirds, giving them ample food for the next part of their journies.
     This great merging of migrations along the Delaware Bay, and elsewhere, is a wonderful, natural spectacle to experience.  It is one of the many exciting, inspiring happenings in nature that capture our imaginations and give us joy in God's works.    

FEATHERED ENTERTAINERS

     In mid-May of 2020, I visited two small, public parks, in consecutive afternoons, in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, to see what creatures were about and what they were doing.  Both days were partly sunny, but windy, and cool for May.  The parks each had lawns, tall trees, shrubbery and a waterway flowing through it.  Interestingly, most of the birds I saw in one park, I saw in the other.  And those birds were involved in the same activities in each park.
     Two casts of feathered characters were in both parks.  Actors with minor parts those two days included American robins on lawns, Baltimore orioles, Carolina chickadees and downy woodpeckers among the trees, and gray catbirds in shrubbery.  But swallows and swifts were the main actors in the air while yellow-rumped warblers played that dominant role in the bushes.  Those characters were the most entertaining during the days I visited those parks.
     In both parks, little groups of barn swallows, with a few each of tree swallows and purple martins mixed in, swooped back and forth, up and down and around and around, just above the creeks and lawns to catch flying insects, their only food.  Those three kinds of swift, highly-manuverable  swallows weaved among their fellows without collision with them.   
     Swallows are streamlined with swept-back wings for speedy, manuverable flight after flying insects they catch in mid-air.  And males of each species have iridescent feathering that, apparently, is attractive to females of their respective kinds.  Male barn swallow are deep-purple on top and light-orange below while male tree swallows are blue above and white beneath.  Male martins are deep, shiny purple all over.    
     Meanwhile, several chimney swifts swirled rapidly above the treetops to catch flying insects.  Swifts are about the size of swallows, but dark-gray all over, and generally sweep higher across the sky after flying insects than swallows do.  Therefore, competition for that food on the wing is reduced between those groups of birds. 
     Small, flying insects were active in both parks those two days, in spite of the cold wind.  The sunlight warmed the ground and the waterways, which heated the air above them, allowing the insects the energy to fly and be available to the swallows and swifts. 
     Many, attractive yellow-rumped warblers consumed small invertebrates in the foliage of trees and shrubbery in both parks.  Each pretty bird constantly flitted from twig to twig in its quest for food.  Some individuals sang snatches of their trilling songs as they moved about and caught invertebrates. 
     Males are the more striking of the two genders of yellow-rumps.  Each male is mostly gray and black with yellow on its rump, crown and each flank.  Female yellow-rumps have those same color patterns, but not as vividly.
     Those yellow-rumps were making their way north to raise young in Canada's boreal forests.  But their swarms are also beautiful and intriguing to experience while they are feeding on invertebrates in foliage between the steps of their migration.     
     Swallows, swifts and warblers are small in size, but big in beauty, grace and entertainment.  They all certainly livened the two parks I visited this May.

FARMLAND STREAM BIRDS

     In the last couple of weeks, I have seen several kinds of interesting birds along running streams in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland.  Overgrown stream banks of tall weeds and grasses, and sapling trees threading through constantly cultivated croplands are oases of shelter from the hazards of plowing, discing and harvesting for a variety of wildlife species.  And those same oases provide natural food for wildlife.
     The first waterway in local farmland I visited is bordered by tall grass and scattered sapling trees on both banks.  And there I saw a handsome pair each of mallard ducks and wood ducks swimming in a slower stretch of water.  The mallard hen will hatch several ducklings in a grass nest on the ground under sheltering tall grass on a stream bank.  The female woody will hatch ducklings in one of two nest boxes erected along this stream for wood ducks to nest in.  Some wood duck pairs are adapting to raising ducklings in farmland because of duck boxes being erected for them.  And the ducklings of both kinds will mostly feed on aquatic invertebrates.
     I also saw a permanent resident, well-camouflaged song sparrow and a striking male red-winged blackbird among the stream side tall grasses.  The blackbird repeatedly sang his "kon-ga-ree" song. Both species will nest among those grasses, the song sparrows in a grass cradle on the ground and the red-wings by attaching their grass nursery to several grass stems above the soil.  Both these pretty species will feed invertebrates they catch among the grasses to their young.
     I saw two migrating birds eating invertebrates along the water's edge of this little waterway.  One was a lesser yellowlegs, which is a kind of sandpiper, and the other was a sparrow-sized, camouflaged water pipit.  Both species will rear offspring in Canada, the yellowlegs by a lake in Canada's forests and the pipit on that country's arctic tundra. 
     About a week later I stopped along another stream in Lancaster County cropland.  Several handsome American robins were running and stopping, running and stopping over short grass in a meadow bordering this waterway.  They were watching for earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates to ingest.  Those robins probably will nest in young trees along an edge of that pasture and in trees on nearby lawns.
      Several each of purple grackles and starlings, and a few red-winged blackbirds, walked about the short-grass pasture in search of invertebrates.  The grackles will raise young in a nearby grove of spruce trees while the starlings probably will hatch babies in close by tree hollows and barn crevices.  The red-wings, however, will anchor their grassy cradles to cattail stalks when they grow taller.
     I also saw a few lesser yellowlegs and a couple of least sandpipers on narrow mud flats along the little waterway.  Those sandpipers were fattening up on invertebrates they pulled from the mud before continuing their migrations farther north to raise youngsters.
     But it was the cute, fluffy, camouflaged brood each of Canada geese, mallard ducks and killdeer plovers that were the delight of the day in that pasture.  The pair of geese led their goslings out of the stream so the parents and young alike could graze on tender grasses.  The lively ducklings and their mother stayed in a slow part of the stream to consume invertebrates.  And the killdeer chicks, unchaperoned by their parents, walked over soggy parts of the pasture to catch and ingest invertebrates.  Obviously, there was little or no competition among these birds for food, a reason they were all in the meadow together.
     All the birds along those two waterways were lovely, intriguing and inspiring to experience.  Nature is all of the above, and a gift from God.

