Today, March 16, 2019, I drove through a small bottomland woods, bisected by a stream lined on both sides by crack willow trees, in an area about 30 minutes from home in New Holland, Pennsylvania. A cold wind roared through and swayed the trees in that hundred-acre, deciduous woodland, but the sky was blue with several puffy, white cumulus clouds.
I stopped by a stream in that bottomland woods and heard several male wood frogs croaking hoarsely in shallow puddles of snow melt and recent rain near that waterway. The rain the night before and the warmer weather of yesterday and a few days before that awoke those frogs that immediately hopped over the rain-soaked leaf cover to those puddles to croak and draw females of their kind there to spawn during the next few days. The pools, dotted with several skunk cabbage hoods and small, but developing, leaves, were soaked in warming sunlight, which helped the cold-blooded frogs have the vigor to croak, and spawn thousands of eggs in gelatin masses of scores of eggs in each one.
I thought perhaps some spotted salamanders were also spawning in those pools. Wood frogs and spotted salamanders share woodland floor habitats and spawning pools. But I didn't want to disturb the frogs there, so I didn't look for salamanders.
As I listened to the wood frogs, I was excited to see a male mink furtively darting here and there along the stream and disappearing among tangles of weeds and fallen limbs. He probably was looking for a mate or two. Although mink seem plentiful here in southeastern Pennsylvania, they are not a species ones sees everyday.
A short time later, a pair of beautiful wood ducks landed on a slow-moving stretch of the stream and swam to sheltering limbs hanging over and in the streamside. They probably were searching among the big white oak and American beech trees up the shallow slope from the waterway for a suitable nesting cavity the hen woody will use to lay her clutch of 12 or more eggs.
When the ducklings hatch about mid-May, they will crawl up the inside of that tree hollow and jump out the entrance, one at a time. Each duckling will bounce on the dead-leaf covered ground. And when all are gathered, their mother will take them to the stream and the shallow edges of the impoundment that waterway flows into. There the ducklings will feast on a variety of invertebrates and grow fast, becoming full grown by the end of summer.
I hoped I would see a pair of hooded mergansers along that same waterway because I know wood ducks and hooded mergansers share nesting habitats and both species hatch young in tree cavities near water. Adults of each species has a different food supply, however, making the two species more compatible in the same habitats. Adult woodies feed mostly on greens, seeds and nuts while mature hoodies consume small fish they catch with their narrow, serrated beaks.
As I continued to watch for other kinds of wildlife in this narrow, wooded bottomland, I thought this would be a place to watch for courting American woodcocks at sunset during March and April evenings. Woodcocks are a type of inland sandpiper that inhabits woodland floors in the eastern United States. Each male at dusk performs a courtship display to attract females of his kind to him for mating.
At dusk, evening after evening in spring, each male flies from his daytime roost on a bottomland woods floor to a little patch of bare ground in a nearby clearing. There he vocally "beeps" for about a minute, then spirals up in flight with his wings twittering. Somewhere in the sky he levels off and vocally utters several musical notes. Then he plummets to his bare spot on the ground to start his display again and again. Only hunger or interested females interrupt his displays.
At night, woodcocks poke their long beaks into soft, moist soil of bottomland woods to pull out and ingest earthworms and other invertebrates. But they rest well camouflaged on carpets of dead leaves during the day.
My little adventure on a typical March day in that wooded bottomland was quite enjoyable and inspiring. But then, most any day outdoors is enjoyable and inspiring.
Saturday, March 16, 2019
Saturday, March 9, 2019
Wildlife Feeders
This winter, 2018-2019, I enjoyed "visiting" four sets of wildlife feeders at different locations through our home computer. The feeders are at Akron, Ohio, outside Ithica, New York, Ontario in Canada and outside Salem, Iowa. At least one camera at each group of feeders focuses on the various birds and mammals that come to the feeders daily to dine. Through those cameras and our computer screen, it's like sitting in the comfort of a mobile home and watching the wildlife through a picture window.
Feeders at Akron are in a lawn at the edge of woody thickets, and wetlands filled with phragmites. Swarms of house sparrows often dominate those feeders with their numbers. Other kinds of birds there include several northern cardinals, blue jays, mourning doves and white-throated sparrows. And several each of American crows, red-winged blackbirds, common grackles and starlings come to those feeders.
Woodland birds come to those feeders as well, including black-capped chickadees, tufted titmice, downy, hairy and red-bellied woodpeckers, and white-breasted nuthatches. These birds emerge from nearby deciduous thickets.
