Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Nature on a Ride Home

     I was on business at Park City Mall outside Lancaster City in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania until about 5:10 PM on February 10, 2015.  I started driving home around 5:15 in full daylight because the daylight per day is getting longer each succeeding day.  The sky was cloudy, but pretty with a few ribbons of blue, yellow and orange.  I also saw that the deciduous trees and coniferous trees, the yellow and green grass and patches of snow on the ground were lovely in the late afternoon light.  The snow beautifully highlighted the vegetation's colors. 
     As I drove away from Park City, I saw airborne streams of wintering American crows approaching that shopping mall and many hundreds more perched on bare, deciduous trees on the edges of the mall, in preparation to roost there for the night.  They have been doing that every evening all winter.
     A few minutes later, as I was driving home on Route 23 through the village of Eden, I saw a loose river of thousands of crows going west toward their nightly roost near Park City.  Those crows were quite a wild spectacle pouring low over tall deciduous and coniferous trees.
     A minute later I saw a flock of wintering American robins flying over Route 23 in Eden on their way to their roost for the night in spruce trees somewhere in town.  The needled boughs of those conifers protected the robins from cold winds and predators through the winter. 
     Meanwhile, I spotted several mourning doves perched on roadside wires.  Most of them were in pairs and ready for the breeding season this spring and summer.
     As I was leaving Eden, a small flock of stately Canada geese were circling where I knew the Conestoga River to be.  Those geese were checking the river and its environs for danger before landing on the water.
     A few minutes later, I saw another group of Canada geese flying south low over the town of Leola that straddles Route 23.  Those geese probably were winging out to a harvested cornfield to eat loose kernels of corn.     
     And while driving through Leola, I noticed two different, small gatherings of starlings swirling and diving in unison, and without collision, low over the town in preparation for bedding down for the night.  Eventually, both those starling groups will zip into the needled, sheltering boughs of coniferous trees where they will be protected from cold wind and predators. 
     As I continued to drive east on Route 23 to my home in New Holland, Pennsylvania, I noticed that the landscape and trees were getting darker, as the sky was.  But there was still beauty in the sky, countryside and vegetation.
     The flocks of birds I saw while driving along were silhouetted against the darkening sky.  But I identified them by their sizes, shapes and flight patterns as I drove along. 
     I finally rolled into New Holland and parked in front of my house.  And as I got out of my car at about 5:45, I heard the honking of many snow geese overhead.  Looking up, I saw thousands of noisy snow geese in wave after wave sliding quickly across the sky and powering low right over my house and neighborhood.  The timing to see and hear them could not have been better.  When snows come into this area in such numbers, spring is right around the corner, as we say.      
     Not every drive home, no matter the season, is as eventful as this one was.  The reader can have similar experiences by simply watching for beauties in nature at all times, whenever that can be safely done.    

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Wintering Coastal Sandpipers

