The latter part of February and the beginning of March is a favorite and exciting time of the year for me here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. That is when there is an annual surge of bird migrations, bird songs, the blooming of early, hardy plants and other happenings in early spring. But because of unseasonably cold weather through all of February and the first week in March in 2015, early spring nature events were delayed a few weeks.
But the weather in Lancaster County finally warmed on March 7 and stayed warm for that time of the year until at least March 13th, the time of this writing. Migrant birds suddenly burst forth and poured into this area from March 10 through at least the 13th, like water from a newly-broken dam, creating living floods that arrived here, literally, overnight.
Spring didn't suddenly appear without warning, however. Daylight each succeeding evening had been getting noticeably longer since mid-January. And the sun continually got "higher" and hotter in the sky each day.
Spring floods made Lancaster County interesting from March 10 through the 13th in 2015. First was the flooding of water on fields and meadows and across roads from melting snow and rain that fell on March 10. Then floods of a few kinds of migrant birds, sensing the increased amount of daylight each day and the warming temperatures, suddenly poured into this area, starting on March 10, causing excitement among birders and non-birders alike. Those birds, as during every early spring in Lancaster County, but usually during the third week in February, are snow geese, tundra swans, ring-billed gulls, mixed flocks of purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds, and American robins. All those species stay in this county for a couple of weeks, or more, depending on the weather, before continuing their migrations, or spreading out and settling into local nesting areas, depending on the species. And all these adaptable species make use of human-made fields, impoundments and lawns, which benefits them and us.
Twice a day migrant snow geese and tundra swans join resident Canada geese on fields where they all feed on waste corn kernels from last autumn's harvests and the green blades of winter rye. When full, flocks of snows, Canadas and swans fly noisily to human-made impoundments to rest, digest, preen their feathers and socialize until hungry again.
Snow geese usually travel in great, clamorous hordes that resemble waves sliding across the sky like water up a beach, or a blizzard of giant snow flakes dropping to a field or a lake. Some snow goose blizzards are so large and thick with birds that the background is completely blocked from view. Sometimes those geese are so numerous on a field that, from a distance, it looks like snow fell only on that one field.
Tundra swans also travel about in flocks, but ones not nearly as numerous with birds as the snows. The swans move from place to place in V's or long lines of scores of birds, many of which are calling "woo" or "woo-hoo" at once. The swans have white feathering all over, while the snow geese are smaller than the swans, and have white plumages, but with black wing tips. Some snow geese have dusky bodies with white necks and heads. They are the same species as the white snow geese, but are called blue geese.
In March, April and May, snow geese and tundra swans hop, skip and jump north through Canada and arrive on the Arctic tundra to nest by mid-May. After a couple of weeks in Lancaster County I get weary of their presence. Their large hordes that can be seen, or heard, most anywhere at anytime, day or night, get hard on my nerves. But they were spectacular on migration, creating inspiring, natural shows, including when resting and feeding, and particularly when flying from place to place here in Lancaster County.
Much smaller groups of mallards, black ducks, pintail ducks, American wigeons and green-winged teal join the geese and swans in the fields and on the lakes and ponds. Most of these duck species feed on waste corn kernels, but wigeons mostly eat rye shoots like the geese and swans.
Ring-billed gulls are in Lancaster County all winter, feeding on anything edible in landfills, fields and parking lots. But in March their numbers are greatly bolstered by ring-bills pushing north from farther south and along the seacoast. Many of those migrant gulls, in flocks, along with the wintering ones, drop to fields being plowed to eat invertebrates from the freshly turned furrows. The gulls form entertaining turning wheels as they drop into the furrows ahead of their fellows and right behind the plows. Ring-bills mostly raise young around the Great lakes and the St. Lawrence River.
Mixed, large flocks of purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds pour into this county by the many thousands and spread over fields and lawns to eat invertebrates, corn and other edibles. The grackles have a purple and green sheen to their black feathers while the male red-wings are black with red shoulder patches. When hordes of these two blackbird species arise at once, they block out the background as effectively as snow geese do.
Many of the migrant grackles and red-wings in this county stay here to nest. Soon their great multitudes break into small groups to begin nest building, the grackles among half-grown, planted coniferous trees on lawns and the red-wings in farmland cattail marshes.
Many American robins winter in Lancaster County, but early in March the numbers of those wintering robins is greatly bolstered by incoming migrants. Scores, even hundreds, of migrating robins spread over lawns and fields to eat earthworms and other invertebrates. But like blackbirds, robins soon disperse from their migrant gatherings to build nurseries in small trees and bushes on lawns and in hedgerows between fields. By the end of March, male robins are in full song at dawn and dusk and females are making cradles of mud and grass by the middle of April in this area. Watch for these migrant birds in their great flocks the rest of this spring and succeeding ones. The migrations of those innumerable birds make this time of the year exciting, which is one of my favorites.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Wintering Flocks of Robins
This is March 11, 2015, and the weather in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania has finally warmed to more seasonal temperatures day and night. Time now to start looking for migrating, north-bound flocks of American robins in this area. But I regularly saw three flocks of wintering robins close to home in New Holland in this county this past winter, in spite of the cold wind and snow we've had, though, no doubt, there have been other groups of robins that wintered here. The robins were always handsome, and interesting to see in their congregations in the middle of winter. And each group of robins was accompanied by a few starlings and a handful of cedar waxwings, both of which also eat berries in winter.
