For at least the last eleven years, a colony of scores of rough-winged swallows have wintered at the Northeast Philadelphia Sewage Treatment Plant near the Delaware River in Philadelphia. It is the only gathering of wintering swallows in North America north of the Gulf of Mexico. All other rough-wings winter on islands and mainlands around the Caribbean Sea and the rim of the Gulf of Mexico where flying insects are abundant and available during the northern winter. That sewage treatment plant is a relatively warm habitat, a human-made mini-ecosystem in the cold of winter. I have read reports of swallows at that plant in winter, but have not been there myself. But it is intriguing to think of this unusual environment, and others like it. And it is enlightening to realize how resilient nature is.
The presence of rough-winged swallows and other kinds of small, insect-eating birds, including a few each of cave swallows, barn swallows, eastern phoebes and a few species of warblers, including palm warblers and yellow-rumped warblers, wintering at that sewage treatment plant, is based on swarms of a kind of insect called midges. Adult midges are small, two-winged flies that fly about that sewage treatment plant in swarms and are eaten by those birds in winter.
Other kinds of small birds that might winter at Philadelphia's sewage plant to eat midges are tree swallows, pine warblers, orange-crowned warblers, common yellowthroat warblers and yellow-throated warblers. A few of each one of these species already winter in the north, though most birds of each species winter in Central and/or South America.
But how can adult midges, being cold-blooded, be active and available to hungry birds in winter? That depends on the warmth of sewage in underground treatment ponds. Sewage water constantly flows from warm buildings through underground pipes to open-air sewage pools in the ground at the treatment plant. Being in the insulating soil, the sewage water stays relatively warm and is a breeding ground for the midges that live at that sewage treatment facility. As fast as the waste water cools, it is supplemented with warmer water that warms the air above it, and midges in that air.
Adult, flying midges don't eat anything. They only live three to five days and there only job is to mate so female midges can spawn thousands of egg masses on the surface of sewage water. But many adults are eaten by birds before they get to mate or spawn. Midge eggs sink into the sewage and bloodworms hatch from them. They are called bloodworms because they are red.
Each bloodworm creates a protective case around itself and joins others of its kind in red, wriggling masses on the bottoms of tanks and their walls. There those red midge larvae consume bacteria, and sewage, which is still loaded with nutrients. Both the bacteria and sewage is suspended in the water and is, therefore, available to the bloodworms. The bloodworms pupate and later emerge as adult, flying midges in great swarms that feed those insect-eating birds around Philadelphia's sewage plant in winter. Bloodworms in more natural habitats feed fish and a host of other aquatic creatures.
Bacteria that bloodworms feed on ingest sewage. We can see that new food chains developed in sewage treatment plants, which is based on human waste. Sewage feeds bacteria, which is consumed by bloodworms that emerge from the waste water as adult, flying midges, many of which are eaten by small birds, some of which are eaten by small hawks and other critters.
There are many kinds of adaptable plants and animals. Two examples of that are chimney swifts and barn swallows that hatch babies in protective niches. Chimney swifts historically nested down the inside of hollow, broken-off trees, but now raise young down the inside of chimneys, which, to them, are like hollow trees. Barn swallows originally nested on cliffs and in shallow caves, but now rear offspring in barns and under bridges, which to them, are like cliffs and caves.
The colony of rough-winged swallows that winter at Philadelphia's sewage plant might, in time, develop a new species of swallows because of their isolation from their mainstream relatives. That group of rough-wings might stay at that plant to nest, which might also contribute to their isolation.
It's inspiring to know that some forms of life are so adaptable that they survive where we wouldn't expect them to. Because of relatively warm sewage, bacteria and midges are active in winter. And swarms of midges attract wintering, insectivorous birds that are farther north, in numbers, than they ordinarily would be. These food chains in a human-made environment created an interesting mini-ecosystem.
Friday, December 30, 2016
Monday, December 26, 2016
Wintering Suburban Thrushes
At least six wintering American robins have scratched for invertebrates and seeds in loose soil under a clump of three bushes on our lawn for the last several late afternoons in December of 2016.
I've never seen robins do that before on our lawn in winter, which peaked my interest. Robins' adapting to different habitats and food sources has made them successful as a species, including in that little niche.
Robins, which are a kind of thrush, probably lived and nested in woodland clearings originally. But as European colonists cleared the forests to create fields, robin populations increased in an ever-expanding environment they were preadapted to, which led to their great success as a species.
Today robins commonly nest on suburban lawns that have shrubbery and young trees. There each female builds a mud and grass cradle in a fork of a bush or tree. But after their breeding season, robins gather in flocks, some of which go south for the winter, while others stay north, including here in southeastern Pennsylvania.
Robins wintering in the north usually live by eating crab apples and a variety of berries, including those on hawthorns, multiflora rose, barberries, bittersweet and hollies. But they also consume invertebrates when and where they can get them in winter, including digging for them with their toe nails in unfrozen ground.
A few beautiful eastern bluebirds were in our suburban neighborhood on December 10, 2016, which was an exciting first sighting of them here. In fact, I never saw bluebirds in a suburb before. They were in our neighborhood because they were eating red berries from a barberry bush against the next door neighbors' house. Eastern bluebirds, like robins, probably lived and nested in woodland openings and have adapted to and benefited from farmland, where they consume invertebrates in warmer months and berries in winter. There they nest in holes in lone trees, fence post hollows and bird boxes erected for them. And in winter, little groups of bluebirds pile into some of those same cavities to spend winter nights sharing body heat and surviving.
