Today I drove by a five foot tall, twenty foot long pile of chicken manure on the end of a field along the country road I was on. But a score of beautiful barn swallows sweeping swiftly at once over and around that manure pile made me stop and watch that pile of chicken droppings more closely for about half an hour. As always, the swallows were entertaining while zipping and weaving among each other, without collision, as they snapped up flies and other insects that were flying above the chicken droppings. I know it was chicken waste because of the many white feathers in it.
I noticed, too, that several starlings, a pair of house sparrows and a northern mockingbird, all from a nearby suburban area, were on that pile of droppings and poked their beaks into crannies to pull out flies and other invertebrates. The rummaging of those hungry birds after invertebrates in the manure stirred up some of the flies that were snared in mid-air by the equally ravenous swallows.
Some of the swallows took turns landing on the pile of droppings to rest for a short time. Then I could better see their forked tails and beautiful feather coloring of metallic deep-purple on top and light-orange below.
While watching the birds on, or careening over, the manure pile, I thought it never ceases to amaze me how adaptable most forms of life are, even here on a pile of chicken poop. Adaptable creatures readily take advantage of various kinds of shelters and food sources; really whatever is available.
Probably that pile of chicken manure will be spread over the field it is on and the birds will have to find food elsewhere. But, in the meantime, those adaptable and abundant birds getting food from that pile reminded me again of how versatile life is in seeking shelter and nutrition. Being versatile is a key to success in a fast-changing world.
Friday, April 29, 2016
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Entertaining Meadow Wildlife
I visited a short-grass meadow with a stream flowing through it for about an hour on April 28, 2016 to experience whatever beauties of nature I could. This meadow is in a once-forested bottomland with constantly damp to wet soil. But the woodland was long ago cleared to create the cow pasture, and the farmland that surrounds it. All the plants and wild animals in this meadow were either introduced by people or adapted to human-made habitats.
I know a forest was here originally because of the patches of skunk cabbage plants in the pasture. Skunk cabbage can tolerate shade and flourishes on wet forest floors. But when the trees were removed to make the meadow, the skunk cabbage adapted to lots of direct sunlight and continued to thrive.
Meanwhile, cattails and sedges that prefer ample sunlight took root among the skunk cabbage plants in this human-created pasture. And so today skunk cabbage, cattails, sedges and a few trees all flourish among each other in an interesting plant community in the wetter parts of this short-grass meadow, the background for the entertaining and abundant species of birds I saw in it today.
Several each of tree swallows and barn swallows were real entertainers in that pasture today. Swallows of both kinds continually weaved and swooped among each other in mid-air, careening swiftly low to the ground and stream, without collision. They were catching small, flying insects that are too small for us to see at any distance. And both species were beautifully stream-lined and feathered, the tree swallows with metallic-blue upper parts and white under parts and the barn swallows being purple above and light orange below.
The barn swallows will nest in neighboring barns and some of the tree swallows will rear offspring in tree cavities and bird boxes erected in the meadow and nearby farmland for them. But there were so many tree swallows that I thought many of them are migrants that stopped at a hot spot of insects for lunch.
Both male and female red-winged blackbirds were among or near the cattail stands. Some of the males were perched on last year's dead cattail stems to regularly sing "kong-ga-ree" while raising their black wings to show off their red shoulder patches, which attracts females to them for mating. But the females and some of the males were feeding on invertebrates they found among the short grasses of the pasture.
Male red-wings are black all over, except for those red shoulders, each one lined with a stripe of yellow. Female red-wings are brown with darker streaks all over their plumage, feathering that camouflages them around their nest and young. Each female red-wing will weave a grass nursery among a few neighboring cattail stems, a few feet above the ground as a precaution against flooding. Young red-wings, when leaving their grass cradle, look like their mothers.
Many American robins ran and stopped, ran and stopped over the short-grass meadow as they do over regularly mowed lawns in their searches for earthworms and other invertebrates. I am amazed at how many robins are in this county at all seasons recently. They seem to be almost everywhere, including on lawns, pastures and some fields.
Robins are members of the woodland thrush family, but this species probably nested traditionally in small trees in forest clearings and edges, rather than in the deep forests. Today robins hatch young in younger trees and shrubbery, including those near this meadow.