Once an adult red-shouldered hawk swooped onto one of the feeders, scattering all diners in fear. That raptor probably was looking for an easy meal of a bird or squirrel.
A couple species of mammals are there regularly, including cottontail rabbits and gray squirrels. There is, also, a black squirrel there, which is a color phase of gray squirrels.
Feeders near Ithica are bordered by woods, lawns and a pond. Groups of northern cardinals, blue jays, mourning doves, American goldfinches and dark-eyed juncos are, daily, the most common birds at these feeders.
Individual black-capped chickadees, tufted titmice, white-breasted nuthatches and downy, hairy and red-bellied woodpeckers come out of the woods to feed at these feeders. These species add a bit of variety to the flocks of birds at the feeders.
At least a few tree sparrows were at this set of bird feeders, adding a bit of novelty to them. Tree sparrows nest between the boreal forests and tundra of Canada and Alaska.
And a few kinds of mammals are present at the feeders, including cottontail rabbits, gray squirrels and red squirrels. Red squirrels are a distinct type of northern squirrels.
Feeders north of Lake Superior in Ontario are in someone's yard near lakes, wetlands and mixed deciduous and coniferous forests. Black-capped chickadees, red-breasted nuthatches, blue jays and hairy woodpeckers come to those feeders. And there are other species of birds there that either I've never seen at feeders or usually don't come south for the winter. Some winter finches are there, including beautiful evening grosbeaks, pine grosbeaks, common redpolls and pine siskins. And a raven, ruffed grouse and a few gray jays also came to those feeders. Those feeders are far enough north to have birds we in Pennsylvania don't normally see at feeders, or at all this far south.
But my favorite wildlife feeder is a hopper full of corn in a deciduous woodlot outside Salem, Iowa. An interesting variety of birds and mammals visit that hopper day and night. We can see the night critters because of infrared lighting.
Sometimes 20 white-tailed deer at once feed from that open hopper of corn. The deer often are quarrelsome, lifting up on back legs and striking at each other with front legs, but without bloodshed. They are always alert and quick to flee at any slight disturbance. Some deer limp from leg injuries and might be eliminated by coyotes in the area. One viewer posted that three coyotes were chasing a deer.
Several each of gray squirrels and fox squirrels come to the corn to feed during the day. Fox squirrels are larger and chunkier that the grays, and, perhaps, a bit more stately.
Never in my life have I seen so many red-headed woodpeckers as at this corn feeder. We have them here in Pennsylvania, but not so many as outside Salem, Iowa. There may be as many as five or six beautiful red-heads at that feeder at once, and they are constantly coming and going. That striking kind of woodpecker must be doing well in the American mid-west where the species originated.
Several kinds of birds visit this hopper during the day, including red-bellied woodpeckers, wild turkeys, American crows, mourning doves, blue jays, northern cardinals, white-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos. These pretty, active birds, and other kinds, no doubt, liven the corn hopper each day through winter.
A few kinds of mammals come to the corn hopper at night. Viewers can see them clearly, plus their eye shine of reflected light. Up to a dozen raccoons are the most interesting of these. They crawl into the hopper and eat corn kernels until they are full. The coons and deer don't seem to be afraid of each other. Sometimes a cottontail or an opossum also come to the feeder.
But what appears to be deer mice also come to the hopper to get kernels off the ground; one kernel at a time per mouse. I see the eye shine of the mice and then the little critters themselves as they scurry across the ground. The coons chase the mice, if they see them. But I don't know if the raccoons catch any mice to eat or not.
Though it's not usually necessary to feed wildlife, feeders are interesting to watch. I have enjoyed them in these far-flung lands. And we more easily learn what creatures are in any given area.
Feeders at Akron are in a lawn at the edge of woody thickets, and wetlands filled with phragmites. Swarms of house sparrows often dominate those feeders with their numbers. Other kinds of birds there include several northern cardinals, blue jays, mourning doves and white-throated sparrows. And several each of American crows, red-winged blackbirds, common grackles and starlings come to those feeders.
Woodland birds come to those feeders as well, including black-capped chickadees, tufted titmice, downy, hairy and red-bellied woodpeckers, and white-breasted nuthatches. These birds emerge from nearby deciduous thickets.
Once an adult red-shouldered hawk swooped onto one of the feeders, scattering all diners in fear. That raptor probably was looking for an easy meal of a bird or squirrel.