And just a few years ago, many wintering hermit thrushes, which is a kind of spot-breasted thrush, visited bird feeders near shrubbery throughout the United States, including one wintering hermit in our back yard. It was an interesting lone bird with its characteristic tail pumping and foot tapping. And that hermit stayed among shrubbery all winter, and scratched up invertebrates, and seeds fallen to the ground from our bird feeder in the midst of protective bushes.
Those few wintering species of the thrush family have made our lawn more exciting and memorable. Traveling to see birds is fun and exciting, but, I think, no more so than those species seen at home. And, at home, we have the advantage of studying and enjoying birds daily and more intimately.
I've never seen robins do that before on our lawn in winter, which peaked my interest. Robins' adapting to different habitats and food sources has made them successful as a species, including in that little niche.
Robins, which are a kind of thrush, probably lived and nested in woodland clearings originally. But as European colonists cleared the forests to create fields, robin populations increased in an ever-expanding environment they were preadapted to, which led to their great success as a species.
Today robins commonly nest on suburban lawns that have shrubbery and young trees. There each female builds a mud and grass cradle in a fork of a bush or tree. But after their breeding season, robins gather in flocks, some of which go south for the winter, while others stay north, including here in southeastern Pennsylvania.
Robins wintering in the north usually live by eating crab apples and a variety of berries, including those on hawthorns, multiflora rose, barberries, bittersweet and hollies. But they also consume invertebrates when and where they can get them in winter, including digging for them with their toe nails in unfrozen ground.
A few beautiful eastern bluebirds were in our suburban neighborhood on December 10, 2016, which was an exciting first sighting of them here. In fact, I never saw bluebirds in a suburb before. They were in our neighborhood because they were eating red berries from a barberry bush against the next door neighbors' house. Eastern bluebirds, like robins, probably lived and nested in woodland openings and have adapted to and benefited from farmland, where they consume invertebrates in warmer months and berries in winter. There they nest in holes in lone trees, fence post hollows and bird boxes erected for them. And in winter, little groups of bluebirds pile into some of those same cavities to spend winter nights sharing body heat and surviving.
And just a few years ago, many wintering hermit thrushes, which is a kind of spot-breasted thrush, visited bird feeders near shrubbery throughout the United States, including one wintering hermit in our back yard. It was an interesting lone bird with its characteristic tail pumping and foot tapping. And that hermit stayed among shrubbery all winter, and scratched up invertebrates, and seeds fallen to the ground from our bird feeder in the midst of protective bushes.
Those few wintering species of the thrush family have made our lawn more exciting and memorable. Traveling to see birds is fun and exciting, but, I think, no more so than those species seen at home. And, at home, we have the advantage of studying and enjoying birds daily and more intimately.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
A Mid-Winter Nature Drive
I went on a local, mid-winter nature drive for an hour on the sunny afternoon of December 20, 2016. I say mid-winter because to me December 21, the shortest day of the year, is the middle of winter and the end of the biological year, a Biological New Year's Eve. December 22, then is Biological New Year's Day. From that day on, periods of daylight each successive day get longer as the northern hemisphere begins to tilt toward the sun, heralding spring's coming north.
I drove out of New Holland, Pennsylvania on country roads for two miles, passing suburbs, farmland, a couple of streams and wood lots on the way. Those four habitats are the major ones in Lancaster County.
The first creatures I saw as I drove out of town were about 60 mallard ducks and close to that number of Canada geese in an overgrown meadow with a stream flowing through it. I must say that no matter how commonplace mallards and Canadas are, they are the most handsome and stately of waterfowl in this county.
Some of the ducks were swimming in a slow part of the waterway, while others of their gathering were feeding on weed and grass seeds from three-foot-tall, beige plants close to the water. The drakes had beautifully iridescent-green heads that shown in the in the sunlight while the female mallards were lovely in a camouflaged way in the dead and light-brown grass.
The geese were elegant with gray plumage on their bodies, and with their black-feathered rears, necks and heads, with a white chin "strap" on each side of the head. Those Canadas were grazing on short grass in a back part of that pasture.
Driving on, I saw a fairly large, female American holly tree loaded with striking red berries on a lawn. Another holly, a male, had no berries on it. But the male's pollen blew on the wind in May and fertilized the female's blooms, hence the decorative scarlet berries.
Moving on, I saw a young thicket of pretty shrubbery and trees in an abandoned meadow along the road I was on. I saw a few cranberry viburnum bushes with lots of red berries, a couple of red-twigged dogwoods complete with red twigs, and a few young white oak and pin oak trees that still had several dead leaves clinging to them. At some time in winter, American robins and other kinds of birds will eat those viburnum berries.
Here and there, along the way, I saw stately, planted Norway spruce trees and white pine trees that lend green to the gray and beige winter landscape. Many of the spruces also had decorative, beige cones on their upper limbs that have seeds that gray squirrels, mice, and American goldfinches, house finches, two kinds of chickadees and other kinds of small birds will eat during winter.