I enjoyed watching the lively birds gathering food and claiming nesting sites in this meadow close to home. It was an inspiring experience.
I know a forest was here originally because of the patches of skunk cabbage plants in the pasture. Skunk cabbage can tolerate shade and flourishes on wet forest floors. But when the trees were removed to make the meadow, the skunk cabbage adapted to lots of direct sunlight and continued to thrive.
Meanwhile, cattails and sedges that prefer ample sunlight took root among the skunk cabbage plants in this human-created pasture. And so today skunk cabbage, cattails, sedges and a few trees all flourish among each other in an interesting plant community in the wetter parts of this short-grass meadow, the background for the entertaining and abundant species of birds I saw in it today.
Several each of tree swallows and barn swallows were real entertainers in that pasture today. Swallows of both kinds continually weaved and swooped among each other in mid-air, careening swiftly low to the ground and stream, without collision. They were catching small, flying insects that are too small for us to see at any distance. And both species were beautifully stream-lined and feathered, the tree swallows with metallic-blue upper parts and white under parts and the barn swallows being purple above and light orange below.
The barn swallows will nest in neighboring barns and some of the tree swallows will rear offspring in tree cavities and bird boxes erected in the meadow and nearby farmland for them. But there were so many tree swallows that I thought many of them are migrants that stopped at a hot spot of insects for lunch.
Both male and female red-winged blackbirds were among or near the cattail stands. Some of the males were perched on last year's dead cattail stems to regularly sing "kong-ga-ree" while raising their black wings to show off their red shoulder patches, which attracts females to them for mating. But the females and some of the males were feeding on invertebrates they found among the short grasses of the pasture.
Male red-wings are black all over, except for those red shoulders, each one lined with a stripe of yellow. Female red-wings are brown with darker streaks all over their plumage, feathering that camouflages them around their nest and young. Each female red-wing will weave a grass nursery among a few neighboring cattail stems, a few feet above the ground as a precaution against flooding. Young red-wings, when leaving their grass cradle, look like their mothers.
Many American robins ran and stopped, ran and stopped over the short-grass meadow as they do over regularly mowed lawns in their searches for earthworms and other invertebrates. I am amazed at how many robins are in this county at all seasons recently. They seem to be almost everywhere, including on lawns, pastures and some fields.
Robins are members of the woodland thrush family, but this species probably nested traditionally in small trees in forest clearings and edges, rather than in the deep forests. Today robins hatch young in younger trees and shrubbery, including those near this meadow.
I enjoyed watching the lively birds gathering food and claiming nesting sites in this meadow close to home. It was an inspiring experience.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Wildlife From Our Deck
On the warm, lovely evening of April 25, we sat on our back deck in New Holland, Pennsylvania for about an hour and a half to enjoy spring. And while we were there, we noticed much wildlife on our lawn and in the air above it, making our time on the deck more enjoyable and entertaining.
Our two side-by-side bird baths were an attraction that evening because several kinds of critters took their turns coming to them to drink and/or bathe. Watch a bird bath to learn what creatures are living near it because most of them regularly come to it. That evening a gray squirrel drank at one of our bird baths and so did a few house sparrows, a beautiful male white-throated sparrow, a pair of Carolina wrens, a blue jay, and a gray catbird just recently arrived here from wherever he wintered.
The sky over our lawn was interesting with the activities of locally nesting purple grackles, American robins and mourning doves. I saw three chimney swifts swirling over our yard after flying insects. These small birds are back from northern South America to nest down the inside of chimneys. And I saw a red-tailed hawk and a Cooper's hawk soar over our yard at different times. Both these raptor species have nested in our neighborhood, and might be at this time.
There were other, random critters on our lawn as the sun sank in the west. I saw a baby cottontail rabbit hopping over the lawn and nibbling grass and other plants. Every year, we have a couple of broods of cottontails born in some protected spot in our yard. A single tiger swallowtail butterfly fluttered among the trees. I saw and heard a pair of northern cardinals, both genders in lovely feathering. And I saw a pair of Carolina chickadees in a pussy willow bush and a song sparrow singing from a top twig on a viburnum bush.