A couple species of mammals are there regularly, including cottontail rabbits and gray squirrels. There is, also, a black squirrel there, which is a color phase of gray squirrels.
Feeders near Ithica are bordered by woods, lawns and a pond. Groups of northern cardinals, blue jays, mourning doves, American goldfinches and dark-eyed juncos are, daily, the most common birds at these feeders.
Individual black-capped chickadees, tufted titmice, white-breasted nuthatches and downy, hairy and red-bellied woodpeckers come out of the woods to feed at these feeders. These species add a bit of variety to the flocks of birds at the feeders.
At least a few tree sparrows were at this set of bird feeders, adding a bit of novelty to them. Tree sparrows nest between the boreal forests and tundra of Canada and Alaska.
And a few kinds of mammals are present at the feeders, including cottontail rabbits, gray squirrels and red squirrels. Red squirrels are a distinct type of northern squirrels.
Feeders north of Lake Superior in Ontario are in someone's yard near lakes, wetlands and mixed deciduous and coniferous forests. Black-capped chickadees, red-breasted nuthatches, blue jays and hairy woodpeckers come to those feeders. And there are other species of birds there that either I've never seen at feeders or usually don't come south for the winter. Some winter finches are there, including beautiful evening grosbeaks, pine grosbeaks, common redpolls and pine siskins. And a raven, ruffed grouse and a few gray jays also came to those feeders. Those feeders are far enough north to have birds we in Pennsylvania don't normally see at feeders, or at all this far south.
But my favorite wildlife feeder is a hopper full of corn in a deciduous woodlot outside Salem, Iowa. An interesting variety of birds and mammals visit that hopper day and night. We can see the night critters because of infrared lighting.
Sometimes 20 white-tailed deer at once feed from that open hopper of corn. The deer often are quarrelsome, lifting up on back legs and striking at each other with front legs, but without bloodshed. They are always alert and quick to flee at any slight disturbance. Some deer limp from leg injuries and might be eliminated by coyotes in the area. One viewer posted that three coyotes were chasing a deer.
Several each of gray squirrels and fox squirrels come to the corn to feed during the day. Fox squirrels are larger and chunkier that the grays, and, perhaps, a bit more stately.
Never in my life have I seen so many red-headed woodpeckers as at this corn feeder. We have them here in Pennsylvania, but not so many as outside Salem, Iowa. There may be as many as five or six beautiful red-heads at that feeder at once, and they are constantly coming and going. That striking kind of woodpecker must be doing well in the American mid-west where the species originated.
Several kinds of birds visit this hopper during the day, including red-bellied woodpeckers, wild turkeys, American crows, mourning doves, blue jays, northern cardinals, white-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos. These pretty, active birds, and other kinds, no doubt, liven the corn hopper each day through winter.
A few kinds of mammals come to the corn hopper at night. Viewers can see them clearly, plus their eye shine of reflected light. Up to a dozen raccoons are the most interesting of these. They crawl into the hopper and eat corn kernels until they are full. The coons and deer don't seem to be afraid of each other. Sometimes a cottontail or an opossum also come to the feeder.
But what appears to be deer mice also come to the hopper to get kernels off the ground; one kernel at a time per mouse. I see the eye shine of the mice and then the little critters themselves as they scurry across the ground. The coons chase the mice, if they see them. But I don't know if the raccoons catch any mice to eat or not.
Though it's not usually necessary to feed wildlife, feeders are interesting to watch. I have enjoyed them in these far-flung lands. And we more easily learn what creatures are in any given area.
Monday, March 4, 2019
March Mega-Migrations
About 6:00 pm during many evenings in March, great waves of snow geese pour over the 400 acre lake at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area, close to where I live in southeastern Pennsylvania. Having finished feeding on corn kernels in harvested corn fields and green blades of winter rye, many long, wavering skeins of snows advance across the sky, one after another, often as far back in the sky as the eye can see. Each fast-flying flock of geese comes to the lake like a wave sliding up a beach, with many geese honking shrilly at once, creating a clamor of voices. Snow goose hordes circle the lake a few times, honking loudly, then descend like thousands of feathered parachutes to the water, or ice, on that impoundment where they rest, preen their feathers and socialize until hungry again.
Snow geese, and sandhill cranes in the mid-west of the United States, engage in massive migrations in March, creating exciting, inspiring, near-spiritual events that are enjoyed by thousands of people every year. Hundreds of thousands of each species are heading north to raise young, the geese in the Arctic tundra where some of them, and their eggs and young, are preyed on by polar bears, Arctic foxes and Inuits. Most cranes go to open country in Alaska and western Canada.