As I continued to drive through farmland, I saw a Cooper's hawk zip up into a tall, deciduous tree in a meadow where it perched to watch for birds to prey on. A pair of red-tailed hawks perched on a tall tree in a nearby pasture. I suspect those red-tails are a mated pair that may have a nest, or will build one, nearby. And in that second meadow I saw a couple of eastern bluebirds on roadside electric wires and a northern mockingbird in a big clump of multiflora rose. Both those species eat invertebrates when they can, but will turn to berries when the weather is cold and invertebrates are not available to them.
I parked by a small, weedy thicket on the edge of a woodland before returning home. The thicket was filled with tall, dead goldenrod stalks and dogbane plants. A male northern cardinal and a song sparrow were among the goldenrod, eating their seeds. A staghorn sumac tree with several pyramid-shaped clusters of fuzzy, red berries was in the little thicket. And several vines of bitterweet, each one loaded with orange berries, were strung beautifully in the trees on the edge of the clearing. White fluff, each one with a brown seed, floated out of the open pods of the dogbanes and away on the wind. Some of those seeds will find good soil in sunny places to sprout and grow.
On the two-mile trip home I saw another Cooper's hawk land on a lawn and a group of small birds perched on the top of a half-grown, deciduous tree in a pasture. Using binoculars, I looked at the congregations of birds in the tree and saw they were house finches, with several pink-breasted males. Over the years, I've noticed that house finches nest in suburbs, but are scarce there in winter. I think they may be driven out of town by gangs of house sparrows, which can be aggressive. But the house finches seem to winter in weedy hedgerows and woodland edges outside of towns during winter. That way, perhaps, they can live and feed without being harassed by house sparrows. It's interesting how nature works out many potential problems.
Though it only lasted around an hour, I enjoyed that nature trip with its magnificent trees, lovely berries and interesting birds. Readers can do the same. Just get out and look around. Most any nature excursion, no matter how long or short, can be enjoyable and inspiring. They can give many people a new lease on life.
I drove out of New Holland, Pennsylvania on country roads for two miles, passing suburbs, farmland, a couple of streams and wood lots on the way. Those four habitats are the major ones in Lancaster County.
The first creatures I saw as I drove out of town were about 60 mallard ducks and close to that number of Canada geese in an overgrown meadow with a stream flowing through it. I must say that no matter how commonplace mallards and Canadas are, they are the most handsome and stately of waterfowl in this county.
Some of the ducks were swimming in a slow part of the waterway, while others of their gathering were feeding on weed and grass seeds from three-foot-tall, beige plants close to the water. The drakes had beautifully iridescent-green heads that shown in the in the sunlight while the female mallards were lovely in a camouflaged way in the dead and light-brown grass.
The geese were elegant with gray plumage on their bodies, and with their black-feathered rears, necks and heads, with a white chin "strap" on each side of the head. Those Canadas were grazing on short grass in a back part of that pasture.
Driving on, I saw a fairly large, female American holly tree loaded with striking red berries on a lawn. Another holly, a male, had no berries on it. But the male's pollen blew on the wind in May and fertilized the female's blooms, hence the decorative scarlet berries.
Moving on, I saw a young thicket of pretty shrubbery and trees in an abandoned meadow along the road I was on. I saw a few cranberry viburnum bushes with lots of red berries, a couple of red-twigged dogwoods complete with red twigs, and a few young white oak and pin oak trees that still had several dead leaves clinging to them. At some time in winter, American robins and other kinds of birds will eat those viburnum berries.
Here and there, along the way, I saw stately, planted Norway spruce trees and white pine trees that lend green to the gray and beige winter landscape. Many of the spruces also had decorative, beige cones on their upper limbs that have seeds that gray squirrels, mice, and American goldfinches, house finches, two kinds of chickadees and other kinds of small birds will eat during winter.
As I continued to drive through farmland, I saw a Cooper's hawk zip up into a tall, deciduous tree in a meadow where it perched to watch for birds to prey on. A pair of red-tailed hawks perched on a tall tree in a nearby pasture. I suspect those red-tails are a mated pair that may have a nest, or will build one, nearby. And in that second meadow I saw a couple of eastern bluebirds on roadside electric wires and a northern mockingbird in a big clump of multiflora rose. Both those species eat invertebrates when they can, but will turn to berries when the weather is cold and invertebrates are not available to them.
I parked by a small, weedy thicket on the edge of a woodland before returning home. The thicket was filled with tall, dead goldenrod stalks and dogbane plants. A male northern cardinal and a song sparrow were among the goldenrod, eating their seeds. A staghorn sumac tree with several pyramid-shaped clusters of fuzzy, red berries was in the little thicket. And several vines of bitterweet, each one loaded with orange berries, were strung beautifully in the trees on the edge of the clearing. White fluff, each one with a brown seed, floated out of the open pods of the dogbanes and away on the wind. Some of those seeds will find good soil in sunny places to sprout and grow.
On the two-mile trip home I saw another Cooper's hawk land on a lawn and a group of small birds perched on the top of a half-grown, deciduous tree in a pasture. Using binoculars, I looked at the congregations of birds in the tree and saw they were house finches, with several pink-breasted males. Over the years, I've noticed that house finches nest in suburbs, but are scarce there in winter. I think they may be driven out of town by gangs of house sparrows, which can be aggressive. But the house finches seem to winter in weedy hedgerows and woodland edges outside of towns during winter. That way, perhaps, they can live and feed without being harassed by house sparrows. It's interesting how nature works out many potential problems.