OUR OBVIOUS NESTING BIRDS

     Five kinds of larger, more obvious, common and adaptable birds nest in our suburban neighborhood in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  Those five species are purple grackles, mourning doves, American robins, northern cardinals and gray catbirds.  All these species are native to much of North America, and each kind has its own lifestyle, which allows them to live together with a minimum of competition for food and nesting places.
     Every year, the grackles form a nesting colony of about twelve pairs in the numerous arborvitae trees.  Those dark birds, with the beautiful purple sheen in their feathers, arrive here early in March and immediately start checking the cedars for nest sites.  And between "house-hunting" they feed on local invertebrates, especially on lawns, and eat grain at bird feeders.
     All day, every day, through March, April and May, grackle pairs are busily devoted to nursery preparations, incubating eggs and feeding young until those offspring fledge their cradles toward the end of May.  That group of parent grackles create a hub-bub of activity as they shuttle food to their youngsters in their open-cup nests.  And occasionally grackle parents have to fight off crows who would eat the eggs or young of grackles.  
    A couple of pairs of mourning doves each have two nurseries of young at the same time through summer, with the first clutch of two babies in March and the last pair of offspring in September.  We hear the males' gentle cooing all spring and summer.  These doves hatch their chicks in the sheltering boughs of spruce trees.
     Some pairs of doves make their own nests of twigs and grass, but those cradles are flimsy affairs that could easily fall apart in strong winds, dashing eggs or young to the ground.  Other pairs use the abandoned cradles of other birds, which prove to be more sturdy.  
     Mourning doves, like all their family, have two clutches of young at once to maximize their rate of reproduction.  When a pair of chicks is half-grown in one nursery, their mother lays two eggs in another nest.  And while one parent regurgitates and feeds the older youngsters a half-digested porridge of seeds, the other parent incubates the eggs, or small young, in the other nest.  Each pair of doves switches back and forth between their nurseries all summer, putting out a pair of young every month, if their is no accidents or predation from crows, grackles and other creatures.
     Every year, two pairs of American robins nest in shrubbery or small trees in our neighborhood.  Robins arrive here by early March and I hear the males' lovely songs toward the end of that month.  And, sometimes, I see the males fighting along the borders of their adjacent territories, though nobody gets hurt. 
     By mid-April, female robins are busily building open-cup nests of mud and grass in the forks of woody vegetation.  It's interesting to watch them gathering those materials and making trip after trip to their nurseries to form them.  When their cradles are ready, each female robin lays four lovely, blue eggs in her well-formed creation.  And the young robins fledge toward the end of May, if they survived predation.  But even after they leave their nurseries, young robins, and other kinds of young lawn birds, are subject to the predation of crows, hawks and house cats.  But many of those birds survive to adulthood.
     Two pairs of striking northern cardinals raise young in shrubbery in our neighborhood.  We hear the males singing cheerily from the tops of tall trees as early as warm February afternoons.  But I have yet to find the twig and grass cradle of a cardinal hidden in the bushes.  However, I am not purposefully looking for them.  I do see recently fledged cardinals and identify them by their dark beaks rather than the red ones of the adults.  In summer, cardinals consume invertebrates and seeds, and come to bird feeders.
     Two pairs of gray catbirds arrive here around the beginning of May.  I usually hear the males' quiet, melodious singing before I actually see the birds.  Somber as the shadows they nest in, catbirds raise young in shrubbery and feed them invertebrates.  It's interesting to see catbird parents on lawns, like robins, looking for food. 
     These adaptable kinds of birds have adjusted to life in the suburbs.  The world is full of adaptable species that make do among our activities, which is good for them, and us.

UPLAND SANDPIPERS

     One afternoon in the middle of August, several years ago, I saw a flock of about twelve birds fly swiftly across the country road I was driving on in southern Lebanon County, Pennsylvania.  Those birds flew low, and close to my car, allowing me a good, though quick, look at them.  They had pointed, swept-back wings and were a bit larger than American robins.  They were light-brown with darker streaking and had small heads and large, dark, appealing eyes.  I couldn't identify them, because they were new to me.  But looking in a field guide of birds in eastern North America, I learned they were upland sandpipers, an inland kind of shorebird that nests on prairies and other tall-grass habitats during spring and summer, mostly in northcentral North America.  I realized, too, that those uplanders must have raised young in the surrounding 70 plus acres of tall grass along the country road I was on.  And, in August, gathered in preparation for their migration to Argentine grasslands to continue consuming invertebrates, and escape the northern winter.
     Upland sandpipers arrive in the remaining prairies and other grasslands of the Lower United States, Canada and Alaska by the third week in April.  Their nesting habitats in the mid-west were larger before that part of the continent was cultivated.  This sandpiper species also reared offspring in the eastern United States when that region was cleared of forests for farming, including in southern Lebanon County.    
     About ten pairs of uplanders arrived on the 70 plus acres of tall grass used to raise beef cattle to hatch four young per pair.  Early in May, for at least a few years, I visited those acres to hear and see those inland sandpipers courting.  Males climbed high in the sky until they were mere specks, then each one uttered drawn-out whistles that rose in pitch, then descended like long "wolf" whistles of an impudent, teenage boy.  Then those little, dark spots floating high on the wind, plummeted to the ground, leveled out on quivering, shallow-beating wings and landed on fence posts as male upland sandpipers.  Each bird then raised and lowered its wings gracefully and chattered a few series of rapid notes, as if getting in one more claim of its breeding territory.  A few male uplanders courting at once was always exciting to experience from those fields of tall grass where male eastern meadowlarks and red-winged blackbirds also once sang.  
     Each female upland sandpiper, like females in the rest of her family of shorebirds, lays one brood of four eggs each spring.  Female uplanders lay and brood theirs in grass nurseries under tall grass.  The young hatch fuzzy, camouflaged, open-eyed and ready to seek their own invertebrate food among the dense jungles of tall grasses.  Some uplander eggs are preyed on by skunks and raccoons.  And red foxes and long-tailed weasels eat some of the young, particularly before they can fly.  But some uplander chicks grow to full size and can fly within several weeks.
     Unfortunately for the upland sandpipers in that area of southern Lebanon County that I have visited annually, the grassland farm was sold and the new owner plants corn and soybeans.  The sandpipers were out of luck for nesting grounds there.  Loss of nesting habitat is the most serious problem uplanders face.     
     However, upland sandpipers still raise offspring in parts of the American and Canadian prairies and tall-grass meadows, habitats they need to hatch youngsters.  There the long, haunting whistles and rapid chatters of male uplanders are still heard drifting down to waves of wind-blown, tall grass.
     The wild, unique whistles of upland sandpipers high in the sky are exciting to hear.  And the lithe, handsome figures of those birds perched on fence posts are thrilling to see.  I sincerely hope these beautiful, charming birds can keep raising young each year among acres of wind-waving, tall grasses.    