     Many of us see sandpipers along the Atlantic Coast in spring and late summer, which are their times of migrations north and south respectively.  But some of us don't know that while most sandpiper species continue father south for the winter, at least a few kinds, including sanderlings, dunlin and purple sandpipers,  winter along the Atlantic Coast in the Middle Atlantic States, including in New Jersey, Delaware and Maryland.  And each type has enough numbers in winter here to be noticeable to even casual observers along the ocean, if those people know where to look.
     Sanderlings are the kind of sandpiper one sees in little groups running up and down sandy beaches along the Atlantic Ocean itself.  When waves slide up the beaches, gatherings of sanderlings run up  the beaches ahead of the incoming water.  But when each wave rolls down the beach to the ocean again because of gravity, the sanderlings quickly follow it to pick up and consume any tiny invertebrates that were stranded on the sand.  Sanderlings are entertaining to watch.  And this is the only sandpiper species that behaves in that way, on a sandy beach habitat in winter.     
     Sanderlings have pale-gray, winter plumages that allow them to blend into the color of the sand and be hard to see when they are still, which protects them from predation.  And when they run up and down the beaches, their black legs move rapidly, almost as if they were on wind-up toys.
     Dunlin flocks by the hundreds, or in the thousands, feed on invertebrates in the mud of mud flats that are exposed and unfrozen because of receding water when the tide is out.  Dunlin are gray-brown on top and lighter underneath for camouflage on the mud.  They are most likely to winter in salt marshes back from the ocean and beaches.  There they are protected from cold, winter wind by the tall grass of salt marshes as they ingest invertebrates.
     Purple sandpipers have dark feathering which camouflages them on the boulders of rugged seacoasts and human-made rock jetties.  Jetties jut into the ocean at right angles to the beaches to protect those sandy beaches, where sanderlings roam, from wave erosion.  And purple sandpipers found those jetties to be good substitutes to the rocky shorelines they traditionally winter on.
     Purple sandpipers walk about on the boulders of jetties in their search for invertebrates to ingest.  But these sandpipers are often overlooked until they move along the rocks or fly from boulder to boulder to new feeding spots because of their camouflaging plumages.
     Notice how each kind of wintering sandpiper is in a particular niche- beaches, mud flats or boulders.  By spreading into different habitats, these related birds reduce competition for food among themselves through winter.  And notice, too, how each species takes on the color of its environment.  
    When along the Mid-Atlantic seacoast in winter, it might be interesting, and fun, to look for these kinds of sandpipers, and other species of that family, in the coastal habitats mentioned here.  These sandpipers, gulls and other kinds of water birds certainly liven the seacoast in winter.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Common Local Suckers

      One day in the middle of May a few years ago I saw a swarm of foot-long, and longer, fish in a clear stream in western Chester County, Pennsylvania.  Using binoculars, I could see they were gray on top with silver flanks and a broad, pink stripe on each side.  Males had the pink flanks to show their breeding readiness to females in that group of fish about to spawn. 
     Those fish were white suckers, a kind of common fish that ranges from southern Canada to northern Florida and west to the Mississippi River.  They, and northern hog suckers that have much the same range, commonly live and spawn in streams, creeks and impoundments large and smaller in the Middle Atlantic States, as elsewhere. 
     These related suckers that can grow up to 20 inches long have much in common, including having down-turned mouths to suck plants and animals off the bottoms of waterways and impoundments.  Some of the items they eat are aquatic insect larvae, snails, small, freshwater clams, small fish and algae.  Both species are most likely to live in schools in the rocky-bottomed, slow-moving pools of clear streams and creeks.  And both kinds fall prey to other kinds of fish, herons, ospreys, bald eagles, mink, snapping turtles, northern water snakes and other types of predators around waterways and impoundments.        
     Both these suckers spawn from about mid-May to the middle of June on the stony bottoms of small, tributary streams.  Amid much thrashing and splashing as they compete for a favorable position, two or more males of each respective species attend each female of their kind while she is laying her eggs to cover those eggs with their sperm.  The more than 20,000 eggs per female sucker are spread randomly among the stones, and many stick to those stones.  The eggs and young are on their own from the beginning and minnows and other kinds of fish consume many of those tiny eggs: Few grow to maturity.  Some of those eggs slip down between the pebbles on the water bottoms where some of them are better protected from being consumed.  Newly-hatched suckers feed on zooplankton and algae.       
     There are some differences between white suckers and northern hog suckers, which is why they are two distinct species.  While white suckers can tolerate some pollution, siltation and low oxygen in the water, hog suckers can not.  Therefore, hog suckers are more likely to live in better quality water than white suckers do, which reduces competition for space and food between these related fishes.  The presence of hog suckers indicate good quality water. 
     Hog suckers have some physical differences from their local cousins.  They have longer snouts they use to turn over stones in their search for food, hence their common name.  Hogs are light brown all over with darker brown markings across their backs which camouflages them on the stream and lake bottoms.  They also have reduced swim bladders that better allow them to lie on their pectoral and ventral fins on the bottom to feed, using their down-turned mouths to suck up food from the stony bottoms of bodies of water. 
     Suckers are interesting fish.  And they demonstrate how the body of any animal is uniquely shaped to live successfully in a certain niche.  During spring and the rest of the year, look for these finny creatures of waterways and impoundments.    