Most people think robins go south for the winter and come north in March, but I suspect more robins winter here than we realize. I don't think I ever saw so many wintering American robins in my life as I did in the winter of 2014-2015. And during that harshest of seasons, they mostly eat berries by day and spend nights sheltering in half-grown coniferous trees or thickets of shrubbery that block cold, winter winds.
I found one group of over a hundred robins wintering in the east end of the borough of New Holland. I saw birds of this gathering one warmer winter afternoon running and stopping, running and stopping on a field where they probably were searching for earthworms and other invertebrates. One snowy day, I spotted what were probably the same birds nearby in a group of three, small crab apple trees and on the snow under the trees where they were eating the small, red fruits of those trees and fruit that fell below those trees. The robins were quite the beautiful crowd on the snow while eating the berries. And on another sunny, warmer day, I saw what I took to be the same robins moving across an extensive lawn, again to eat invertebrates.
Another flock of nearly a hundred American robins seemed to be "stationed" in a 20-acre, half-grown stand of red juniper trees, with a few American holly trees mixed in, in farmland about a mile south of New Holland. Hollies have red berries that robins eat and the junipers have berry-like, pale-blue cones that robins ingest as well. The robins there were eating the holly berries and juniper cones, but were also going to a nearby field on warmer afternoons where they ran and stopped, ran and stopped in their quest for invertebrates. Almost without doubt, those robins spent winter nights in the wind-breaking junipers.
The third gathering of wintering robins was in farmland with hedgerows and thickets a few miles northwest of New Holland. That group of close to a hundred birds often consumed the red fruits from a large crab apple tree near a road. Sometimes the snow cover under that tree was crowded with feeding robins. They were a striking, exciting sight.
Next winter, or a succeeding one, watch for wintering American robins. They are more prevalent in the north than most people realize. And the wintering robins' numbers are bolstered in March by north-bound relatives that wintered farther south. By the end of March, male robins are singing to establish nesting territories and attract mates to raise young.
Most people think robins go south for the winter and come north in March, but I suspect more robins winter here than we realize. I don't think I ever saw so many wintering American robins in my life as I did in the winter of 2014-2015. And during that harshest of seasons, they mostly eat berries by day and spend nights sheltering in half-grown coniferous trees or thickets of shrubbery that block cold, winter winds.
I found one group of over a hundred robins wintering in the east end of the borough of New Holland. I saw birds of this gathering one warmer winter afternoon running and stopping, running and stopping on a field where they probably were searching for earthworms and other invertebrates. One snowy day, I spotted what were probably the same birds nearby in a group of three, small crab apple trees and on the snow under the trees where they were eating the small, red fruits of those trees and fruit that fell below those trees. The robins were quite the beautiful crowd on the snow while eating the berries. And on another sunny, warmer day, I saw what I took to be the same robins moving across an extensive lawn, again to eat invertebrates.
Another flock of nearly a hundred American robins seemed to be "stationed" in a 20-acre, half-grown stand of red juniper trees, with a few American holly trees mixed in, in farmland about a mile south of New Holland. Hollies have red berries that robins eat and the junipers have berry-like, pale-blue cones that robins ingest as well. The robins there were eating the holly berries and juniper cones, but were also going to a nearby field on warmer afternoons where they ran and stopped, ran and stopped in their quest for invertebrates. Almost without doubt, those robins spent winter nights in the wind-breaking junipers.
The third gathering of wintering robins was in farmland with hedgerows and thickets a few miles northwest of New Holland. That group of close to a hundred birds often consumed the red fruits from a large crab apple tree near a road. Sometimes the snow cover under that tree was crowded with feeding robins. They were a striking, exciting sight.
Next winter, or a succeeding one, watch for wintering American robins. They are more prevalent in the north than most people realize. And the wintering robins' numbers are bolstered in March by north-bound relatives that wintered farther south. By the end of March, male robins are singing to establish nesting territories and attract mates to raise young.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Swallow Nesting Habitats
Next month six species of swallows will enter the Middle Atlantic States to raise young. These locally nesting swallows, like other forms of life, demonstrate the benefits of species of related critters diverging into different habitats to reduce competition for space and food with their relatives. All species of swallows catch flies, mosquitoes and other types of flying insects to feed themselves and their offspring, but where those different kinds of swallows nest is what keeps them apart; keeps them from competing with other swallows for food.
Swallows nest in three niches in this region, which separates them from their relatives. Those niches are barns and bridges, which is a departure from small caves and cliffs whee they have traditionally nested, tree cavities and bird boxes, and holes in banks of soil and drainage pipes over waterways.
All swallows are graceful and swift on the wing. They have to be to chase down and grab flying insects. And their fast, swooping, back and forth flights over open country, including farmland, are entertaining to us.