SPRING ON THE PLATTE

     Rowe Sanctuary along the Platte River in southern Nebraska is beautiful and exciting to experience in March and April.  The Platte reflects the beauties of the sky as it flows broadly and shallowly on the flat landscape of the Nebraskan prairie.  And the river is flanked on both sides by tall, beige grass and weeds, which, in turn, are bordered by cottonwoods and other kinds of gray, deciduous trees, creating lovely scenery.  I've seen that beautiful scenery, and intriguing wildlife, through a live camera along the Platte and our computer screen in the spring of 2020.  
     Certain kinds of water-loving birds live on and along the Platte through parts of some winters and into early spring.  Flocks of Canada geese, mallard ducks and northern pintail ducks float on the protective waters of that river and feed on corn kernels in neighboring harvested corn fields.  The geese and ducks are striking when they fly up from the Platte, flock after flock, and are darkly silhouetted before brilliant sunsets as they fly to fields to feed.  
     Interestingly, too, pintails engage in courtships on the Platte.  For example, four or five drake pintails surround a hen on the water to show off their charms.  The hen leaps into the air and flies off with "break-neck" speed, with the drakes close behind her.  Careening and swerving over the water, the drakes do their best to keep up with her.  But the male who stays with the hen the longest gets to be her mate for the coming breeding season in the American and Canadian prairie pothole country in the mid-west of both countries.    
     Common merganser ducks are also on the Platte in winter.  They dive under water from the surface to catch and consume small fish.
     Several each of majestic bald eagles and adaptable ring-billed gulls winter along the Platte.  Both species scavenge dead fish and catch live ones when the river is not frozen over.  The eagles also catch ducks and other creatures at times.      
     But six hundred thousand, migrant sandhill cranes are the stars of the Platte in much of March and April.  Having come up from wintering in Texas, Arizona and New Mexico, they arrive at Rowe Sanctuary and the Platte early in March and stay there until about the middle of April.  Then they are off to nesting grounds around the Great Lakes, and on the prairies of Canada, Alaska and Siberia.   
     Over three feet tall, with long legs, neck and beak, each crane is magnificent.  And their great hordes along the Platte in spring are one of the great wonders of nature in North America.
     Each morning, great gatherings of sandhills fly out to fairly-nearby, harvested corn fields to feed on kernels of corn on the ground.  But they return to Rowe Sanctuary and the Platte River each evening in much of March and April.  Through the live camera at sunset, I saw many long lines and bunches of sandhill cranes coming to the river from far-off over the prairie where they fed all day.  And I saw their nighttime environment of the "big sky", and the shallow channels that reflect the sky, mud flats, sand bars and shorelines of the Platte where they will spend several spring nights.
     Within a few minutes, those first flocks of cranes sweep low over the Platte, as more and more bunches of them come up from behind from every direction.  Those first flocks to arrive over the river join each other into bigger and bigger hordes of cranes that call incessantly.  Those large flocks, silhouetted darkly against the sky, swirl round and round over the river, usually in a counter-clockwise direction.  Soon several cranes parachute down to shallow channels and mud flats here and there to spend the night.
     Then, as the whirling clouds of cranes flew over their relatives on the river's shallows and flats, many more cranes swept down to join them.  Soon flocks of cranes descended to the river at once, looking like a waterfall of large, wing-stretched birds.  Meanwhile, rivers of cranes swirled toward the "falls", each group waiting its turn to flow down it to the water.  And, meanwhile, more and more and more flocks of sandhills were coming to the river from all directions and varying distances.  They present amazing sights as the evenings press on and darken!
     The first few sandhills that land on shallows and flats for the night create "islands" of themselves.  And as other cranes join those on the river by the score every second, those islands quickly become longer and wider.  Still more cranes come from the distance as those crane islands become ever larger and larger with the big, silhouetted birds landing in one or another of up to about eight crane islands on the Platte River.      
     Still more and more cranes, silhouetted black against the darkening sky, continued to stream across the sky, swept low to the Platte and landed among islands of their fellows for the night.  There seemed to be no end to the rivers of cranes coming to the Platte.  Each evening, the sky gets darker and darker, and still the sandhills came, calling all the while.  And the crane islands get larger and larger.     
     Six hundred thousand sandhill cranes silhouetted black before the sky and on the Platte is exciting to experience.  But sometime in April, depending on the weather, those cranes head farther north to raise one or two chicks per pair. 