Thursday, February 5, 2015

A Field Trip Close to Home

     I went on a short field trip near my home in New Holland, Pennsylvania on the warm, sunny afternoon of February 4, 2015.  I didn't have a particular goal, but just wanted to experience what was happening in nature at the time. 
     I had just left town and was driving by a field when I noticed a few American robins in that field, then more and more.  I stopped along the edge of the road and estimated a couple hundred robins were in that open space, probably feeding on invertebrates roused from the soil by the warmth.  Were these migrant robins or were they in this area all winter.  I know that each winter for years there has been about a score of robins in New Holland feeding on berries through winter.  But this was a much larger flock of that species.  If they were migrants, they are early because we usually see migrating robins early in March.  My better guess is that they were around the New Holland area all winter, feeding on berries on trees and shrubbery in a relatively new suburban area on the edge of town.
      Not a half mile down the country road I was on, I saw a flock of about 60 Canada geese eating grass in a pasture and about 50 mallard ducks on and beside Mill Creek that flows gently through that meadow.  Though common and seen most everyday, those resident geese and ducks were a beautiful sight in that sunny, grassy pasture and sparkling, clear waterway.  And while counting the ducks by the stream, I saw a great blue heron watching for fish in that waterway.
     Continuing on that rural road, I went by a ten-acre patch of tall red juniper trees, with a few American holly and red maple trees in the mix.  As I drove by slowly, I spotted a red-tailed hawk and then another one in the clear sky.  I thought they could be a mated pair that has a nest somewhere in that juniper grove.  I stopped to watch the red-tails and saw a third raptor of that kind come into view.  One of the first hawks I saw dashed on powerful wing strokes after the third hawk, chasing it out of the area.  That third red-tail probably was also looking for a nesting area and the first two hawks saw it as a competitor.    
     About a mile and a half out of New Holland, I turned around to drive home the way I came out.  At that point, there is a 15 acre stand of maturing red maple trees on a bottomland along Mill Creek, with a border of weeds and grasses.  A downy woodpecker chipped into a dead limb of a red maple after invertebrates in the wood.  A little group each of dark-eyed juncos and American goldfinches fluttered among those weeds edging the woodlot and consumed many of their seeds.  And about a half dozen eastern bluebirds, males and females, were catching small invertebrates that were activated by the warm sunlight.  The bluebirds were particularly lovely when flashing their blue feathers in the sunlight.
     On the way home, I stopped at a shallow rivulet of clear, running water to look for Wilson's snipe, which is a kind of inland sandpiper.  I saw one a few yards from the road.  As are all its kin, the snipe was dark brown, with beige and darker striping that allows those sandpipers to blend beautifully into their surroundings so well that they aren't visible until they move.  This handsome snipe, as they all do, was busily poking its long beak into mud under the water to snare aquatic invertebrates.
     I stopped at a thicket of sapling trees and cranberry viburnum bushes on the way home and saw a little gang of white-throated sparrows scratching in the leaves in their search for seeds and invertebrates to eat.  White-throats nest farther north and only spend the winter in Lancaster County, as elsewhere in the eastern United States.  They do, indeed, have a white throat that identifies them. 
     A northern mockingbird and a pair of northern cardinals were also in that thicket.  The mocker was there to consume berries and the cardinals were there to ingest weed and grass seeds.  Both these bird species are permanent residents and probably nest in that thicket.
     As I was driving through farmland back to New Holland, I saw a group of about 20 wintering northern horned larks bounding low over a field, presumably from one feeding spot to another.  But when they dropped to the ground, I couldn't see them because of their camouflaging plumages.  Horned larks feed on weed and grass seeds and bits of corn left lying in the fields during winter.  They actually live in those fields, hunkering down behind clods of soil at night to avoid cold winds.
     And as I was approaching the meadow where the Canada geese were feeding a half hour earlier, I saw a flock of about 30 snow geese circling the fields ahead of me.  I thought they might come down where the Canadas were feeding, but they didn't.  In fact, the Canadas had left that meadow. 
     The snow geese were definitely migrants.  They raise young on the Arctic tundra but come to  many marsh and farmland places in the United States to spend the winter.  Here they get food in abundance during that harshest of seasons.  Those 30 snows were a prelude of the many thousands that will rest and feed in this county for a few weeks, waiting for spring to catch up to their restless hormones that push them north to breed.      
      The robins, too, were gone from the field they were in 40 minutes earlier.  Perhaps they were full and quit feeding.  Or maybe the were chased up by a Cooper's or sharp-shinned hawk.  But the absence of the robins and geese in the last five minutes demonstrated that luck plays a role in what one experiences in nature.  We have to be in the right place at the right time to experience much of nature.  If we aren't, we think there isn't much wildlife in an area, when there's more than we know.
     I was only out in nature for about 50 minutes and only drove a mile and a half from home, yet I saw a lot of nature for a winter day.  Any reader can do the same.  Just get out and look and, sometimes, much of nature will be seen or heard.   