Though it only lasted around an hour, I enjoyed that nature trip with its magnificent trees, lovely berries and interesting birds. Readers can do the same. Just get out and look around. Most any nature excursion, no matter how long or short, can be enjoyable and inspiring. They can give many people a new lease on life.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Nesting Mill Creek Waterfowl
One day this past November, I made three stops along Mill Creek in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland to enjoy scenery and wildlife. Among other kinds of birds spotted along that waterway, I saw a flock of Canada geese, a smaller group of mallard ducks and a few wood ducks at one place, a gathering of gray-lag geese at another stretch of creek, a pair of mute swans near the gray-lags and at least a few muscovy ducks at each of those spots along the creek. The first three species of waterfowl are native and wild, but the latter three are domestic birds gone feral and living and nesting along Mill Creek. In fact, all six of those waterfowl species raise young along Mill Creek, as they do along other waterways in this county, and all are permanent residents here, except woodies which migrate south for the winter.
All these species of waterfowl, both wild and domestic, are built like boats were easy floating and swimming on water. And they have beauties and intrigues, which add the same to the waterways and impoundments they live along. And one has to admire and respect the feral birds as much as the wild ones because they are on their own and risk being caught by predators. The feral species are just as vulnerable to predators as wild birds are simply because they nest in the wild. The eggs and small young of all these kinds of waterfowl are subject to being preyed on by mink, raccoons, great blue herons, hawks and other kinds of predators.
The young of all these related waterfowl species, and other kinds in their extended family produce young that are fully fuzzed, open-eyed and alert, and able to get their own food upon hatching. They also have webbed feet for easy swimming.
Canada geese and mallards hatch young in grassy nurseries on the ground near water. Each pair of geese and mallard hens brood their young, lead them to food and warn them of danger. Canadas also protect their young from predators.
Pairs of wood ducks return to the north early in March and almost immediately look for unused hollows in tall trees, or empty nesting boxes erected especially for woodies, along creeks and impoundments. And when the ducklings hatch in those cavities in May, they use their toe nails to crawl up the inside of them and jump out the entrances to the water or ground below. Each mother leads her brood to invertebrate food.
The pompous gray-lag geese are originally from Europe where they nest in the wild. Long ago, some of their population was domesticated and European pioneers brought gray-lags to American colonies to be raised for meat and eggs. Gray-lags, like many kinds of geese, ingest grass and other plant material, both on land and in water. And some feral pairs of these geese in local cropland hatch up to six young in a brood in grassy nurseries along waterways and impoundments, just as though they are wild. And those wild-living pairs raise as many goslings as they can.
Mute swans are large, elegant birds originally from Europe where they are wild birds. Pairs of these stately swans were brought to America to be placed as ornamental birds on ponds in estates and parks, and on farms. There many pairs annually raised up to six cygnets in a brood over the years and many of those young birds escaped captivity. Today thousands of feral mute swans live on larger waters in Delaware, Maryland, New York State and New England.
Lancaster County has several pairs of domestic mute swans that raise young on ponds, and other, feral pairs that rear offspring along creeks. Some of those young swans escape captivity and make a living in the wild.
Both parents of each pair of mute swans is aggressive in defending its cygnets against predators. And many pairs of mutes drive away Canada geese, which they consider to be competition for space and food. Male mutes are particularly aggressive. They hold their wings up to be more intimidating while swimming in strong spurts in a threatening manner toward their foe.
Muscovy ducks are from South America and were domesticated for meat and eggs, the reason they were brought to North America. Wild muscovies are large and black with white trim, but many domesticated ones today have pure white feathering or any pattern of black and white. Drakes are a little over twice as large as hens, and each muscovy has a partly-naked, red head, with males having much more red skin on their heads than females do.
Interestingly, some feral muscovy hens in Lancaster County farmland start hatching young late in summer, and even in autumn, on their own along creeks and ponds. This may be in response to the sun "slipping" south then, triggering muscovies that were adapted to living in the Southern Hemisphere to nest. The sun "going" south indicates spring in the Southern Hemisphere. But other muscovy hens apparently adapted to the Northern Hemisphere because they start nesting in May.
All these species of waterfowl, both native and feral, nest along Mill Creek, as they do along other waterways and impoundments. And there both the wild and domestic birds are interesting to watch conducting their life cycles in Lancaster County's agricultural areas. Some day, the feral species may be totally wild in North America.
All these species of waterfowl, both wild and domestic, are built like boats were easy floating and swimming on water. And they have beauties and intrigues, which add the same to the waterways and impoundments they live along. And one has to admire and respect the feral birds as much as the wild ones because they are on their own and risk being caught by predators. The feral species are just as vulnerable to predators as wild birds are simply because they nest in the wild. The eggs and small young of all these kinds of waterfowl are subject to being preyed on by mink, raccoons, great blue herons, hawks and other kinds of predators.
The young of all these related waterfowl species, and other kinds in their extended family produce young that are fully fuzzed, open-eyed and alert, and able to get their own food upon hatching. They also have webbed feet for easy swimming.
Canada geese and mallards hatch young in grassy nurseries on the ground near water. Each pair of geese and mallard hens brood their young, lead them to food and warn them of danger. Canadas also protect their young from predators.
Pairs of wood ducks return to the north early in March and almost immediately look for unused hollows in tall trees, or empty nesting boxes erected especially for woodies, along creeks and impoundments. And when the ducklings hatch in those cavities in May, they use their toe nails to crawl up the inside of them and jump out the entrances to the water or ground below. Each mother leads her brood to invertebrate food.