FLOWERS AT EVERY LEVEL

     Four kinds of plants commonly and obviously bloom in wooded floodplains along creeks here in southeastern Pennsylvania during April, including lesser celandines, garlic mustards, spicebushes and ash-leafed maple trees.  These plants cover riparian woods niches from the dead-leaf-carpeted floor to the tree canopies. 
     Lesser celandines are aliens from Europe.  They are abundant and invasive on riparian woods floors, forming large, prostrate carpets of glossy, deep-green leaves, dotted profusely with golden flowers that brighten those damp woodland floors, especially on sunny days.  Some extensive stretches of floodplains along creeks are yellow with innumerable, beautiful celandine blossoms.
     Here and there the deep-purple blooms of native blue violets and feral grape hyacinths poke through the golden and green coverings of lesser celandines.  The purple and yellow together offer a beautiful color combination on those rich, moist riparian woodland floors.
     Garlic mustard is another alien from Europe.  This species is so-named because its crushed leaves and stems have the scent of garlic.  Quite invasive, this plant dominates many damp woodland floors, including riparian woods.  But this plant grows up to three feet tall, has yellow-green foliage, and small, white flowers clustered at the tips of its stems in April.  This plant spreads quickly from its small, dark seeds that are blown around on the wind. 
     Many people pull this plant out of the soil to eradicate it, but I think it is a losing battle.  This vigorous species probably squeezes out some native plants on woodland floors, but to me garlic mustard also represents adaptable, indominatable life in spite of what we humans want.  
     Spicebushes are a native shrub layer species that has many positive traits.  Each bush has many tiny, greenish-yellow blooms that color whole woodland understories in April.  Spicebushes have red berries in September, most of which are eaten by American robins, cedar waxwings and other kinds of berry-eating birds during that beautiful month and into striking October.
     Spicebushes have a delightfully spicy scent in their leaves, berries, bark and twigs when those parts are slightly injured.  Some people enjoy walking in the woods and scraping spicebush bark or crushing leaves to experience that sweet fragrance.
      Native ash-leafed maple trees, along with silver maple and sycamore trees, dominate the canopies of riparian floodplains along creeks.  Ash-leafed maples' green, young twigs and numerous "silky-tassled" and drooping flowers dangling from twigs during April help identify this kind of riparian woodland tree. 
     Ash-leafs are weak trees that break down easily in strong wind.  Therefore, the larger trees of this kind are riddled with hollows where woodpeckers chipped out nurseries or wind ripped limbs off the trees, exposing the wood to agents of decay.  Raccoons, barred owls, wood ducks, tufted titmice and other types of wildlife live and raise young in those cavities, adding more interest to riparian woods along creeks.
     Local riparian woods on floodplains have lovely flowers at every level in April.  Those blooms help beautify the woods bordering both sides of waterways every year at that time.  Get out and experience a floodplain woods near you, or any other natural, nearby habitat for physical and mental health.    

April Purples

     Four kinds of flowering plants, including periwinkles or myrtles, common blue violets, grape hyacinths and ground ivy or gill-over-the-ground, have adapted to lawns in southeastern Pennsylvania, and elsewhere in the United States.  We have all these plants on our lawn.  And these plants have at least two characteristics in common in this part of Pennsylvania- they have pretty purple blooms in April.
     Some of those plants grow and blossom in beautiful, mixed bouquets of themselves, and with other wild blooms on lawns.  The other blossoms include yellow ones on dandelions and Indian strawberries, the pale-blue flowers of veronicas and the pink blossoms of spring beauties, for example.         
     Periwinkles begin to bloom in March, when warming weather permits.  Originally from Central and southern Europe, this species was planted on lawns as a lovely ground cover in flower gardens around rocks, on steep slopes and other places where mowing would be difficult.
     Periwinkle has deep-green, evergreen leaves on ground-trailing vines that spread across flower beds and lawns.  There they help hold down soil and provide shelter for invertebrates and other small creatures, including mice, toads and small snakes.  And American robins, gray catbirds and other kinds of birds find invertebrates to eat under myrtle vines.
     Each lovely myrtle flower has five purple petals that come together at their bases to form a shallow tube.  Several blooms together on their trailing vines make pretty bouquets in themselves.
     A favorite of many people, including me, common blue violets are native to northeastern North America's woodland floors.  I like violets so much that I avoid mowing them when they are in bloom. And this plant is so common on certain lawns that they turn parts of them purple during the latter part of April.
     Each violet blossom peeks out coyly from a sea of their own heart-shaped, dark-green leaves, and short grass on lawns.  And violets' leaves and blooms are eaten by cottontail rabbits and wood chucks that live under shrubbery and backyard sheds on lawns.
     Grape hyacinths are from Eurasia, but have been introduced to North America by people planting their bulbs in flower beds and on lawns.  Each grape hyacinth has several grass-like leaves and clusters of tiny, round, purple blooms that resemble bunches of grapes. 
     Each blossom has an opening on the bottom where its mature seeds fall out.  Those tiny seeds blow around in the wind, which scatters them across grassy lawns, meadows and roadsides.  I've seen parts of green lawns and pastures magically turn purple from multitudes of beautiful grape hyacinth flowers in April.  Such a lovely sight they make in the green background drenched with sunlight.
     Ground ivy is originally from Europe.  It is a small, prostrate vine, with scalloped leaves and lovely, purple flowers, crawling through the short grass of lawns.  This species, a kind of mint with a pungent scent when injured, grows attractive clumps of itself here and there on lawns.  Its presence can be detected by smell when one mows a lawn where ground ivy lives.  And ground ivy is visited by at least a few kinds of small insects that sip nectar from its blossoms, pollinating those blooms in the interesting process.
     These purple, wild flowers beautify lawns, pastures and roadsides with their attractive blooms in April.  And they benefit some kinds of wildlife on those human-made habitats.  Nature's beauties are almost everywhere on Earth.  And every moment of every day, there is something new in nature to experience.  Nature is always dynamic.   
       