And while I was on the deck that evening, I noticed where a mourning dove and an American robin were building nests in young arborvitae trees. Each kind of bird repeatedly flew into a tree with dried grass and other materials in its beak. But I made no move to see the nurseries because I didn't want to disturb the birds.
After sunset, I counted five bats, probably little browns and big browns, judging by their different sizes and ways of flying. Sweeping and dipping after insects over our neighborhood, as elsewhere at dusk, bats are entertaining in the air when capturing insect prey that is trying to escape.
Sitting on our deck was enjoyable, especially when entertained by various types of wildlife. Readers can do the same, wherever you may be. Just get out and look for wildlife in any nearby neighborhood at any time of day..
Our two side-by-side bird baths were an attraction that evening because several kinds of critters took their turns coming to them to drink and/or bathe. Watch a bird bath to learn what creatures are living near it because most of them regularly come to it. That evening a gray squirrel drank at one of our bird baths and so did a few house sparrows, a beautiful male white-throated sparrow, a pair of Carolina wrens, a blue jay, and a gray catbird just recently arrived here from wherever he wintered.
The sky over our lawn was interesting with the activities of locally nesting purple grackles, American robins and mourning doves. I saw three chimney swifts swirling over our yard after flying insects. These small birds are back from northern South America to nest down the inside of chimneys. And I saw a red-tailed hawk and a Cooper's hawk soar over our yard at different times. Both these raptor species have nested in our neighborhood, and might be at this time.
There were other, random critters on our lawn as the sun sank in the west. I saw a baby cottontail rabbit hopping over the lawn and nibbling grass and other plants. Every year, we have a couple of broods of cottontails born in some protected spot in our yard. A single tiger swallowtail butterfly fluttered among the trees. I saw and heard a pair of northern cardinals, both genders in lovely feathering. And I saw a pair of Carolina chickadees in a pussy willow bush and a song sparrow singing from a top twig on a viburnum bush.
And while I was on the deck that evening, I noticed where a mourning dove and an American robin were building nests in young arborvitae trees. Each kind of bird repeatedly flew into a tree with dried grass and other materials in its beak. But I made no move to see the nurseries because I didn't want to disturb the birds.
After sunset, I counted five bats, probably little browns and big browns, judging by their different sizes and ways of flying. Sweeping and dipping after insects over our neighborhood, as elsewhere at dusk, bats are entertaining in the air when capturing insect prey that is trying to escape.
Sitting on our deck was enjoyable, especially when entertained by various types of wildlife. Readers can do the same, wherever you may be. Just get out and look for wildlife in any nearby neighborhood at any time of day..
Monday, April 25, 2016
Wildlife by a Lake Shore
In the afternoon of April 24, 2016, I stopped by the shore of a human-made lake near the road I was on in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania to see what wildlife was visible. There was plenty.
The first creatures I saw were more than 20 tiger swallowtail butterflies on the mud of the lake shore. They had pupated in cocoons in the dead leaf litter on the floor of a nearby woodland through the past winter and recently emerged. Now they seek nectar from flowers, minerals and salts in mud and animal droppings, which they were doing when I saw them, and mates. Those several tiger swallowtails were also entertaining to me while fluttering and bobbing into the wind as they shuttled from place to place on the mud flats.
Several painted turtles of all ages and sizes were picturesquely sunning themselves on tree stumps, and logs fallen into shallow water near the edge of the impoundment. Several kinds of water turtles, being cold-blooded, do this to warm themselves so they have the energy to hunt food and mates the rest of the day.
While along the impoundment shore, I heard male American toads trilling musically in the distance, their voices trailing beautifully across the water and mud as a remnant of the ancient age of amphibians. Though I couldn't see the toads, I figured they were in a puddle of shallow water near the lake, a place where their black tadpoles could hatch without being eaten by fish. From past experiences with spawning toads, I could picture these male toads sitting in inch-deep water, their throats bulging out as they trilled for females to join them in the water to spawn thousands of eggs that will hatch in a week or two, depending on the water temperature.
A few big carp plowed through the shallows to feed on algae and invertebrates in the mud. I could see their scaly backs protruding above the water as they pushed this way and that. Occasionally a carp jumped partly out of the water with a splash, presumably after low-flying insects.