The pompous gray-lag geese are originally from Europe where they nest in the wild. Long ago, some of their population was domesticated and European pioneers brought gray-lags to American colonies to be raised for meat and eggs. Gray-lags, like many kinds of geese, ingest grass and other plant material, both on land and in water. And some feral pairs of these geese in local cropland hatch up to six young in a brood in grassy nurseries along waterways and impoundments, just as though they are wild. And those wild-living pairs raise as many goslings as they can.
Mute swans are large, elegant birds originally from Europe where they are wild birds. Pairs of these stately swans were brought to America to be placed as ornamental birds on ponds in estates and parks, and on farms. There many pairs annually raised up to six cygnets in a brood over the years and many of those young birds escaped captivity. Today thousands of feral mute swans live on larger waters in Delaware, Maryland, New York State and New England.
Lancaster County has several pairs of domestic mute swans that raise young on ponds, and other, feral pairs that rear offspring along creeks. Some of those young swans escape captivity and make a living in the wild.
Both parents of each pair of mute swans is aggressive in defending its cygnets against predators. And many pairs of mutes drive away Canada geese, which they consider to be competition for space and food. Male mutes are particularly aggressive. They hold their wings up to be more intimidating while swimming in strong spurts in a threatening manner toward their foe.
Muscovy ducks are from South America and were domesticated for meat and eggs, the reason they were brought to North America. Wild muscovies are large and black with white trim, but many domesticated ones today have pure white feathering or any pattern of black and white. Drakes are a little over twice as large as hens, and each muscovy has a partly-naked, red head, with males having much more red skin on their heads than females do.
Interestingly, some feral muscovy hens in Lancaster County farmland start hatching young late in summer, and even in autumn, on their own along creeks and ponds. This may be in response to the sun "slipping" south then, triggering muscovies that were adapted to living in the Southern Hemisphere to nest. The sun "going" south indicates spring in the Southern Hemisphere. But other muscovy hens apparently adapted to the Northern Hemisphere because they start nesting in May.
All these species of waterfowl, both native and feral, nest along Mill Creek, as they do along other waterways and impoundments. And there both the wild and domestic birds are interesting to watch conducting their life cycles in Lancaster County's agricultural areas. Some day, the feral species may be totally wild in North America.
Thursday, December 15, 2016
Landfill Wildlife
On December 12, 2016, I drove to a landfill near Morgantown, Berks County, Pennsylvania that I have known about for years to see what birds were in and around it. Land just north of Morgantown has woodlands, human-made impoundments, overgrown fields and hedgerow thickets between those fields that feed and shelter adaptable wildlife in that area. But it also contains expressways and their accesses and cloverleafs, state roads, corporate centers, other businesses and the landfill.
As I approached the landfill, a blizzard of thousands of ring-billed gulls lifted off it, circled it a few times, then settled into it again like a snowfall of giant flakes. A minute later a great, dark swarm of starlings rose from the landfill and created several pictures in the sky as the flock abruptly turned this way and that. Then they, too, settled back into the landfill, on the fence surrounding it and on nearby tall trees. No doubt, ring-bills and starlings are at that landfill all day, every day, in winter to ingest edible garbage brought in by a parade of trash trucks. The gulls spend winter nights bobbing on local impoundments, while starlings find shelter in groves of coniferous trees or among buildings in cities and towns.
I was outside that landfill for a couple of hours on December 12 and saw many of the ring-bills and starlings there take flight in great flocks at frequent intervals. And each exodus by one or the other of those species is exciting, inspiring and entertaining to see. The gulls are adapted to open, human-made habitats because they evolved on beaches and salt marshes where their great flocks can form. When not in flight or eating, ring-bills in the landfill stood in white and pale-gray masses on its floor, as they congregate on beaches and flats. And those gulls standing on landfill soil were undisturbed by the big trash trucks that drove close to them. Starlings have adapted to most every human-made habitat, including this dumping area, much to their benefit as a species. Adaptable species of any kind have a future.
Sprinklings of wintering American crows, turkey vultures and black vultures are also adaptable, abundant scavengers, like the ring-bills and starlings. The crows and vultures daily come to this landfill to consume edible garbage through the winter, but not in great congregations. Turkey vultures soar, with wing tips uplifted, into the wind and down on the landfill with little expenditure of energy. Black vultures sail down with intermittent series of rapid wing beats and soaring. The vultures spend winter nights in the tops of trees in wooded valleys that break the force of cold winds to an extent.
Like the surrounding countryside, the sloping edges of the landfill are covered by thickets of young trees of various kinds, including several red junipers and stag-horned sumacs, shrubbery such as multiflora rose and Tartarian honeysuckle, bittersweet vines and tall weeds and grass, including goldenrod and foxtail grass. All these plants hold down the soil and provide food and cover for adaptable wildlife. During the short time I was watching the landfill for the larger, flock birds, I saw northern cardinals, song sparrows and white-throated sparrows eating seeds from weeds and grasses. And I saw a flock of American robins ingesting the fuzzy, red berries of a long line of staghorn sumac trees. A sharp-shinned hawk was present near where I sat as that little hawk watched for small birds to catch and consume. And I saw a few red-tailed hawks along the landfill slopes as they looked for mice to snare and ingest.