   

Two Trees' Double Beauties

     Though unrelated, red maple trees and Bradford pear trees beautify many lawns and streets with their lovely flowers in spring and striking colored leaves in autumn.  Both these kinds of deciduous trees are commonly planted in those human-made habitats in the northeastern United States because of their many beauties, including shapes, summer foliage, spring blossoms and fall leaves.
     The native red maples are well-named, and attractive the year around.  They have innumerable red blooms from about mid-March to almost the middle of April and red seeds that helicopter away from the trees in late May.  Some of those seeds are eaten by rodents.  Red maple trees also have red petioles on their leaves in summer, red foliage in fall and red leaf and flower buds through winter.  But red maples are most striking with their beautiful red blossoms in spring and breath-taking red foliage in autumn, giving us double beauty each year and reasons they are planted on lawns.
     Red maples are native to and abundant in wooded swamps and the moist soil of bottomland woods.  In spring the many red flowers of these lovely trees color their canopies red, while spring peeper frogs and American toads peep and trill in ponds and pools below them.
     The alien Bradford pears have multitudes of white blossoms during late March and much of April.  Those blooms are often swarmed by pollinating insects that sip nectar and transfer pollen from flower to flower.  Each fertilized flower produces a brown, berry-like fruit, many of which are ingested in fall and winter by rodents and berry-eating birds, including starlings, American robins and cedar waxwings. 
     The birds digest the fruits' pulp, but pass the seeds in their droppings all over the countryside, the method, by which Bradford pears escape cultivation.  Some of those seeds sprout and, in some places, their saplings form pure  thickets of themselves, which produce more fruits that feed rodents and birds.   
     In November, Bradford pears have breath-taking maroon and red foliage, including on lawns where they were planted, and in abandoned fields and along expressways, places where birds perched and pooped.  And where the land isn't plowed, cultivated or mowed, allowing the growth of the trees to beautiful maturity in the "wild".
     I've seen  a few pure, dense thickets of Bradford pear trees in abandoned fields in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  Those stands are beautifully white with flowers in April, and regally maroon, with some red foliage, in November. 
     Red maple trees and Bradford pear trees are attractive to us and beneficial to several kinds of wildlife.  And the pretty pear trees are gradually becoming part of the landscape in this area.    

Robins and Bluebirds

     A scattered flock of about 120 American robins ran and stopped, ran and stopped, as they listened and watched for earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates on a greening meadow in mid-March of this year.  A few days later,I saw several robins, and a pair of mallard ducks, a killdeer plover and two male red-winged blackbirds getting a variety of foods along a clear rivulet bordered by lush, green grass.
     The robins and other birds were lovely sights in those human-made habitats.  And those robins had just come north for the nesting season, much to the thrill of people who were waiting for those birds' spring arrival.  At that time, and through the rest of March, robins seem to be most everywhere- on lawns, bare-ground fields and along tiny waterways. 
     Some robins and eastern bluebirds spend winters in southeastern Pennsylvania, but others drift south to escape the northern winter.  The birds that stay north consume berries in hedgerows, woodland edges and suburban areas.  But those individuals that went south, suddenly return north by the middle of March, to the joy of many people. 
     The attractive robins and bluebirds are related to each other in the thrush family.  Fledgling robins and bluebirds have spotted chests, as do thrushes.  But adult robins and bluebirds have reddish-brown chests.
     Toward late March, each male robin repeatedly sings his lusty melodies from trees and shrubs on lawns to establish his territory and attract a mate for raising young.  Robins mostly sing before sunrise when younger suburban areas ring with many robin concerts at once.  But robins utter their sweet songs any time of day, including after sunset.  
     And by late March, male bluebirds sing their delightfully gentle phrases of three or four whistled notes while perched on fence posts and tree twigs on the edges of fields and meadows.  The male bluebird, himself, is striking with the blue sky on his upper parts and the Earth on his chest.
     By early April, female robins and bluebirds look for nesting sites, the robins in the forks of trees and bushes in suburban areas.  Female bluebirds search for tree cavities created by woodpeckers or wind ripping limbs off trees, exposing the wood to agents of decay.  They look for those hollows in trees in meadows, hedgerows and woodland edges.
     Some people erect bird houses in weedy pastures and field edges especially for bluebirds to nest in.  And that species does, if not chased out by house wrens, house sparrows or tree swallows.  Placing bluebird houses in the right habitat is the key to keeping away much of the feathered competition for those boxes.  House wrens prefer woodland edges and house sparrows like to be around buildings.  But tree swallows enjoy much the same habitat as bluebirds.  Incidentally, an entrance diameter of one and a half inches will keep starlings from taking over bluebird boxes.  
     By mid-April, female robins and bluebirds build nurseries.  Robins use mud and grass to create open cups among twigs in trees and shrubs.  Bluebirds layer grass in tree cavities and bird boxes.  Each female of both related species lays an average of four blue eggs in her cradle.  The young hatch about twelve days later and fledge their nurseries toward the end of May.  Many females of both kinds soon start a second brood that fledges by late July.
     Interestingly, American robins and eastern bluebirds, as species, have benefited from Europeans' clearing of forests in the eastern United States to create farmland.  Several kinds of spot-breasted thrushes thrived in those seemingly unending woodlands.  Robins and bluebirds, however, were restricted to woodland clearings that had some shrubbery and trees, but were limited in acreage.  But when those forests were cut away for fields and pastures, spot-breasted thrushes retreated with the woods, but robins and bluebirds expanded their ranges and numbers with the unrelenting expansion of farmland that was created.  Today robins are adapted mostly to younger suburbs and bluebirds have adjusted to weedy fields, both of which are human-made habitats.             
     Robins and bluebirds are common today in the built habitats they adapted to.  And each kind of bird brings much beauty and intrigue to the habitat it reigns in.  We are blessed with their presence.
    