Several tree swallows skimmed in erratic flight low over the water in hot pursuit of flying insects. They are easily identified by their metallic-blue backs and pure white under parts. They will soon nest in tree cavities and bird boxes near the impoundment.
About 20 migrant American coots repeatedly dove under water from the surface to eat algae and other water vegetation in the shallows. Down and up, down and up, swallowing the plants when on the surface, then diving again for more. The coots were unmistakable to identify because of their habits, shapes, gray feathering all over and gleaming, white beaks.
I was happy to notice a few broods of recently-hatched Canada geese goslings, each one with both of their protective parents. The goslings were small and cute, each one clad in gray and yellow fuzz as they grazed on vegetation of the lake shore.
And I saw a pair of wood ducks swimming in the shallows along the shore of the water closest to a deciduous woods. The hen probably has been laying an egg a day in a tree hollow somewhere in that woodland. She will start setting on her clutch of 12 or more eggs after the last one is laid so all the ducklings will hatch on the same day and leave their nursery together the next day. Staying together and with their mother is the ducklings best strategy for survival.
It was an interesting hour and a half I spent along that lake shore. Anyone can do the same as I did simply by having patience and quietly waiting for critters to come by wherever you happen to be.
The first creatures I saw were more than 20 tiger swallowtail butterflies on the mud of the lake shore. They had pupated in cocoons in the dead leaf litter on the floor of a nearby woodland through the past winter and recently emerged. Now they seek nectar from flowers, minerals and salts in mud and animal droppings, which they were doing when I saw them, and mates. Those several tiger swallowtails were also entertaining to me while fluttering and bobbing into the wind as they shuttled from place to place on the mud flats.
Several painted turtles of all ages and sizes were picturesquely sunning themselves on tree stumps, and logs fallen into shallow water near the edge of the impoundment. Several kinds of water turtles, being cold-blooded, do this to warm themselves so they have the energy to hunt food and mates the rest of the day.
While along the impoundment shore, I heard male American toads trilling musically in the distance, their voices trailing beautifully across the water and mud as a remnant of the ancient age of amphibians. Though I couldn't see the toads, I figured they were in a puddle of shallow water near the lake, a place where their black tadpoles could hatch without being eaten by fish. From past experiences with spawning toads, I could picture these male toads sitting in inch-deep water, their throats bulging out as they trilled for females to join them in the water to spawn thousands of eggs that will hatch in a week or two, depending on the water temperature.
A few big carp plowed through the shallows to feed on algae and invertebrates in the mud. I could see their scaly backs protruding above the water as they pushed this way and that. Occasionally a carp jumped partly out of the water with a splash, presumably after low-flying insects.
Several tree swallows skimmed in erratic flight low over the water in hot pursuit of flying insects. They are easily identified by their metallic-blue backs and pure white under parts. They will soon nest in tree cavities and bird boxes near the impoundment.
About 20 migrant American coots repeatedly dove under water from the surface to eat algae and other water vegetation in the shallows. Down and up, down and up, swallowing the plants when on the surface, then diving again for more. The coots were unmistakable to identify because of their habits, shapes, gray feathering all over and gleaming, white beaks.
I was happy to notice a few broods of recently-hatched Canada geese goslings, each one with both of their protective parents. The goslings were small and cute, each one clad in gray and yellow fuzz as they grazed on vegetation of the lake shore.
And I saw a pair of wood ducks swimming in the shallows along the shore of the water closest to a deciduous woods. The hen probably has been laying an egg a day in a tree hollow somewhere in that woodland. She will start setting on her clutch of 12 or more eggs after the last one is laid so all the ducklings will hatch on the same day and leave their nursery together the next day. Staying together and with their mother is the ducklings best strategy for survival.