As each section of the dumping area fills with trash, soil is pushed over it and planted to grass seed. The seeds of other plants blow in on the wind, or are carried in bird droppings to those grass-planted spots. Eventually a variety of vegetation will fill those once bare-ground places, hold down the soil and feed and shelter a variety of adaptable wildlife. What were once open sores on the landscape are reclaimed by plants and wild animals that make the countryside lovely again.
Landfills, including this one, don't have to be wounds on the land, with proper management. After trash is buried by soil, plants can be planted or allowed to take hold on their own. That vegetation will be attractive to certain kinds of adaptable wildlife that will make a home in its embrace, and raise young there as well.
As I approached the landfill, a blizzard of thousands of ring-billed gulls lifted off it, circled it a few times, then settled into it again like a snowfall of giant flakes. A minute later a great, dark swarm of starlings rose from the landfill and created several pictures in the sky as the flock abruptly turned this way and that. Then they, too, settled back into the landfill, on the fence surrounding it and on nearby tall trees. No doubt, ring-bills and starlings are at that landfill all day, every day, in winter to ingest edible garbage brought in by a parade of trash trucks. The gulls spend winter nights bobbing on local impoundments, while starlings find shelter in groves of coniferous trees or among buildings in cities and towns.
I was outside that landfill for a couple of hours on December 12 and saw many of the ring-bills and starlings there take flight in great flocks at frequent intervals. And each exodus by one or the other of those species is exciting, inspiring and entertaining to see. The gulls are adapted to open, human-made habitats because they evolved on beaches and salt marshes where their great flocks can form. When not in flight or eating, ring-bills in the landfill stood in white and pale-gray masses on its floor, as they congregate on beaches and flats. And those gulls standing on landfill soil were undisturbed by the big trash trucks that drove close to them. Starlings have adapted to most every human-made habitat, including this dumping area, much to their benefit as a species. Adaptable species of any kind have a future.
Sprinklings of wintering American crows, turkey vultures and black vultures are also adaptable, abundant scavengers, like the ring-bills and starlings. The crows and vultures daily come to this landfill to consume edible garbage through the winter, but not in great congregations. Turkey vultures soar, with wing tips uplifted, into the wind and down on the landfill with little expenditure of energy. Black vultures sail down with intermittent series of rapid wing beats and soaring. The vultures spend winter nights in the tops of trees in wooded valleys that break the force of cold winds to an extent.
Like the surrounding countryside, the sloping edges of the landfill are covered by thickets of young trees of various kinds, including several red junipers and stag-horned sumacs, shrubbery such as multiflora rose and Tartarian honeysuckle, bittersweet vines and tall weeds and grass, including goldenrod and foxtail grass. All these plants hold down the soil and provide food and cover for adaptable wildlife. During the short time I was watching the landfill for the larger, flock birds, I saw northern cardinals, song sparrows and white-throated sparrows eating seeds from weeds and grasses. And I saw a flock of American robins ingesting the fuzzy, red berries of a long line of staghorn sumac trees. A sharp-shinned hawk was present near where I sat as that little hawk watched for small birds to catch and consume. And I saw a few red-tailed hawks along the landfill slopes as they looked for mice to snare and ingest.
As each section of the dumping area fills with trash, soil is pushed over it and planted to grass seed. The seeds of other plants blow in on the wind, or are carried in bird droppings to those grass-planted spots. Eventually a variety of vegetation will fill those once bare-ground places, hold down the soil and feed and shelter a variety of adaptable wildlife. What were once open sores on the landscape are reclaimed by plants and wild animals that make the countryside lovely again.
Landfills, including this one, don't have to be wounds on the land, with proper management. After trash is buried by soil, plants can be planted or allowed to take hold on their own. That vegetation will be attractive to certain kinds of adaptable wildlife that will make a home in its embrace, and raise young there as well.
Monday, December 12, 2016
Expressway Plants in Winter
Early in December of 2016, I was driving about 60 miles per hour along an expressway in southeastern Pennsylvania and noticed, as I always do, various picturesque and interesting plants on the ditched and sloped edges of the highway. But this time I made a list of the more adaptable and outstanding plant species, vegetation with some beauty and intrigue in winter, and are also helpful to wildlife along major highways with deep shoulders.
Grass that is occasionally mowed and lines of successional trees dominate those broad roadsides, and hold down their soil against erosion during heavy rains. Occasional flocks of Canada geese graze, here and there, on the short grass through winter. And little groups or singles of white-tailed deer nibble twigs and buds on the trees.
Most of the roadside ditches and low spots are dominated by attractive cattails and phragmites, both of which are wetland plants. The main beauties of these two plants are there seed heads. The multitudes on cattail stands look like fat, brown hot dogs, while dense patches of them on phragmites are like downy plumes of beige, which are most lovely when sunlight shines behind them.
Seeds of cattails and phragmites blow all around, but only those that land in at least moist soil grow into plants. Cattails and phragmites also spread from runners in damp soil.
These decorative species of bottomland plants provide food and shelter to a limited number of wildlife species. Song sparrows and marsh wrens live and nest among them. And muskrats feed on cattail roots and use the leaves of that species to build homes in the middle of larger puddles of standing water along expressways, as well as in ponds and cattail marshes.