Barn swallows and cliff swallows are aptly named because the first species rears young in cradles plastered to support beams in barns and under bridges over small waterways in farmland as they do in small, shallow caves. Cliff swallows hatch offspring on the sides of buildings and bridges as they do on cliffs. Each species forms small colonies to raise offspring, thereby taking the best advantage of the limited space they use for nesting.
Both species make nurseries of mud pellets. Each bird of every pair of both kinds roll mud pellets in their beaks and fly them up to their nurseries. There they put each pellet in place for their nest. The barn swallows make an open cup, while the cliff swallows create an enclosed, jug-shaped nest with a hole in the side just big enough for the birds to slip in and out.
Barn swallows are common in local farmland, nesting in most every barn and small bridge in the region. But cliff swallows are not common here, having few nesting colonies. Both species are deep-purple on top and pale orange below, with differences in details between the species.
Tree swallows and purple martins both had reared young in abandoned woodpecker holes and other tree cavities. Tree swallows still do, but the martins are completely tied to human-made bird boxes and gourds that people put out for them. Male tree swallows are metallic-blue on top and white below, while male purple martins are a deep purple all over and their mates are smoky above and off-white underneath.
Tree swallows can nest as individual pairs and in small, loose colonies, depending upon the number of cavities available to them in a region. And they not only hatch youngsters in natural cavities, but in bird houses, as well. Those bird boxes were erected originally for eastern bluebirds to raise young, but many tree swallow pairs take over bluebird boxes and chase away the bluebirds. Sometimes a few pairs of tree swallows gang up on a pair of bluebirds to drive them off.
Purple martins always live in tight, sometimes large, colonies in the farm yards of cropland. Certain people erect apartment bird houses and/or strings of gourds for the martins, though starlings, house sparrows and other kinds of birds also want to use those bird boxes. Most of the summer the martins keep up a constant activity of catching insects, and a chatter that is pleasant to people who enjoy those largest of swallows around their homes.
Bank swallows and rough-winged swallows are both brownish species that hatch youngsters in hollows in stream banks. The bank swallows live in colonies and each pair digs a burrow in a stream bank of soil above the normal waterline where they rear their young. Individual pairs of rough-wings dig tunnels in stream banks, too, but they also raise babies in abandoned kingfisher burrows and drainage pipes in stream banks. Those pipes are safe homes for developing youngsters until heavy rain is conducted down the pipes, washing out young, nest and all.
All these swallow species in the local area, except maybe the bank swallows, probably have higher population numbers now than ever in their life histories. That is due to their adapting to human-made conditions. And all these swallow species, particularly the more common barn swallows, tree swallows and purple martins, are entertaining to us. This spring and summer, or succeeding ones, watch for these beautiful, entertaining birds that catch insects in graceful flight.
Swallows nest in three niches in this region, which separates them from their relatives. Those niches are barns and bridges, which is a departure from small caves and cliffs whee they have traditionally nested, tree cavities and bird boxes, and holes in banks of soil and drainage pipes over waterways.
All swallows are graceful and swift on the wing. They have to be to chase down and grab flying insects. And their fast, swooping, back and forth flights over open country, including farmland, are entertaining to us.
Barn swallows and cliff swallows are aptly named because the first species rears young in cradles plastered to support beams in barns and under bridges over small waterways in farmland as they do in small, shallow caves. Cliff swallows hatch offspring on the sides of buildings and bridges as they do on cliffs. Each species forms small colonies to raise offspring, thereby taking the best advantage of the limited space they use for nesting.
Both species make nurseries of mud pellets. Each bird of every pair of both kinds roll mud pellets in their beaks and fly them up to their nurseries. There they put each pellet in place for their nest. The barn swallows make an open cup, while the cliff swallows create an enclosed, jug-shaped nest with a hole in the side just big enough for the birds to slip in and out.
Barn swallows are common in local farmland, nesting in most every barn and small bridge in the region. But cliff swallows are not common here, having few nesting colonies. Both species are deep-purple on top and pale orange below, with differences in details between the species.
Tree swallows and purple martins both had reared young in abandoned woodpecker holes and other tree cavities. Tree swallows still do, but the martins are completely tied to human-made bird boxes and gourds that people put out for them. Male tree swallows are metallic-blue on top and white below, while male purple martins are a deep purple all over and their mates are smoky above and off-white underneath.
Tree swallows can nest as individual pairs and in small, loose colonies, depending upon the number of cavities available to them in a region. And they not only hatch youngsters in natural cavities, but in bird houses, as well. Those bird boxes were erected originally for eastern bluebirds to raise young, but many tree swallow pairs take over bluebird boxes and chase away the bluebirds. Sometimes a few pairs of tree swallows gang up on a pair of bluebirds to drive them off.
Purple martins always live in tight, sometimes large, colonies in the farm yards of cropland. Certain people erect apartment bird houses and/or strings of gourds for the martins, though starlings, house sparrows and other kinds of birds also want to use those bird boxes. Most of the summer the martins keep up a constant activity of catching insects, and a chatter that is pleasant to people who enjoy those largest of swallows around their homes.