Under Red Maple Flowers

     Red maple trees are striking with innumerable red blossoms from the latter half of March to the second week of April, here in southeastern Pennsylvania, as in much of the northeastern United States and eastern Canada.  And I associate those lovely, little blooms with many other natural beauties in woodland swamps where red maples are wild and suburban areas where that type of tree is abundantly planted for its many beauties the year around.  
     The ancient, primordial choruses of hundreds of cold-blooded male spring peepers and American toads ring out from under the blush of red maple flowers' multitudes in wooded swamps, day and night, from late March through much of April.  Each peeper repeatedly peeps shrilly for a minute or more in shallow water, stops, then continues peeping, while the toads trill musically, time after time, for about 30 seconds each trill while sitting upright in the shallows of a pond in woodlands and thickets.  And, occasionally, while those tailless amphibians are chorusing to attract mates for spawning in the water, a pair of Canada geese will fly over, honking boisterously.
     The innumerable blooms of lesser celandines carpet many a damp woodland floor yellow under the soft-red of red maple flowers.  And the moister parts of those woods floors are green with developing skunk cabbage leaves.  The red canopies, yellow rugs and lush-green skunk cabbage foliage paint pretty pictures of new life in abundance in local woods toward the end of March. 
     At this time, too, pairs of lithe wood ducks are looking for available nesting cavities in which the hen woody will lay her clutch of about 12 eggs.  Many sycamore and red maple trees have hollows where wind ripped limbs off the trees, exposing the wood to agents of decay.  Sometimes those attractive woodies perch on the branches of blooming red maples to rest.  The maple flowers and ducks together in the tree tops are lovely sights.
     I also associate red maple blossoms with greening grass, the lovely flowers of Veronicas, crocuses daffodils and forsythia, and the welcome singing of mourning doves, American robins and northern cardinals under the canopies of planted red maples on the lawns and along streets in suburbs.  Some of the birds sing from the midst of those red canopies, adding their feathered beauties to that of those wonderful flowers.
     Little colonies of purple grackles perch in the red canopies of red maples that happen to be near the dark-green of spruce and fir trees the grackles will eventually raise young in.  The grackles add their iridescent purple and green beauties to that of the maple blossoms.       
     Blushes of red maple flowers also help highlight the beauties of the blue sky and white, cumulus clouds on sunny days.  How wonderful to look up through red canopies to the sky and scudding clouds that constantly change shapes.  And, perhaps, a hawk or vulture might be drifting and circling before one of those attractive clouds.  
     Red maple foliage adds much beauty to local wooded swamps and suburban areas.  It is a major part of my pleasant memories of spring, and many of its wonders, in southeastern Pennsylvania.            

Inland Shorebirds in Spring

     About sunset one March evening when I was about twelve, I was walking through a plowed field in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland and suddenly flushed up a robin-sized, brown and white bird that had an orange tail.  It flew up right in front of me and called loudly, startling me.  I later learned that the bird was a killdeer plover that was either migrating north or preparing to nest in that bare-ground field.
     I like February, March and April here in southeastern Pennsylvania because of the excitement of longer periods of daylight each succeeding day, warmer weather, on average, the blooming of early flowers, the migration of certain kinds of birds and the courting and nesting of other bird species.  Killdeer plovers, Wilson's snipe and American woodcocks are inland shorebirds that winter here in limited numbers.  But many other individuals of each kind migrate into this area and beyond during March, bolstering the numbers of each of these beautiful, interesting species here, and in the northeastern United States. 
     The related killdeer, snipe and woodcocks all live in moist, bottomland habitats, but in different niches, which makes them distinct species.  However, being cousins to each other, they all have certain traits in common.  They all consume invertebrates off the ground.  Each female of all species lays her four eggs in a shallow cradle on the ground.  The young of all species hatch fully fuzzed, open-eyed, and ready to run and feed themselves within 24 hours of hatching.  And the eggs, young and adults of each kind are camouflaged, blending them into their surroundings, which hides them from predators.  I must confess, I can not see any of them standing still in the open in their natural habitats.  I can only spot them when they move across the ground, or fly.
     Killdeer summer and raise young on gravel bars along streams, creeks and impoundments, gravel parking lots and railroad beds, bare-ground fields, short-grass lawns and meadows, and similar, open habitats.  Camouflage is necessary in such shelter-less niches these birds evolved in.
     But killdeer also have another defensive strategy- the broken-wing act.  If a predator gets near a killdeer nest or foraging young, the adults flop about like they are crippled, which lures predators to those parents and not the eggs or chicks.  When the predator is led far enough away from the young, the adults suddenly take flight, leaving the predator in confusion, while the youngsters are safe, for the moment at least.
     Snipe nest farther north than southeastern Pennsylvania.  But some winter here and migrate through this area.  Snipe frequent the edges of brooks and streams in cow pastures, where they probe their long beaks into mud under shallow water to pull out and ingest worms and other kinds of invertebrates.
     Snipe are beautifully feathered in brown and darker streaking which camouflages them.  It takes me a bit of looking through binoculars to finally spot some of these inland sandpipers.
     But the most intriguing inland sandpiper in this grouping is that crepuscular recluse with a long "nose", the American woodcock of bottomland woods and thickets.  Through the last several years, I have seen many courtship displays of male woodcocks performed before the soft-pink of spring sunsets and bare, deciduous trees.
     Soon after sunset, most every evening through March and April, each male woodcock flies out from his ground retreat in a bottomland woods or thicket and lands on a bare-ground spot in a field or other open habitat.  There he stands with his long beak on his chest and vocally "peents" for up to a minute or more.  Then he takes off in spiral flight into the darkening sky, higher and higher, while a special feather on each wing twitters rythmically.  At the height of his climb, he vocally sings several bubbling notes, then dives to the ground, levels off and lands on his bare spot of soil to repeat his performance again, and again.  Only hunger or female woodcocks willing to mate stop his interesting courtship displays for the evening.  But each male woodcock will be back displaying the next
evening, weather permitting.   
     These inland shorebirds help make southeastern Pennsylvania more interesting each spring.  The challenge, of course, is finding them.              