It was an interesting hour and a half I spent along that lake shore. Anyone can do the same as I did simply by having patience and quietly waiting for critters to come by wherever you happen to be.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Waterway Eagle Nests
In February of this year, I was thrilled to notice two mated pairs of bald eagles active at large, stick nests high in big, tall sycamore trees along waterways in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland. One eagle nursery is along a part of Mill Creek and the other is by a section of the Conestoga River, which is a small river. I occasionally watched those eagle nests from inside my car at a discreet distance along rural roads so as to not disturb the eagles. And the last time I checked on both eagle cradles, which was on April 22, 2016, I saw two large, dark youngsters in each one, each pair of offspring guarded by a watchful parent perched in a nearby tree. The other parent of each pair probably was hunting prey animals to feed their young. After viewing both eagle families on the same day, I was pleasantly amazed by the similarities between them.
Sycamore trees, with their mottled light and darker bark, grow commonly along creeks and rivers, watery habitats they define with their unique bark. Bald eagles are attracted and adapted to creeks and rivers where they catch and scavenge larger fish, as well as other creatures. And, given time, many sycamore trunks and limbs become massive, certainly strong enough to support the great weight of large bald eagle nests. Big sycamores, then, are one of the reasons why bald eagles are attracted to Lancaster County waterways, as elsewhere, to hatch young. But there are other reasons as well.
Bald eagles have been protected by law for several years and many young eagles have been raised on and released from hacking towers on Susquehanna River islands to re-establish the species in southeastern Pennsylvania. That, alone, increased bald eagle populations in this area. Today, many balds winter along the Susquehanna and in Lancaster County farmland, habitats with much wildlife to hunt, and wildlife and farm animals to scavenge. Plus people today realize bald eagles don't cause harm and are actually quite intriguing. And the eagles' adapting to farmland and peoples' activities has also helped in their increased numbers in southeastern Pennsylvania, as well as across much of the Lower 48 States. All the above has led to greatly increased bald eagle populations nationwide, and several pairs of balds nesting in Lancaster County in the past 15 years or more.
There have been other pairs of bald eagles nesting along creeks in Lancaster County cropland in the past. Some of those nests had been used for at least a few years, then abandoned by the eagles that moved on to other sites to construct nurseries. The eagles might have depleted the supply of food animals in one area and moved on to fresh hunting areas.
In the meantime, however, I was happy to monitor the two eagle nests I did this year. It is heartening to know that bald eagles can adapt to human-made habitats and activities, including raising young, as long as they are left alone.
Sycamore trees, with their mottled light and darker bark, grow commonly along creeks and rivers, watery habitats they define with their unique bark. Bald eagles are attracted and adapted to creeks and rivers where they catch and scavenge larger fish, as well as other creatures. And, given time, many sycamore trunks and limbs become massive, certainly strong enough to support the great weight of large bald eagle nests. Big sycamores, then, are one of the reasons why bald eagles are attracted to Lancaster County waterways, as elsewhere, to hatch young. But there are other reasons as well.
Bald eagles have been protected by law for several years and many young eagles have been raised on and released from hacking towers on Susquehanna River islands to re-establish the species in southeastern Pennsylvania. That, alone, increased bald eagle populations in this area. Today, many balds winter along the Susquehanna and in Lancaster County farmland, habitats with much wildlife to hunt, and wildlife and farm animals to scavenge. Plus people today realize bald eagles don't cause harm and are actually quite intriguing. And the eagles' adapting to farmland and peoples' activities has also helped in their increased numbers in southeastern Pennsylvania, as well as across much of the Lower 48 States. All the above has led to greatly increased bald eagle populations nationwide, and several pairs of balds nesting in Lancaster County in the past 15 years or more.
There have been other pairs of bald eagles nesting along creeks in Lancaster County cropland in the past. Some of those nests had been used for at least a few years, then abandoned by the eagles that moved on to other sites to construct nurseries. The eagles might have depleted the supply of food animals in one area and moved on to fresh hunting areas.
In the meantime, however, I was happy to monitor the two eagle nests I did this year. It is heartening to know that bald eagles can adapt to human-made habitats and activities, including raising young, as long as they are left alone.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
American Tent Caterpillars
Around the middle of April every year in southeastern Pennsylvania, we see small, white "tents"
of webbing in crotches of wild cherry trees along woodland edges and rural roads. Those silky-looking constructions are the works of newly-hatched American tent caterpillars.