A hundred-thousand snow geese, on average, have been stopping at Middle Creek's lake, and surrounding fields, from the middle of February to mid-March, in the last several years. They spend winter around the Chesapeake and Delaware Bay areas and coastal New Jersey where they feed in fields and on grasses in salt marshes. But in February and March their restless hormones push them to start their long migration north. Snow geese at Middle Creek develop a daily routine of leaving the impoundment, enmasse, at sunrise to feed in fields and coming back to the lake at sunset to rest for the night. This routine, however, is variable. But when their great masses are in the air at sunrise and at sunset, they are strikingly, wonderfully silhouetted!
Noted as the greatest spring migration in North America, thousands of snow geese, and up to 600,000 sandhill cranes that wintered in Texas, New Mexico, southeastern Arizona and Mexico, bottleneck a few weeks or more on the shallow strands and mud flats of the Platte River in the prairie of south-central Nebraska. The cranes stand resting overnight in the shallows and on the flats, and take off by the thousands, in many waves, one after another and another, for fields of corn kernels in harvested corn fields at sunrise.
Like the snow geese, those early-morning cranes filling the sky with their huge numbers and rolling, one-second trills are beautifully silhouetted before the sunrise. The many crane gatherings circle the feeding fields a few times. Eventually, each bird floats down like a feathered parachute, with long legs extended for impact, to the golden corn stubble. There the crane masses ingest corn kernels among the stubble for most of the day.
At sunset, wave after wave of silhouetted masses of sandhill cranes power back to the Platte to spend the night, again amid a clamor of crane voices that seems to shatter the air and our ear drums.
Each time each group passes over the Platte, some cranes drop out of it like huge, feathered rain drops and land in the shallow water or on a mud flat. After several low passes of the river, each great gathering of cranes is on the river for the night.
About eighty percent of north-bound sandhill cranes spend part of each spring in the Platte River area of southcentral Nebraska, particularly in March. They are striking birds, up to four feet tall with a wing span of six to seven feet. They have long legs, necks and beaks for getting food. They are mostly light-gray with red foreheads. And they must run a bit into the wind to take off in flight. In flight, their necks and legs stretch out from their bodies.
Cranes are "Lords of the Dance". Each courting crane lowers its long neck, then springs up or kicks its lengthy legs forward.
The great masses of beautiful and migrating snow geese and sandhill cranes in spring are more than enjoyment to many of us: They are a gift from God. At least wildlife always gives me enjoyment, excitement, inspiration, peace and hope for a bright future.
Snow geese, and sandhill cranes in the mid-west of the United States, engage in massive migrations in March, creating exciting, inspiring, near-spiritual events that are enjoyed by thousands of people every year. Hundreds of thousands of each species are heading north to raise young, the geese in the Arctic tundra where some of them, and their eggs and young, are preyed on by polar bears, Arctic foxes and Inuits. Most cranes go to open country in Alaska and western Canada.
A hundred-thousand snow geese, on average, have been stopping at Middle Creek's lake, and surrounding fields, from the middle of February to mid-March, in the last several years. They spend winter around the Chesapeake and Delaware Bay areas and coastal New Jersey where they feed in fields and on grasses in salt marshes. But in February and March their restless hormones push them to start their long migration north. Snow geese at Middle Creek develop a daily routine of leaving the impoundment, enmasse, at sunrise to feed in fields and coming back to the lake at sunset to rest for the night. This routine, however, is variable. But when their great masses are in the air at sunrise and at sunset, they are strikingly, wonderfully silhouetted!
Noted as the greatest spring migration in North America, thousands of snow geese, and up to 600,000 sandhill cranes that wintered in Texas, New Mexico, southeastern Arizona and Mexico, bottleneck a few weeks or more on the shallow strands and mud flats of the Platte River in the prairie of south-central Nebraska. The cranes stand resting overnight in the shallows and on the flats, and take off by the thousands, in many waves, one after another and another, for fields of corn kernels in harvested corn fields at sunrise.
Like the snow geese, those early-morning cranes filling the sky with their huge numbers and rolling, one-second trills are beautifully silhouetted before the sunrise. The many crane gatherings circle the feeding fields a few times. Eventually, each bird floats down like a feathered parachute, with long legs extended for impact, to the golden corn stubble. There the crane masses ingest corn kernels among the stubble for most of the day.