Pintails and Blue Geese

     I have never seen so many northern pintail ducks and blue geese as I have in February of 2020 at Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge near the Chesapeake Bay on Maryland's Eastern Shore.  Pintails and snow geese have traditionally wintered in shallows of the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays.  There they feed on aquatic vegetation, grasses in salt marshes and corn kernels in fields.  But both species, and Canada geese mallard ducks and tundra swans, adapted to wintering on the shallow retention basins at Blackwater and other wildlife refuges along those two estuaries. 
     Every day in February of this year, I watched great flocks of snow geese, many of them the dark color phase called blue geese, swirl down together onto those retention basins like a blizzard of snow, after feeding in nearby fields and marshes.  As the geese settled on those freshwater basins, they formed an island of white and dark birds on the water that grew larger and larger as more and more geese spiraled down.
     I had been watching those pintails and both color phases of snow geese through February on our computer screen as transmitted by a live camera mounted on a causeway between the two retention basins.  That camera made me feel as though I was standing, in person, on that causeway.
     The large numbers of pintails at Blackwater were impressing.  Handsome and streamlined, each male pintail has two long tail fathers that give this species its name, and helps identify the kind of duck it is.  Female pintails, however, are brown with darker streaking, and have no long tail feathers.  But the hens' blending into their habitats keeps them safer from predators while brooding eggs and raising ducklings.   
     Northern pintails' courtship flights in late winter and early spring are their most interesting activity, which I witnessed at Blackwater many times.  Three to five males would gather around a hen pintail on the water and show off before her.  Soon the female pintail took flight, with all the drakes swiftly following her.  The male who keeps up with the racing hen the best will be her mate for the coming breeding season.  Hen pintails hatch ducklings in grassy nests on the ground around ponds and marshes in the prairies of Central United States and Canada. 
     Tens of thousands of snow geese of both colors dominated the twin retention basins at Blackwater.  And I was surprised to see so many blue geese in those constantly, excitedly honking masses of them landing on the basins.  Blue geese are regularly abundant in the Mississippi River flyway in winter, but not along the East Coast. 
     Blackwater's retention basins are often full of waterfowl in winter and early spring, including feeding tundra swans and Northern pintails, and resting Canada geese and snow geese.  Snow geese are well-named because many of them are all-white with black wing tips, they feed in snow and they are in the United States in winter. 
     But to people with limited knowledge about snow geese, there seems to be several kinds of geese in a snow goose flock.  Adult snow geese are white with black wing tips.  Immature snow geese have white and gray feathers.  Adult blue geese are dark-gray with white heads and necks.  Snow geese that had one white parent and one dark parent are dark with white heads, necks and bellies.  And immature blue geese are dark all over.  Snow geese might appear to be several different kinds of geese, but they are all one species. 
     I was impressed and entertained by the numbers and activities of Northern pintails and blue geese at Blackwater Refuge last month.  There is always something new and intriguing going on in nature. 