Each protective tent is made by scores of sibling caterpillars that hatched from a cluster of dark eggs laid around a twig of a cherry tree by a single female moth the summer before. Moths of this kind are small, hairy and brown, with an average wingspan of one and a quarter inches. The most obvious parts of this kind of moth is the dwellings the caterpillar siblings make with webbing they exude from their bodies, and the larvae themselves that get up to two inches long and are hairy with black and yellow stripes down their bodies and blue speckles.
American tent caterpillars are widespread in eastern North America, wherever cherry, apple and pear trees grow. The larvae of each communal structure emerge from it at intervals each day in April and May to consume the leaves of the fruit trees they live on, which is cherry trees for the most part. Each larvae lays down a web of silk on the twigs it travels on so it can find its way back to its sheltering nest when it is finished eating. And as they eat and grow, they add threads to their dwelling, which becomes larger and larger in just a few weeks.
Two species of American cuckoos, the yellow-billed and black-billed, specialize in eating hairy moth larvae, including tent caterpillars. Both these kinds of cuckoos are about the size of blue jays and have long, curved beaks that use to reach into caterpillar tents to pull out and consume the larvae. These cuckoos seem a bit sluggish, but they don't have to be quick to catch caterpillars.
Toward the end of May, each tent caterpillar is as large as it will get. All of them stop eating leaves and crawl away from their tent homes and across the leaf-covered ground to sheltered places under logs, bark or rocks where they can pupate in relative safety. A couple of weeks later each one emerges from its cocoon as a small, inconspicuous moth that looks for a mate, lays eggs and dies. But the next generation of tent caterpillars is in an egg mass attached to a cherry twig.
Tent caterpillar homes are conspicuous in cherry trees at this time. One can watch the caterpillars' interesting comings and goings from their shelters until they leave their tents to hide away and pupate toward the end of May.
of webbing in crotches of wild cherry trees along woodland edges and rural roads. Those silky-looking constructions are the works of newly-hatched American tent caterpillars.
Each protective tent is made by scores of sibling caterpillars that hatched from a cluster of dark eggs laid around a twig of a cherry tree by a single female moth the summer before. Moths of this kind are small, hairy and brown, with an average wingspan of one and a quarter inches. The most obvious parts of this kind of moth is the dwellings the caterpillar siblings make with webbing they exude from their bodies, and the larvae themselves that get up to two inches long and are hairy with black and yellow stripes down their bodies and blue speckles.
American tent caterpillars are widespread in eastern North America, wherever cherry, apple and pear trees grow. The larvae of each communal structure emerge from it at intervals each day in April and May to consume the leaves of the fruit trees they live on, which is cherry trees for the most part. Each larvae lays down a web of silk on the twigs it travels on so it can find its way back to its sheltering nest when it is finished eating. And as they eat and grow, they add threads to their dwelling, which becomes larger and larger in just a few weeks.
Two species of American cuckoos, the yellow-billed and black-billed, specialize in eating hairy moth larvae, including tent caterpillars. Both these kinds of cuckoos are about the size of blue jays and have long, curved beaks that use to reach into caterpillar tents to pull out and consume the larvae. These cuckoos seem a bit sluggish, but they don't have to be quick to catch caterpillars.
Toward the end of May, each tent caterpillar is as large as it will get. All of them stop eating leaves and crawl away from their tent homes and across the leaf-covered ground to sheltered places under logs, bark or rocks where they can pupate in relative safety. A couple of weeks later each one emerges from its cocoon as a small, inconspicuous moth that looks for a mate, lays eggs and dies. But the next generation of tent caterpillars is in an egg mass attached to a cherry twig.
Tent caterpillar homes are conspicuous in cherry trees at this time. One can watch the caterpillars' interesting comings and goings from their shelters until they leave their tents to hide away and pupate toward the end of May.
Dandelions and Blue Violets
Today, April 21, 2016, our short-grass back yard in New Holland, Pennsylvania is beautifully full of golden dandelion flowers and the purple blossoms of flowering blue violets. And it has been that way every spring at this time. When I drive around on errands or whatever, I notice many other lawns also have innumerable dandelion and blue violet flowers, colorful bouquets of them. The innumerable yellow and blue dots on short-grass lawns make lovely color combinations in great abundance.