Many red juniper and stag-horned sumac trees, Tartarian honeysuckle bushes, and bittersweet vines, all on higher ground, bear fruits in winter that are not only attractive, but are food for a variety of birds and small mammals, including northern mockingbirds, American robins, starlings and mice. Juniper "berries" are actually small, light-blue cones with barely visible scale edges. All these plants are spread by seeds in the droppings of birds that eat the fruits, digest their pulp, but don't digest all the seeds. Gangs of starlings ingest a lot of berries and spread them over the countryside in their travels. And since roadside shoulders don't get plowed, or even mowed much, these plants have a good chance of sprouting and growing to maturity.
The seed heads and stems of teasel, goldenrod, fox-tail grass and broom grass are about three feet tall, attractive and abundant along many stretches of expressways. The seeds of these plants are scattered by blowing on the wind. The dark-brown heads of teasel are prickly and were used by medieval Europeans to tease out wool. The stems and seed heads of the rest of the plants are beige, and most lovely when sun lighted from behind.
American goldfinches, house finches, dark-eyed juncos and mice are some of the little critters that consume the seeds of these species of vegetation. Some of the mice, in turn are caught and eaten by majestic red-tailed hawks and pretty American kestrels, which is also a kind of hawk. Kestrels hover into the wind to watch the ground for prey.
The vegetated shoulders of expressways are prettier and more interesting than is usually thought. Watch for the adaptable plants and animals that are readily seen while RIDING, not driving, along those major highways.
Grass that is occasionally mowed and lines of successional trees dominate those broad roadsides, and hold down their soil against erosion during heavy rains. Occasional flocks of Canada geese graze, here and there, on the short grass through winter. And little groups or singles of white-tailed deer nibble twigs and buds on the trees.
Most of the roadside ditches and low spots are dominated by attractive cattails and phragmites, both of which are wetland plants. The main beauties of these two plants are there seed heads. The multitudes on cattail stands look like fat, brown hot dogs, while dense patches of them on phragmites are like downy plumes of beige, which are most lovely when sunlight shines behind them.
Seeds of cattails and phragmites blow all around, but only those that land in at least moist soil grow into plants. Cattails and phragmites also spread from runners in damp soil.
These decorative species of bottomland plants provide food and shelter to a limited number of wildlife species. Song sparrows and marsh wrens live and nest among them. And muskrats feed on cattail roots and use the leaves of that species to build homes in the middle of larger puddles of standing water along expressways, as well as in ponds and cattail marshes.
Many red juniper and stag-horned sumac trees, Tartarian honeysuckle bushes, and bittersweet vines, all on higher ground, bear fruits in winter that are not only attractive, but are food for a variety of birds and small mammals, including northern mockingbirds, American robins, starlings and mice. Juniper "berries" are actually small, light-blue cones with barely visible scale edges. All these plants are spread by seeds in the droppings of birds that eat the fruits, digest their pulp, but don't digest all the seeds. Gangs of starlings ingest a lot of berries and spread them over the countryside in their travels. And since roadside shoulders don't get plowed, or even mowed much, these plants have a good chance of sprouting and growing to maturity.
The seed heads and stems of teasel, goldenrod, fox-tail grass and broom grass are about three feet tall, attractive and abundant along many stretches of expressways. The seeds of these plants are scattered by blowing on the wind. The dark-brown heads of teasel are prickly and were used by medieval Europeans to tease out wool. The stems and seed heads of the rest of the plants are beige, and most lovely when sun lighted from behind.
American goldfinches, house finches, dark-eyed juncos and mice are some of the little critters that consume the seeds of these species of vegetation. Some of the mice, in turn are caught and eaten by majestic red-tailed hawks and pretty American kestrels, which is also a kind of hawk. Kestrels hover into the wind to watch the ground for prey.
The vegetated shoulders of expressways are prettier and more interesting than is usually thought. Watch for the adaptable plants and animals that are readily seen while RIDING, not driving, along those major highways.
Saturday, December 10, 2016
Feathered Dramas on a Lake
On December 9 of this year, I went to a large, human-made impoundment in southeastern Pennsylvania to see what water birds would be active and visible. The lake was surrounded by deciduous woods and has a wooded island in the middle of it.
The first water bird I saw, soon after arriving at the lake, was a ponderous, immature bald eagle that was soaring in the gusty wind over the lake. It also swooped gracefully low to the water occasionally, as if about to snare a fish, but then swept upward without making a catch.
While watching the eagle, I saw a fast-moving line of ducks powering low over the impoundment with the wind, circle into it and land in the middle of the lake, in a line stretched across the wind-driven water. Studying those ducks with my 16 power binoculars, I saw they were 21 buffleheads. The genders were equal in number. And once on the water, the buffleheads stayed there resting during the hour and a half I was along the lake.
Soon after seeing the buffleheads, I noticed a great blue heron flying majestically low across the lake. It might have been looking for another fishing spot along the gravelly shoreline.
For a while I saw only the heaving water, blue sky billowed with gray clouds and the grayish-brown, deciduous woods, spotted with green juniper and white pine trees. Then a few ring-billed gulls arrived over the lake, followed by more and still more. One minute there were no gulls to be seen, and the next minute they seemed to be everywhere in the sky, gliding round and round. The ring-bills coasted and circled on outstretched wings, and seemed to play in the wind. All the while more gulls flew to the lake, probably from nearby fields and parking lots where they were looking for food. Some of the gulls landed into the wind on the waves and white caps of the impoundment while others continued to swirl over the lake. The gulls landed into the wind for better flight control. Meanwhile, more and more gulls came to the lake from wherever they were. And many more of the airborne gulls dropped to the rafts of bobbing gulls forming on the tossing water. Little by little, more gulls flew to the lake and more of them landed in the white and pale-gray rafts of their species the rest of the time I was along the water until there was at least a few hundred of them bouncing on the impoundment.