Bank swallows and rough-winged swallows are both brownish species that hatch youngsters in hollows in stream banks. The bank swallows live in colonies and each pair digs a burrow in a stream bank of soil above the normal waterline where they rear their young. Individual pairs of rough-wings dig tunnels in stream banks, too, but they also raise babies in abandoned kingfisher burrows and drainage pipes in stream banks. Those pipes are safe homes for developing youngsters until heavy rain is conducted down the pipes, washing out young, nest and all.
All these swallow species in the local area, except maybe the bank swallows, probably have higher population numbers now than ever in their life histories. That is due to their adapting to human-made conditions. And all these swallow species, particularly the more common barn swallows, tree swallows and purple martins, are entertaining to us. This spring and summer, or succeeding ones, watch for these beautiful, entertaining birds that catch insects in graceful flight.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Animals in Park Pavilions
I've been in park pavilions many times over the years and have been amazed by the number of animals that benefit from those open, outdoor structures, most of which are in woodlands. Pavilions provide shelter for those creatures, and human-made food to some species.
Most of the creatures in pavilions are either birds or invertebrates. But all of them are adaptable, and common as species. And all of them provide interest, if one is open to that type of entertainment.
Gray squirrels, eastern chipmunks and a few kinds of birds enter pavilions during the day, often when people are in them, to eat crumbs and other edibles left behind on tables and floors by humans. The birds include starlings, American crows and song sparrows the year around, chipping sparrows in summer and yellow-rumped warblers in winter. The sparrows and yellow-rumps also eat some of the invertebrates they find in pavilions. None of the mammals and birds want to bother anybody. They are there only to get easy meals.
Some kinds of native birds, including eastern phoebes, American robins, Carolina wrens and mourning doves, nest on the support beams under pavilion roofs. Phoebes traditionally nest on rock ledges, under sheltering, over-hanging boulders near water in woods. To phoebes, support beams are rock ledges and roofs are overhanging boulders so they raise young in pavilions, porches and other outdoor structures of that type.
The adaptable robins, Carolina wrens and mourning doves also hatch offspring on support beams in pavilions. All these birds are interesting to experience, but please leave them alone. After all, they are protected by law.
Little brown bats could hang out by day under the roofs of pavilions during summer, but I haven't seen that yet. Again, the bats are only seeking a daytime shelter between their feeding on insects at night. Try to leave them alone, too.
Some of the more common invertebrates that live in pavilions are carpenter ants and other kinds of ants, carpenter bees, paper wasps, mud-dauber wasps and a small variety of spiders. Female carpenter bees chew round holes in the sides of the wooden beams. Each one stuffs a ball of flower nectar and pollen in each compartment she made in her cavity so that her larva that hatches in each section will have food to grow, pupae and emerge as an adult bee.
Paper wasps and mud-dauber wasps build their nurseries on the ceilings and support beams of pavilions. Paper wasps chew wood and make several six-sided cells in a cluster that is attached by a single, thin stem to a structure. Mud-daubers collect mud and plaster it to structures, producing a few nurseries, side by side, that resemble tiny organ pipes. There those wasps rear their offspring.
The various kinds of spiders spin their webs from beams and ceilings to snare flies and other flying insects. Spider webs are engineering marvels and pretty to see at times, but some of them are a nuisance in a pavilion during summer when those pavilions are most likely to be used.
These are my own observations of life in pavilions, most of which are in woods. The reader may have had other experiences with wildlife in a pavilion.
Most of the creatures in pavilions are either birds or invertebrates. But all of them are adaptable, and common as species. And all of them provide interest, if one is open to that type of entertainment.
Gray squirrels, eastern chipmunks and a few kinds of birds enter pavilions during the day, often when people are in them, to eat crumbs and other edibles left behind on tables and floors by humans. The birds include starlings, American crows and song sparrows the year around, chipping sparrows in summer and yellow-rumped warblers in winter. The sparrows and yellow-rumps also eat some of the invertebrates they find in pavilions. None of the mammals and birds want to bother anybody. They are there only to get easy meals.
Some kinds of native birds, including eastern phoebes, American robins, Carolina wrens and mourning doves, nest on the support beams under pavilion roofs. Phoebes traditionally nest on rock ledges, under sheltering, over-hanging boulders near water in woods. To phoebes, support beams are rock ledges and roofs are overhanging boulders so they raise young in pavilions, porches and other outdoor structures of that type.
The adaptable robins, Carolina wrens and mourning doves also hatch offspring on support beams in pavilions. All these birds are interesting to experience, but please leave them alone. After all, they are protected by law.
Little brown bats could hang out by day under the roofs of pavilions during summer, but I haven't seen that yet. Again, the bats are only seeking a daytime shelter between their feeding on insects at night. Try to leave them alone, too.