At sunset, wave after wave of silhouetted masses of sandhill cranes power back to the Platte to spend the night, again amid a clamor of crane voices that seems to shatter the air and our ear drums.
Each time each group passes over the Platte, some cranes drop out of it like huge, feathered rain drops and land in the shallow water or on a mud flat. After several low passes of the river, each great gathering of cranes is on the river for the night.
About eighty percent of north-bound sandhill cranes spend part of each spring in the Platte River area of southcentral Nebraska, particularly in March. They are striking birds, up to four feet tall with a wing span of six to seven feet. They have long legs, necks and beaks for getting food. They are mostly light-gray with red foreheads. And they must run a bit into the wind to take off in flight. In flight, their necks and legs stretch out from their bodies.
Cranes are "Lords of the Dance". Each courting crane lowers its long neck, then springs up or kicks its lengthy legs forward.
The great masses of beautiful and migrating snow geese and sandhill cranes in spring are more than enjoyment to many of us: They are a gift from God. At least wildlife always gives me enjoyment, excitement, inspiration, peace and hope for a bright future.
Friday, February 22, 2019
Exclusively Antarctic Breeding Birds
I read something several days ago that stated that only three species of birds breed exclusively on the Antarctic Continent. I never thought about that before and did a little research regarding that statement. It set my imagination at work, though I have no intention of visiting Antarctica, even during its chilly summer.
Snow petrels, emperor penguins and south polar skuas are the three kinds of birds that nest nowhere but on the sea coasts of Antarctica. These are hardy, adaptable birds that exploited different niches, mostly free of competition from other bird species. And each species is well adapted to its role in life. Snow petrels and skuas have even been spotted flying over the South Pole.
Snow petrels are tube-nosed birds that are pigeon-sized and have a fluttering flight. Elegant, dainty birds, they have white feathering all over, with black beaks, legs and eyes. Their white plumage hides them when their little flocks rest on icebergs, pack ice and ice floes.
Snow petrels fly low over the Southern Ocean, close to the shores of Antarctica, to ingest krill, which is a kind of shrimp, and small fish. They also scavenge seal placentas, washed-up whale carcasses and dead penguin chicks. And they are able to drink ocean water because they excrete a high-saline solution from their tubed nostrils.
It's estimated that 4,000,000 adult snow petrels nest in colonies on rocky cliffs, usually near the ocean. Each pair's nursery is deep in a rock crevice, away from skuas.
The majestic, handsome emperor penguins are also masters of Antarctica. Thousands of them nest in colonies on pack ice many miles back from the Southern Ocean. This is the only bird species in the world that does not lay eggs on some kind of soil or rock. Emperors lay on frozen water- ice.
Male and female emperors court on the Antarctic ice shelf in autumn of the southern hemisphere. Each female lays one egg, which her mate puts in a flap of feathery skin and on top of his feet so the egg doesn't touch the life-stealing ice. Through the cold, sunless winter the males huddle together for warmth as each one incubates his mate's egg. Female emperors, meanwhile, went back to the sea to fatten up on fish and krill.
After two months at sea, surviving females return to their rookeries to relieve their starving mates of incubating duties. Each chick has hatched and is hungry for food stored in its mother's stomach. Each female repeatedly feeds her youngster and broods it on her feet. Meanwhile, the emaciated males march to the sea to feed up and come back later to feed their progeny. This routine goes on while the ice shelf melts until the young emperors are almost right at the ocean to dive in and do their own hunting of fish and krill. The habit of incubating eggs during the southern hemisphere winter insures that emperor chicks are on their own in the southern summer when the living is easier.
Emperors are adapted to their rigorous lifestyle. They have layers of fat and dense feathering that keeps them warm. They live off much of that fat when not feeding, and store food in their stomachs for their young.
The robust, eagle-like south polar skuas are related to gulls, but have strongly-hooked beaks for killing and tearing off chunks of meat and massive, barrel-shaped chests packed with powerful flight muscles for swift flight to pursue panicky prey. These web-footed, tawny-feathered gull relatives seem to be eagles in the making.
The aggressive south polar skuas are scavengers, feeding on unattended bird eggs, dead whales, penguins and other critters they find on ice and ocean water. They are also fierce predators, quickly killing and eating penguin chicks, and any other hapless critters they happen to come across on the sea or ice. They do what they must to survive and reproduce in a harsh habitat.