Many people here consider those two abundant plant species to be weeds to be eliminated from lawns. But I think those people are missing out on free beauty in abundance. And those blooms are only visible for a few weeks from about the middle of April to around mid-May, depending on the weather.
Dandelions are aliens from Europe and very invasive. They spread rapidly because each dandelion plant grows short and long flower stems. Dandelions growing on lawns that are regularly mowed can't grow seeds on long stems because those flower heads are cut off. But those dandelions still grow seeds on short stems that are not cut because they develop and go to seed below the reach of the mower blades. Our lawn is loaded with dandelions with short blossom stems.
Each seed of several on a dandelion blossom head has a parachute that carries its cargo away on the wind, spreading this species across the landscape. Seeds that land on good soil and are not eaten by mice and small, seed-eating birds will sprout into new plants.
And dandelion plants must be completely dug out of the ground to eradicate them. If any bit of the root is left in the soil, it will grow a new plant.
Dandelion leaves are edible to people, either raw in salads or steamed like spinach. Every spring many people dig up dandelions to eat. In fact, there are dandelion farms in Europe where the plants are sold in food markets. I have eaten dandelion leaves often over the years, but my main fascination with this plant species is the beauties of its green leaves, yellow flowers and the small, seed-eating birds that eat many of its numerous seeds from the flower heads during late April and into May.
Several kinds of colorful and interesting birds eat dandelion seeds on our lawns and in fields in May. Some of those birds are the permanent resident northern cardinals, yellow and black American goldfinches, pink and gray house finches and song sparrows. Migrating seed-eating birds include chipping sparrows, deep-blue indigo buntings and field sparrows.
Blue violets are native woodland wildflowers that have adapted to our lawns and today are tremendously abundant on many of them. Most violet blooms are short enough to be missed by the mowers, allowing this species to go through its life cycle unharmed. Patches of violet flowers are coolly subtle compared to the "blaring" gold of dandelion blossoms.
I annually enjoy dandelion and blue violet flowers on our lawn every spring. And I miss them when they fade away. My advice to anyone is to enjoy them, and anything, while you can.
Many people here consider those two abundant plant species to be weeds to be eliminated from lawns. But I think those people are missing out on free beauty in abundance. And those blooms are only visible for a few weeks from about the middle of April to around mid-May, depending on the weather.
Dandelions are aliens from Europe and very invasive. They spread rapidly because each dandelion plant grows short and long flower stems. Dandelions growing on lawns that are regularly mowed can't grow seeds on long stems because those flower heads are cut off. But those dandelions still grow seeds on short stems that are not cut because they develop and go to seed below the reach of the mower blades. Our lawn is loaded with dandelions with short blossom stems.
Each seed of several on a dandelion blossom head has a parachute that carries its cargo away on the wind, spreading this species across the landscape. Seeds that land on good soil and are not eaten by mice and small, seed-eating birds will sprout into new plants.
And dandelion plants must be completely dug out of the ground to eradicate them. If any bit of the root is left in the soil, it will grow a new plant.
Dandelion leaves are edible to people, either raw in salads or steamed like spinach. Every spring many people dig up dandelions to eat. In fact, there are dandelion farms in Europe where the plants are sold in food markets. I have eaten dandelion leaves often over the years, but my main fascination with this plant species is the beauties of its green leaves, yellow flowers and the small, seed-eating birds that eat many of its numerous seeds from the flower heads during late April and into May.
Several kinds of colorful and interesting birds eat dandelion seeds on our lawns and in fields in May. Some of those birds are the permanent resident northern cardinals, yellow and black American goldfinches, pink and gray house finches and song sparrows. Migrating seed-eating birds include chipping sparrows, deep-blue indigo buntings and field sparrows.
Blue violets are native woodland wildflowers that have adapted to our lawns and today are tremendously abundant on many of them. Most violet blooms are short enough to be missed by the mowers, allowing this species to go through its life cycle unharmed. Patches of violet flowers are coolly subtle compared to the "blaring" gold of dandelion blossoms.
I annually enjoy dandelion and blue violet flowers on our lawn every spring. And I miss them when they fade away. My advice to anyone is to enjoy them, and anything, while you can.
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