Some of the more common invertebrates that live in pavilions are carpenter ants and other kinds of ants, carpenter bees, paper wasps, mud-dauber wasps and a small variety of spiders. Female carpenter bees chew round holes in the sides of the wooden beams. Each one stuffs a ball of flower nectar and pollen in each compartment she made in her cavity so that her larva that hatches in each section will have food to grow, pupae and emerge as an adult bee.
Paper wasps and mud-dauber wasps build their nurseries on the ceilings and support beams of pavilions. Paper wasps chew wood and make several six-sided cells in a cluster that is attached by a single, thin stem to a structure. Mud-daubers collect mud and plaster it to structures, producing a few nurseries, side by side, that resemble tiny organ pipes. There those wasps rear their offspring.
The various kinds of spiders spin their webs from beams and ceilings to snare flies and other flying insects. Spider webs are engineering marvels and pretty to see at times, but some of them are a nuisance in a pavilion during summer when those pavilions are most likely to be used.
These are my own observations of life in pavilions, most of which are in woods. The reader may have had other experiences with wildlife in a pavilion.
Small, Live-bearing Fish
When I was about 12 years old, I bought a half dozen guppies, three males and three females. I put them in a one-gallon jar with some algae as a natural green in that jar. I fed them the usual dried tropical fish food and changed their water every so often. And, in spite of their small container, the females gave live birth, though most of the babies were eaten by the adult guppies. At night, I would light the light over the guppy jar and watch those small fish go about their daily lives. The most interesting part of their lives was the males courting and inseminating the females. Each male swam back and forth in front of a female with jerky motions to show off the iridescent colors of his flanks. Then he would quickly rush in to inseminate her.
There are three kinds of small, live-bearing fish that are abundant in the wild, related to each other, that I find to be interesting, and bred for the fresh water aquarium trade. They are common guppies, mosquito fish and dwarf live-bearers. Each male of these species has an anal fin that is curled into a tiny tube that directs sperm toward the dark spot at each female's anal fin. That also is where the tiny, free-swimming young exit their mothers' bodies. Larger females of each species can deliver up to 40 young in a brood, and each female averages about one brood a month. The young mature in about two months.
All three of these species are much alike in size, shape, and habits. They all have body colors that allow them to blend into their habitats so they are not so easily seen by predators. Each species has large eyes to find their food items of small invertebrates in sometimes murky water. Individuals of all three live a couple of years, if they're lucky; many kinds of fish and other animals in the wild eat them. All species swim in noticeable schools of themselves alone. And all species are fresh water fish that don't tolerate cold weather.
Guppies are the most popular of tropical fish in aquariums because they are hardy, adaptable and entertaining, and the males have bright colors on their sides, though females are plain beige all over. Therefore, they are the best known of these three fish species. Female guppies can be an inch and a half long, while males are about an inch.
Guppies are originally from the backwaters of small, shallow waterways in northeastern South America where it is always warm, hence this fish's intolerance to cold. Today guppies are in aquariums all over the world and many fancy, even more colorful, breeds of them have been developed over the years. And today guppies have been introduced into the wild in many tropical places throughout the world. They are quite successful as a species because of their ability to adapt to varied habitats and conditions.
Male and female mosquito fish are both plain beige or olive. Females can be close to two inches in length while males are about an inch long. Their original range is the Atlantic Coastal Plain between the Appalachian Mountains and the Atlantic Ocean from Delaware to Florida and west south of the Appalachians to the southern part of the Mississippi River and its southern tributaries.
Mosquito fish live in the shallows of warm, quiet waters of springs, waterways with slow currents and impoundments. This species specializes in consuming mosquito larvae, hence their common name and the reason they have been introduced all over the world; to control mosquito populations. They don't make good aquarium fish because they are aggressive and can be destructive to other kinds of small fish in an aquarium.
Male and female dwarf live-bearers are light-gray all over with a horizontal, black line on each flank. This is the smallest native fish species, in fact, the smallest vertebrate species, in North America. Females may reach an inch long while their mates reach about a half inch. They live in shallows with much aquatic vegetation in wetlands, ponds and slow-moving waterways from South Carolina to Florida and along the Gulf Coast to Louisiana. They are shy, inoffensive little fish that do well in aquariums with other types of small fish.
Whether the reader has seen these small fish in the wild or in aquariums or not, it's neat to know they exist in the wild and have been domesticated for aquariums and to be introduced in warmer areas around the world. They are handsome, little fish with interesting life histories, fish well-worth knowing in the wild or in aquariums.
There are three kinds of small, live-bearing fish that are abundant in the wild, related to each other, that I find to be interesting, and bred for the fresh water aquarium trade. They are common guppies, mosquito fish and dwarf live-bearers. Each male of these species has an anal fin that is curled into a tiny tube that directs sperm toward the dark spot at each female's anal fin. That also is where the tiny, free-swimming young exit their mothers' bodies. Larger females of each species can deliver up to 40 young in a brood, and each female averages about one brood a month. The young mature in about two months.
All three of these species are much alike in size, shape, and habits. They all have body colors that allow them to blend into their habitats so they are not so easily seen by predators. Each species has large eyes to find their food items of small invertebrates in sometimes murky water. Individuals of all three live a couple of years, if they're lucky; many kinds of fish and other animals in the wild eat them. All species swim in noticeable schools of themselves alone. And all species are fresh water fish that don't tolerate cold weather.