30 snow geese circling the neighboring fields.          
         

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Spring Peepers and Chorus Frogs

     Many a warmer evening early in April in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania I have stood on the edges of shallow ponds and wetlands in moist, wooded bottomlands as darkness closed in around me and listened with awe to the sweet, earnest peeping of male spring peepers, a kind of tree frog.  The air fills with their boisterous, high-pitched peeping, almost to the point of hurting my ears if I am close to those tiny frogs.  And joining that wild, clamoring peeper chorus in certain wetlands are several rising calls that sound like someone running a finger along the edge of a plastic comb, "crreeeeeekk".  Those raspy, but beautiful, trills are emitted by several male chorus frogs calling at once.  Male peepers and chorus frogs call females of their respective kinds to join them in shallow water to spawn their many eggs.  And I have always enjoyed hearing their intriguing, inspiring  choruses, their bit of the wild in our civilized part of the world, their remnant of the amphibian age of long ago, in this area during April evenings.  Some people, including me, go out of their way on April evenings to hear these wonderful, pleasing harbingers of the vernal season.  And I have often stayed in the wetlands until dark when I was finally engulfed only by the damp coolness of the air and the wild, unceasing shouting of the romantic peepers.    
     Spring peepers and chorus frogs have several characteristics in common, partly because they are both in the Pseudacris genus.  Both these related species are mostly nocturnal and have big eyes for better sight at night,  They are both a little over an inch long at maturity and mostly brownish for blending into the wetland surroundings they often share.  Those are reasons why they are mostly "voices in the wetlands" where they eat invertebrates, spawn, and hide during the day and through cold weather.  Few people ever see them.
     Both these tree frog species have extensive ranges in eastern North America, including here in the Mid-Atlantic States.  In fact, these frogs are in North America exclusively.  Both are "winter" frogs in the Deep South where they spawn on warmer, rainy days anytime from November into winter.  But in the north they are harbingers of spring, calling and spawning from late March, sometimes even before all the ice has melted, through April.  Male peepers and chorus frogs both sing from protective clumps of grass emerging from the inches-deep water, and the peepers also peep from emergent shrubs and trees.
     Spring peepers range from Hudson Bay to northern Florida and west to the Mississippi River.  They are tan with a darker X on their backs.  The clear, loud peeping of the males is sometimes followed by a short trill.  A peeper chorus from a short distance sounds like a jingling of small bells.  Their delightful peeping is the best part of this species to us humans.
     Chorus frogs as a group of several closely related species live in the American mid-west up to Hudson Bay.  And they live along the forested Appalachian Mountains, the New Jersey Pine Barrens and other woody areas in the eastern United States.  For the most part, they are yellowish-brown all over with elongated, irregularly-shaped, dark brown spots or short stripes.  But, like the peepers, it's the males' trills in spring that are the best part of this species to us.         
     The reader might like to try listening for spring peeper and chorus frog choruses during evenings this winter or spring, or succeeding ones, depending where you live.  Choruses start in winter in The South because of warmer average temperatures that allows these cold-blooded creatures to be active.  But as spring progresses north, the spawning choruses of these frogs, and other frog species, begin when temperatures rise in each part of the country in turn. 