As I scanned the hundreds of gulls on the water, I noticed that most of them were ring-bills as stated earlier. But I also saw that there were a couple dozen herring gulls in those ring-bill rafts. All gulls of both species were obviously rocking and resting on the restless water.
Ring-billed gulls have been numerous inland for many years. And I think they have attracted other kinds of gulls, in more recent years, to winter inland as well, including herring, great black-backed and lesser black-backed gulls, all of which can be spotted on inland impoundments in winter.
While the gulls were putting on quite a show, a few noisy flocks of Canada geese flew in V's over the lake at intervals. They probably were going to feeding fields of waste corn kernels or winter rye.
Their gatherings are always exciting to hear and see.
Suddenly, all the gulls lifted off the water at once, forming a blizzard of birds, and swirled away. Knowing that bald eagles can make flocks of gulls fly away in panic, I scanned the sky for an eagle or two and saw the same immature bald in the sky close to where the gulls were on the water. Within seconds the lake was empty of gulls except one. I looked at it with my field glasses and noticed it was floating on its back with its legs weakly kicking the air. Although I didn't see it happen, the eagle must have attacked that gull, badly wounding it.
The eagle swooped down to the gull a few times, but didn't pick it off the water. Then it soared out of sight. But, after several minutes, the eagle swept down to the now-dead gull, lifted its victim off the water with its sharp, curved talons and flew away with it to a wooded shoreline to, presumably, eat its prey.
There weren't many kinds of water birds seen around that impoundment that day, but each species seen presented an interesting show. A person can't know what life is around any given habitat until he or she looks for it. But every species seen is intriguing.
The first water bird I saw, soon after arriving at the lake, was a ponderous, immature bald eagle that was soaring in the gusty wind over the lake. It also swooped gracefully low to the water occasionally, as if about to snare a fish, but then swept upward without making a catch.
While watching the eagle, I saw a fast-moving line of ducks powering low over the impoundment with the wind, circle into it and land in the middle of the lake, in a line stretched across the wind-driven water. Studying those ducks with my 16 power binoculars, I saw they were 21 buffleheads. The genders were equal in number. And once on the water, the buffleheads stayed there resting during the hour and a half I was along the lake.
Soon after seeing the buffleheads, I noticed a great blue heron flying majestically low across the lake. It might have been looking for another fishing spot along the gravelly shoreline.
For a while I saw only the heaving water, blue sky billowed with gray clouds and the grayish-brown, deciduous woods, spotted with green juniper and white pine trees. Then a few ring-billed gulls arrived over the lake, followed by more and still more. One minute there were no gulls to be seen, and the next minute they seemed to be everywhere in the sky, gliding round and round. The ring-bills coasted and circled on outstretched wings, and seemed to play in the wind. All the while more gulls flew to the lake, probably from nearby fields and parking lots where they were looking for food. Some of the gulls landed into the wind on the waves and white caps of the impoundment while others continued to swirl over the lake. The gulls landed into the wind for better flight control. Meanwhile, more and more gulls came to the lake from wherever they were. And many more of the airborne gulls dropped to the rafts of bobbing gulls forming on the tossing water. Little by little, more gulls flew to the lake and more of them landed in the white and pale-gray rafts of their species the rest of the time I was along the water until there was at least a few hundred of them bouncing on the impoundment.
As I scanned the hundreds of gulls on the water, I noticed that most of them were ring-bills as stated earlier. But I also saw that there were a couple dozen herring gulls in those ring-bill rafts. All gulls of both species were obviously rocking and resting on the restless water.
Ring-billed gulls have been numerous inland for many years. And I think they have attracted other kinds of gulls, in more recent years, to winter inland as well, including herring, great black-backed and lesser black-backed gulls, all of which can be spotted on inland impoundments in winter.
While the gulls were putting on quite a show, a few noisy flocks of Canada geese flew in V's over the lake at intervals. They probably were going to feeding fields of waste corn kernels or winter rye.
Their gatherings are always exciting to hear and see.
Suddenly, all the gulls lifted off the water at once, forming a blizzard of birds, and swirled away. Knowing that bald eagles can make flocks of gulls fly away in panic, I scanned the sky for an eagle or two and saw the same immature bald in the sky close to where the gulls were on the water. Within seconds the lake was empty of gulls except one. I looked at it with my field glasses and noticed it was floating on its back with its legs weakly kicking the air. Although I didn't see it happen, the eagle must have attacked that gull, badly wounding it.
The eagle swooped down to the gull a few times, but didn't pick it off the water. Then it soared out of sight. But, after several minutes, the eagle swept down to the now-dead gull, lifted its victim off the water with its sharp, curved talons and flew away with it to a wooded shoreline to, presumably, eat its prey.
There weren't many kinds of water birds seen around that impoundment that day, but each species seen presented an interesting show. A person can't know what life is around any given habitat until he or she looks for it. But every species seen is intriguing.
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