Guppies are the most popular of tropical fish in aquariums because they are hardy, adaptable and entertaining, and the males have bright colors on their sides, though females are plain beige all over. Therefore, they are the best known of these three fish species. Female guppies can be an inch and a half long, while males are about an inch.
Guppies are originally from the backwaters of small, shallow waterways in northeastern South America where it is always warm, hence this fish's intolerance to cold. Today guppies are in aquariums all over the world and many fancy, even more colorful, breeds of them have been developed over the years. And today guppies have been introduced into the wild in many tropical places throughout the world. They are quite successful as a species because of their ability to adapt to varied habitats and conditions.
Male and female mosquito fish are both plain beige or olive. Females can be close to two inches in length while males are about an inch long. Their original range is the Atlantic Coastal Plain between the Appalachian Mountains and the Atlantic Ocean from Delaware to Florida and west south of the Appalachians to the southern part of the Mississippi River and its southern tributaries.
Mosquito fish live in the shallows of warm, quiet waters of springs, waterways with slow currents and impoundments. This species specializes in consuming mosquito larvae, hence their common name and the reason they have been introduced all over the world; to control mosquito populations. They don't make good aquarium fish because they are aggressive and can be destructive to other kinds of small fish in an aquarium.
Male and female dwarf live-bearers are light-gray all over with a horizontal, black line on each flank. This is the smallest native fish species, in fact, the smallest vertebrate species, in North America. Females may reach an inch long while their mates reach about a half inch. They live in shallows with much aquatic vegetation in wetlands, ponds and slow-moving waterways from South Carolina to Florida and along the Gulf Coast to Louisiana. They are shy, inoffensive little fish that do well in aquariums with other types of small fish.
Whether the reader has seen these small fish in the wild or in aquariums or not, it's neat to know they exist in the wild and have been domesticated for aquariums and to be introduced in warmer areas around the world. They are handsome, little fish with interesting life histories, fish well-worth knowing in the wild or in aquariums.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Wintering Birds Along Flowing Water
When winter temperatures become really cold for an extended period of time in southeastern Pennsylvania, as elsewhere, impoundments, large and small, freeze over completely. Then a variety of wintering, waterbird species have no choice but to seek other sources of open water, including the slower-moving, but ice-free stretches of freshwater, inland creeks, streams and brooks. There those birds can still find food, and protection on the water, while making those waterways more interesting to us. In the farmland of Lancaster County, for example, wintering Canada geese, mallard ducks, black ducks, common merganser ducks, great blue herons, belted kingfishers, killdeer plovers and American pipits seek food in running water, and/or along its shores, or in the pastures and fields near the ice-free waterways when lakes and ponds are frozen and snow covers the ground.
One freezing, but sunny, day during February, 2015, I drove by a meadow of tall grass that has a slow-moving stream flowing through the middle of it about a half-mile south of New Holland. I saw a flock of Canada geese plucking and eating grass stems near the stream. And I saw a gathering of about 60 mallard ducks hunkered down in the grass to rest in the sunlight, but out of the cold wind, while a half dozen other mallards were swimming and feeding in the stream. Though I see both those species locally almost daily, those geese and ducks were striking in the warm sunlight and beige tall grass. And I was relatively sure those mallards were the same ones that regularly frequent a pond on the northern edge of New Holland. But they were forced to leave that pond when it froze and became attractive to ice skaters. As I admired the beauty of the scene, I thought it would be neat for a great blue heron to drop into the stream. A few moments later, one did! There it waded slowly, watching for fish it could catch and eat.
This winter, I've seen flocks of magnificent Canada geese on ice-free parts of the Conestoga River, and on creeks. They rest on the open water, and fly majestically and noisily out to pastures, rye fields and harvested corn fields to consume green blades of grass and rye and waste corn. When full, those stately geese power back to the waterway to rest, socialize and preen their feathers.
A few wintering black ducks rest here and there on waterways when lakes are frozen, but usually under the sheltering limbs of trees hanging over the water. Those dark ducks, then, are difficult to spot in such a niche. But being mallard relatives, the big, handsome black ducks often join mallards in corn fields in winter to shovel up waste corn kernels with their shovel-like beaks.
Common mergansers and belted kingfishers feed on small fish. But they turn to diving under water to catch fish in the still-flowing creeks when impoundments freeze over. Herons, mergansers and kingfishers all snare fish, but in different ways, which helps make them entertaining. These birds also catch fish at different depths, reducing competition among themselves. The herons wade on long legs and stretch out their long necks to get their prey. Mergansers slip deep under water from the surface, while kingfishers dive from a tree overhanging the water or from hovering into the wind to snare prey near the surface. All these bird species, however, catch prey with their bills.