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Some Beauties and Pleasues of Snow

     Though snow is a pair to many of us, and downright dangerous, a few inches of it is pretty and interesting.  Snow makes the whole landscape appear wilder, enhances the colors of vegetation and insulates ground-hugging plants from wind colder than the snow and small creatures from severe cold and predation. 
     Snow makes the landscape prettier, even on gray days.  Snow makes the greens, grays and yellows of vegetation be more vivid, and stand out more.  The blue-gray of distant woods also is enhanced by a snow cover.  We can better see the details of twigs, weeds and tall grasses against the snow.  And we can better see white-tailed deer and other animals on the snow at dusk and on moonlit nights.
     Heavy, wet snow sticks to the branches of trees, pushing down the needled boughs of coniferous ones and beautifully outlining the tops of horizontal deciduous limbs and twigs in studies of white and dark.  Squirrels and several kinds of birds find shelter from wind and predators under the cover of the heaped snow and needles on the conifers.   
     A variety of little critters in the Mid-Atlantic States, as elsewhere, have different strategies of surviving winter.  Some animals sleep in the burrows most of winter, either living off their fat as wood chucks do, or awaking periodically through winter to eat stored seeds and nuts as eastern chipmunks do.  Still others are active under a snow cover that protects them, as is a kind of mouse called a meadow mouse or field vole.
     The great naturalist, Aldo Leopold, wrote about meadow mice in winter in his SAND COUNTY ALMANAC.  "The mouse is a sober citizen who knows that grass grows in order that mice may store it as underground haystacks, and that snow falls in order that mice may build subways from stack to stack; supply, demand and transport all neatly organized.  To the mouse, snow means freedom from want and fear".
     Field voles live in fields and meadows, and along roadsides where the vegetation may get mowed occasionally, but not plowed under, allowing those mice to become well established along rural roads.  In winter, when snow covers the ground, voles chew and tunnel through the grass under that protective cover of snow, more free of predation than before the snow fell.  Now they can travel more freely in search of food and mates.  But when the snow melts away, the voles' avenues, and themselves, are again exposed to predators, including hawks, owls, foxes and other kinds of predatory creatures.
     Those of us who look for animal tracks in the snow can know what creatures are active and read what they were doing in the near past, such as where they were feeding and on what, and where they were traveling to.  Following animal prints in the snow is intriguing.
     Deer tracks are easy to identify.  They have two toes, each one of which is sharp-pointed in the front, like the prints of cattle, but much smaller.  White-tails here usually live in woodlots and thickets among fields.
     Each back foot of an opossum has a toe that resembles a human thumb.  Possum tracks, too,  should be easy to identify.
     The foot steps of red foxes in the snow demonstrate the grace and ease of the trotting foxes.  Their series of prints are all directly ahead of each other, showing the slimness of those cunning members of the dog family. 
     The tracks of cottontail rabbits in our yards or along a hedgerow between fields is easy to identify, too.  When the rabbit is running, its hind feet land on the snow in front of where the front feet made imprints in the snow.  Therefore each set of rabbit tracks has two large foot prints side by side, followed by two smaller prints, one behind the other.     
     Gray squirrel tracks, which are quite common on maturing lawns with lots of big oak trees, are like rabbit prints, except that both back feet and both front feet land on the snow side by side.
     The tracks of small birds are tiny and have three toes in front, and one toe in back to keep the birds from falling over backwards.  The prints of small birds are usually around food sources such as weeds and grasses loaded with seeds, or around bird feeders.
     Some of the bigger birds have more easily identifiable prints in the snow.  The steps of ducks and geese are webbed.  Great blue herons leave huge tracks and those of American crows are similar, but much smaller. 
     Snow melts in predictable ways, gently watering the landscape.  Snow melts first on the south or sunny sides of rocks, trees and other objects where it absorbs more warming sunlight.  The rocks and trees also soak up the sun's warmth and radiates it out, melting snow around them.  Snow readily melts around running water that doesn't easily freeze.  Snow also melts first on south-facing slopes because they get more direct sunshine. 
     Snow is perishable in the warmth and remains on the ground for limited time.  But while it is on the ground, it has an impact on some of the plants and small animals wintering close to the soil.  And we can enjoy reading the tracks of some of those animals in the snow cover.  Snow can be a pain, but it also enhances the beauties of the landscape and gives us enjoyment.             