Earliest Flowers

     At least seven kinds of plants, from skunk cabbage hoods to inch-tall, lawn plants to trees make woods and lawns in southeastern Pennsylvania flowery during February and into March.  All the lovely blooms of these interesting, perennial plants bring beauty to those habitats every year, year after year.
     Skunk cabbage hoods house the first flowers of the year, as early as the end of January.  This native vegetation dominates and decorates soggy soil and inch-deep pools in bottomland woods.  Each thick, fleshy hood emerges from the wet ground and half opens, revealing a small ball with several tiny flowers on it.  Those blooms are pollinated by early-flying flies and bees.  By late March, each skunk cabbage plant grows large, lush leaves that is a favorite, early food of black bears.  
     Snow drops often sprout early in February, when we need signs that spring is coming.  These are two-inch-tall plants that are originally from Eurasia.  Early-growing vegetation hugs the ground to avoid cold wind, yet receive the warming sunlight.
     Snow drops are introduced to local lawns and flower beds by planting bulbs in fall.  Each snow drop plant has a few grass-like leaves and one small, white flower that looks like a snowdrop until it opens.  Then each lovely blossom resembles a tiny bell.  With imagination, one can almost hear several of them ringing in the wind.   
     Winter aconites are also from Eurasia, introduced to local lawns and flower beds by planting their bulbs in autumn, and bloom by mid-February.  Each aconite is one inch high, and has a single, scalloped leaf below one golden, beautiful flower.
     Aconites spread from the seeds their attractive blossoms produce and are scattered by the wind.  Yellow colonies of aconites, some of them large, bloom on, and brighten, some lawns and woodland floors in southeastern Pennsylvania.     
     Spring witch hazels are native shrubs planted on lawns because of their pretty yellow and pale-orange flowers that bloom by mid-February, adding another touch of the coming spring.  Each lovely blossom has four short, thin petals.
     Speckled alders are also native shrubs that inhabit streambanks.  Their purple, inch-long male catkins swell, elongate and become yellow with pollen that blows in the wind, fertilizing female blooms.  By the middle of February, the drooping male catkins undulate and sway in the wind, which adds to the beauties of this woody plant. 
     Muskrats, beavers and cottontail rabbits eat the bark and buds of witch hazels and alders in winter.  And the roots of the alders help keep stream banks in place.
     The popular and be-loved pussy willows are from Eurasia, but are also planted on many local lawns for their lovely, gray furries by the end of February.  Male plants of this species can be started by putting twig cuttings in water until they sprout roots and leaves.  Then plant them in moist soil and water them for a while. 
     Pussy willows' attractive, gray fuzzies are short, upright and soft at first.  But they quickly become larger, and yellow with pollen.  Then they are swarmed by a limited variety of small insects after their pollen.
     Native silver maple trees produce many yellow and dull-red flowers by the end of February.  Those lovely blooms create a beautiful glow in the trees. 
     Silver maples inhabit creek and river banks where their roots help hold down the soil against erosion.  And large silver maples become riddled with cavities where wind ripped limbs off these weak trees.  Barred owls, wood ducks, chickadees, squirrels, raccoons, black snakes and other critters live and raise young in those hollows of various sizes.  And the large seeds these maples produce feed a variety of rodents.
     Look for these early flowers this year and following years.  They add beauties to the landscape when we need that beauty the most.     
      

February Preparations for Nesting

     In February each year, a variety of birds in southeastern Pennsylvania farmland prepare for the coming nesting season, an indication that spring has arrived locally.  And some of those preps are obvious to people who look for them, bringing joy to their hearts, including mine.
     Weather is fickle and cold, snow and ice could be prevalent during February in this area.  But longer periods of daylight each succeeding day and the sun rising "higher" and "hotter"in the sky stir hormones in many kinds of birds during February. 
     Clamorous floods of tundra swans, Canada geese and snow geese,  and a variety of duck species, particularly northern pintails, American wigeons, ring-necked ducks and common mergansers, pour onto local cropland lakes and fields for a few weeks.  The swans, geese and some duck species rest on the water, and feed on corn kernels in harvested corn fields and the green shoots of winter grain plants.  Ring-necks stay on the human-made impoundments and dive under water to eat aquatic vegetation.  Mergansers also remain on the water and dive under to catch small fish in their thin, serrated beaks.
     The elegant swans and stately geese are most enjoyable to experience when they are flying, in organized, noisy flocks, to and from feeding fields and impoundments.  They are particularly majestic as black silhouettes flying before strikingly red sunsets.  
     During warm afternoons in February, pretty males of a variety of small, permanent resident birds of farmland thickets, wood lots and farm yards sing beautifully to announce themselves, establish nesting territories and attract mates, much to the joy of the people who hear them.  With reproductive hormones stirred, male Carolina wrens, northern cardinals, song sparrows, house finches, tufted titmice and starlings make those built habitats ring with song in February.
     Handsome male mourning doves and rock pigeons add to the bird concerts in February.  Each kind of these related birds has its own way of cooing that can be heard by delighted farm folk ready for spring.  Many pairs of doves build flimsy nurseries in young evergreen trees whose needled boughs shelter the young.  And pigeons build poor cradles on supporting beams in barns and under bridges.  Each female of every pair of both kinds lays only two white eggs per brood.  But each pair attempts to raise several broods, from early spring into September.    
     Interestingly, the attractive male downy woodpeckers of farmland wood lots and farm yards hammer on dead limbs in trees, and on spouting, roofs and other built objects in February to announce their presence and nesting territories.  Obviously, their loud, rapid drumming serves the same purpose as birds' singing; to attract mates for raising young in cavities that both parents chip into dead wood in trees.  And that drumming is another sign of spring.
     In February, lone, local pairs of stately Canada geese and handsome mallard ducks, quietly and secretly look for nesting sites among tall grasses near ponds and streams in this area.  These pairs have separated themselves from flocks of their kinds to have the freedom for their searches.  And they will chase away any rivals of their own kinds to keep their nesting territories.
     Generally, by early March, each hen of goose and duck creates a nursery on the ground that is protected by tall plants.  Each female begins to lay eggs by the second week in March and the goslings and ducklings hatch as early as the third week in April, thankfully when the weather usually is a bit warmer.
     Usually, by the end of February, great, mixed hordes of noisy purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds begin to pour into southeastern Pennsylvania on their way to nesting sites.  Whole fields are blackened with their numbers as they feed on corn kernels, other grains and seeds, and any invertebrates that are already available to them.  Sometimes the blackbirds "pinwheel" over each other in their search for food in the fields.
     But these two kinds of blackbirds are most striking when in flight to seek more food in other fields.  The grackles have a purple and green sheen that is most visible in sunlight.  Red-wings in flight are even more attractive in flight.  The red shoulder patches of the flying males look like hot, flickering embers in a furnace of black coal.                     
     But within a couple of weeks, the grackles and red-wings are in their nesting habitats.  Most of the grackles will form little nesting colonies among stands of coniferous trees, while red-wings will be among the many clumps of cattails in this area.
     February is packed with more bird activity than most people know.  And a lot of it has to do with prepping for nesting.