A few each of Killdeer plovers and American pipits winter on the fields where they feed on invertebrates that are dead or alive when they find them. But when snow covers the fields, these birds join Wilson's snipe and song sparrows along the muddy edges of the waterways. The snipe and sparrows are along the streams all winter, regardless of the temperatures. The killdeer and pipits find innumerable invertebrates in the shallows and on the mud of the edges of the waterways and scrunch down among clumps of vegetation to avoid the cold wind.
Many of the above-mentioned birds will return to ponds and lakes when those impoundments thaw. But the flowing waterways were life-savers to many birds, when they were the only open water available to those birds.
One freezing, but sunny, day during February, 2015, I drove by a meadow of tall grass that has a slow-moving stream flowing through the middle of it about a half-mile south of New Holland. I saw a flock of Canada geese plucking and eating grass stems near the stream. And I saw a gathering of about 60 mallard ducks hunkered down in the grass to rest in the sunlight, but out of the cold wind, while a half dozen other mallards were swimming and feeding in the stream. Though I see both those species locally almost daily, those geese and ducks were striking in the warm sunlight and beige tall grass. And I was relatively sure those mallards were the same ones that regularly frequent a pond on the northern edge of New Holland. But they were forced to leave that pond when it froze and became attractive to ice skaters. As I admired the beauty of the scene, I thought it would be neat for a great blue heron to drop into the stream. A few moments later, one did! There it waded slowly, watching for fish it could catch and eat.
This winter, I've seen flocks of magnificent Canada geese on ice-free parts of the Conestoga River, and on creeks. They rest on the open water, and fly majestically and noisily out to pastures, rye fields and harvested corn fields to consume green blades of grass and rye and waste corn. When full, those stately geese power back to the waterway to rest, socialize and preen their feathers.
A few wintering black ducks rest here and there on waterways when lakes are frozen, but usually under the sheltering limbs of trees hanging over the water. Those dark ducks, then, are difficult to spot in such a niche. But being mallard relatives, the big, handsome black ducks often join mallards in corn fields in winter to shovel up waste corn kernels with their shovel-like beaks.
Common mergansers and belted kingfishers feed on small fish. But they turn to diving under water to catch fish in the still-flowing creeks when impoundments freeze over. Herons, mergansers and kingfishers all snare fish, but in different ways, which helps make them entertaining. These birds also catch fish at different depths, reducing competition among themselves. The herons wade on long legs and stretch out their long necks to get their prey. Mergansers slip deep under water from the surface, while kingfishers dive from a tree overhanging the water or from hovering into the wind to snare prey near the surface. All these bird species, however, catch prey with their bills.
A few each of Killdeer plovers and American pipits winter on the fields where they feed on invertebrates that are dead or alive when they find them. But when snow covers the fields, these birds join Wilson's snipe and song sparrows along the muddy edges of the waterways. The snipe and sparrows are along the streams all winter, regardless of the temperatures. The killdeer and pipits find innumerable invertebrates in the shallows and on the mud of the edges of the waterways and scrunch down among clumps of vegetation to avoid the cold wind.
Many of the above-mentioned birds will return to ponds and lakes when those impoundments thaw. But the flowing waterways were life-savers to many birds, when they were the only open water available to those birds.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Encounters With Skunks
Many striped skunks live in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, probably more than we natives to this area know because skunks are nocturnal creatures. We sometimes smell strong, musky skunk spray, which is the most likely way we are aware of a skunk's nearby presence, when one of them gets in trouble or is hit by a vehicle. We smell them often during spring when males are traveling about looking for mates in unfamiliar territory, and a few have to defend themselves or are killed on a road. And we pick up the scent of young skunks in autumn when they move about in territories they don't know in search of their own home range and encounter trouble or are killed on a road.
The fur of striped skunks is attractive, mostly black with two white stripes down the back. But skunk patterns are variable. Some of them are almost completely black all over, while others are almost completely white on top. Each skunk is about the size of a house cat, but chunkier. There was a time, not long ago, when they were trapped for their fur. I once saw a dead skunk in a trap that was never recovered: What a shame.
I have had many encounters with skunks, some of which I remember vividly. The first one I saw was when I was about 12 years old and living in the country outside Rohrerstown in Lancaster County. On a sunny summer evening I climbed a tree in a hedgerow between fields to see wildlife. A few kinds of small birds were around and then I saw a gray fox walk under the tree I was in. Minutes later a skunk waddled under the tree. Neither critter seemed to notice me in the tree. I was thrilled to see the fox and skunk so closely on the same beautiful evening.
As a young adult, I lived in Neffsville in Lancaster County. One crisp, October evening after dark I went into the yard to look at the stars and feel the cool air. While on the lawn, I heard a peculiar hissing and stomping. Thinking those subtle noises were coming from a skunk, I went in the house to get a flashlight. I flashed the light around the yard and, sure enough, there was a skunk. The skunk did not seem to be alarmed, but I went into the house to avoid an encounter.
Another evening at dusk at that same house, I saw the skunk, probably the same one, come across our yard and crawl into a hole in one of our garbage cans. The can shook a bit as the skunk was getting edible tidbits. The next evening I sat in my car and watched for the skunk to go in that garbage can at twilight, which it did. For several evenings the skunk walked across our lawn and into the can for edibles.