Sunday, February 1, 2015

The Entertaining Gray Squirrels

     No animal in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania is as consistently entertaining as gray squirrels.  They are, as we say, as much fun as a barrel of monkeys.  They are intelligent rodents, nimble for life in trees, lively, adaptable, common, and visible to us people on a regular basis.  They are daytime creatures on private lawns in cities and suburbs, in parks, forests, woodlots and hedgerows, and in farmland meadows, places where at least a few trees produce berries, seeds or nuts for them to eat.  They are permanent residents wherever they live and active year around.  They store many nuts and seeds for winter food in tree crannies or holes they dig in the ground.  But some of those fruits in the soil sprout, creating new plants that eventually produce food that future squirrels will ingest.   
     Gray squirrels readily consume grain in bird feeders, either from the feeders themselves, or from the ground under the feeders.  Several squirrels eating bird food can be expensive to the home owner.      These squirrels, including the six or more that live in about two acres of lawn studded with several trees in my neighborhood, can solve problems, like how to get on a bird feeder.  As a species, they've had eons of experience plotting travel routes along limbs in the tree tops to get from tree to tree to tree.  I think they may have glimmers of thought, thinking ahead and reasoning.  They certainly do like to explore their surroundings, which I think is a sign of intelligence.
     Gray squirrels have gray fur to allow them to blend into their habitat of tree trunks and branches to be invisible to predators.  If spotted, however, they scuttle around a limb or trunk to avoid the predator.  But red-tailed hawks and great horned owls are big and strong enough to catch and kill gray squirrels.  If the reader thinks they have too many squirrels in their neighborhood, tolerate the presence of the red-tails and horned owls.
     Like all rodents, gray squirrels have teeth that grow all their lives.  They need such teeth to be able to chew hard food, which wears teeth down.  But if rodents don't keep their teeth gnawed down, those dentures could grow into the opposite jaw, causing pain and locking the mouth shut which could cause starvation.  So each rodent must have a balance between the rate its teeth grow and those teeth being chewed down to be functional, but not too long or too short. 
     Gray squirrels, like their squirrel cousins, live and rear babies in tree cavities, if they can find empty ones.  Barred owls, screech owls, American kestrels, raccoons, opossums and other critters in this area, as elsewhere, are competitors with squirrels for those limited tree hollows.  If a squirrel can't find an unused tree cavity, it will make an obvious ball of dead leaves among twigs in the tree tops.  This leafy nest is big enough to insulate and protect the squirrel from weather and predation.  At night and during days of inclement weather, each squirrel curls inside its large, bushy tail in the middle of its leafy nest. 
     Gray squirrels can also get into peoples' attics, cabins and other buildings where they can be pests by chewing on everything and dropping poop everywhere.  To the squirrels, those human-made places are big tree hollows that provide ample shelter.  The best ways to get them out of those buildings is to either live trap them and release them in a woods some distance away or close their entrances during the day when those rodents are outside foraging for food.
     Though too many of them can be a pain, gray squirrels are interesting, even funny at times.  They are also part of several food chains and start woodlands by burying nuts and seeds in the ground that they don't dig up later.  Try to tolerate and enjoy these interesting, little rodents.