A few years later in Neffsville, we had another skunk in the yard. I built a brush pile in a ditch on the side of the lawn that I hoped animals would hide in. After a heavy rain the ditch filled with water and watched from inside the house for creatures to come out of the brush pile. Two critters did, an opossum that promptly climbed a small tree to escape the water and a skunk that waddled rapidly across the grass.
I co-led periodic night tours in a van with a powerful spotlight in Lancaster County Central Park when I was a naturalist there to see nocturnal wildlife. We saw lots of white-tailed deer, plus cottontail rabbits, red foxes, opossums, raccoons and striped skunks. Some of those critters, including the skunks, were close to the van where everyone got good looks at them.
I have seen skunks while I was on foot in the country or in woodlands. I always give those creatures as wide a berth as I can, but they don't seem to acknowledge my presence. Luckily, I have never been sprayed by a skunk.
I have unexpectedly seen skunks on country roads when driving at night. I remember seeing a couple of them near the Ephrata area, one in the Twin Valleys region and a couple others near Holtwood near the Susquehanna River in southern Lancaster County. I always do my best to avoid hitting those furry critters.
Of course, I have seen many skunks dead along roads both in the country and in towns. They are slow to get off roads because they rely on their spray to save them, not realizing that vehicles are not impressed by that stinky liquid. Dead skunks have relatives nearby, so we know where skunks are living partly by noting where their dead relatives are.
Striped skunks are always interesting to see wherever they may be. As a species, they range across much of North America and are quite adaptable, taking advantage of a variety of habitats, including farmland, woodlands, cities and suburban areas. And they will eat practically anything, another reason why they are successful and common. If the reader encounters a skunk, give it lots of room to walk away without incident. That practice is good for the skunk, and you.
The fur of striped skunks is attractive, mostly black with two white stripes down the back. But skunk patterns are variable. Some of them are almost completely black all over, while others are almost completely white on top. Each skunk is about the size of a house cat, but chunkier. There was a time, not long ago, when they were trapped for their fur. I once saw a dead skunk in a trap that was never recovered: What a shame.
I have had many encounters with skunks, some of which I remember vividly. The first one I saw was when I was about 12 years old and living in the country outside Rohrerstown in Lancaster County. On a sunny summer evening I climbed a tree in a hedgerow between fields to see wildlife. A few kinds of small birds were around and then I saw a gray fox walk under the tree I was in. Minutes later a skunk waddled under the tree. Neither critter seemed to notice me in the tree. I was thrilled to see the fox and skunk so closely on the same beautiful evening.
As a young adult, I lived in Neffsville in Lancaster County. One crisp, October evening after dark I went into the yard to look at the stars and feel the cool air. While on the lawn, I heard a peculiar hissing and stomping. Thinking those subtle noises were coming from a skunk, I went in the house to get a flashlight. I flashed the light around the yard and, sure enough, there was a skunk. The skunk did not seem to be alarmed, but I went into the house to avoid an encounter.
Another evening at dusk at that same house, I saw the skunk, probably the same one, come across our yard and crawl into a hole in one of our garbage cans. The can shook a bit as the skunk was getting edible tidbits. The next evening I sat in my car and watched for the skunk to go in that garbage can at twilight, which it did. For several evenings the skunk walked across our lawn and into the can for edibles.
A few years later in Neffsville, we had another skunk in the yard. I built a brush pile in a ditch on the side of the lawn that I hoped animals would hide in. After a heavy rain the ditch filled with water and watched from inside the house for creatures to come out of the brush pile. Two critters did, an opossum that promptly climbed a small tree to escape the water and a skunk that waddled rapidly across the grass.
I co-led periodic night tours in a van with a powerful spotlight in Lancaster County Central Park when I was a naturalist there to see nocturnal wildlife. We saw lots of white-tailed deer, plus cottontail rabbits, red foxes, opossums, raccoons and striped skunks. Some of those critters, including the skunks, were close to the van where everyone got good looks at them.
I have seen skunks while I was on foot in the country or in woodlands. I always give those creatures as wide a berth as I can, but they don't seem to acknowledge my presence. Luckily, I have never been sprayed by a skunk.
I have unexpectedly seen skunks on country roads when driving at night. I remember seeing a couple of them near the Ephrata area, one in the Twin Valleys region and a couple others near Holtwood near the Susquehanna River in southern Lancaster County. I always do my best to avoid hitting those furry critters.
Of course, I have seen many skunks dead along roads both in the country and in towns. They are slow to get off roads because they rely on their spray to save them, not realizing that vehicles are not impressed by that stinky liquid. Dead skunks have relatives nearby, so we know where skunks are living partly by noting where their dead relatives are.
Striped skunks are always interesting to see wherever they may be. As a species, they range across much of North America and are quite adaptable, taking advantage of a variety of habitats, including farmland, woodlands, cities and suburban areas. And they will eat practically anything, another reason why they are successful and common. If the reader encounters a skunk, give it lots of room to walk away without incident. That practice is good for the skunk, and you.
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