Snow petrels, emperor penguins and south polar skuas are the only birds in the world endemic to the Antarctic continent, where they live, feed and breed. Most people will never see them in their Antarctic habitats, but it's intriguing to know they are there.
Snow petrels, emperor penguins and south polar skuas are the three kinds of birds that nest nowhere but on the sea coasts of Antarctica. These are hardy, adaptable birds that exploited different niches, mostly free of competition from other bird species. And each species is well adapted to its role in life. Snow petrels and skuas have even been spotted flying over the South Pole.
Snow petrels are tube-nosed birds that are pigeon-sized and have a fluttering flight. Elegant, dainty birds, they have white feathering all over, with black beaks, legs and eyes. Their white plumage hides them when their little flocks rest on icebergs, pack ice and ice floes.
Snow petrels fly low over the Southern Ocean, close to the shores of Antarctica, to ingest krill, which is a kind of shrimp, and small fish. They also scavenge seal placentas, washed-up whale carcasses and dead penguin chicks. And they are able to drink ocean water because they excrete a high-saline solution from their tubed nostrils.
It's estimated that 4,000,000 adult snow petrels nest in colonies on rocky cliffs, usually near the ocean. Each pair's nursery is deep in a rock crevice, away from skuas.
The majestic, handsome emperor penguins are also masters of Antarctica. Thousands of them nest in colonies on pack ice many miles back from the Southern Ocean. This is the only bird species in the world that does not lay eggs on some kind of soil or rock. Emperors lay on frozen water- ice.
Male and female emperors court on the Antarctic ice shelf in autumn of the southern hemisphere. Each female lays one egg, which her mate puts in a flap of feathery skin and on top of his feet so the egg doesn't touch the life-stealing ice. Through the cold, sunless winter the males huddle together for warmth as each one incubates his mate's egg. Female emperors, meanwhile, went back to the sea to fatten up on fish and krill.
After two months at sea, surviving females return to their rookeries to relieve their starving mates of incubating duties. Each chick has hatched and is hungry for food stored in its mother's stomach. Each female repeatedly feeds her youngster and broods it on her feet. Meanwhile, the emaciated males march to the sea to feed up and come back later to feed their progeny. This routine goes on while the ice shelf melts until the young emperors are almost right at the ocean to dive in and do their own hunting of fish and krill. The habit of incubating eggs during the southern hemisphere winter insures that emperor chicks are on their own in the southern summer when the living is easier.
Emperors are adapted to their rigorous lifestyle. They have layers of fat and dense feathering that keeps them warm. They live off much of that fat when not feeding, and store food in their stomachs for their young.
The robust, eagle-like south polar skuas are related to gulls, but have strongly-hooked beaks for killing and tearing off chunks of meat and massive, barrel-shaped chests packed with powerful flight muscles for swift flight to pursue panicky prey. These web-footed, tawny-feathered gull relatives seem to be eagles in the making.
The aggressive south polar skuas are scavengers, feeding on unattended bird eggs, dead whales, penguins and other critters they find on ice and ocean water. They are also fierce predators, quickly killing and eating penguin chicks, and any other hapless critters they happen to come across on the sea or ice. They do what they must to survive and reproduce in a harsh habitat.
Snow petrels, emperor penguins and south polar skuas are the only birds in the world endemic to the Antarctic continent, where they live, feed and breed. Most people will never see them in their Antarctic habitats, but it's intriguing to know they are there.
Monday, February 18, 2019
Petite Polar Gulls
Two kinds of small, beautiful gulls, the ivory and Ross', spend most of their lives on the vast Arctic Ocean where ocean currents and wind create leads of open water in the pack ice. These gulls add beauty and interest to that ocean, particularly in winter when few other creatures are there. Few of us will ever visit the Arctic Ocean, but it's inspiring to know that an intriguing community of animals live in that extreme habitat, including those two kinds of handsome, interesting gulls.
Both these lovely gulls are well adapted to living on the Arctic Ocean. Their small bodies allow them to function well on limited food. Ivory gulls have white feathering, which blends them into the snow and ice of the Arctic. Predators don't easily see them. Ross' gulls are light in color, camouflaging them. Both species have strong, pigeon-like flight that carries them over ice to scattered, watery leads in the ice where they get food.
Ivory gulls are fourteen inches long, a bit larger than pigeons. They are white with black legs and a gray beak, tipped with yellow. Young ivories, however, have some dark dots and blotches on their white plumage.
At all times of the year, except their breeding season, ivories travel long distances to scattered food sources. They consume the dung of meat-eating Arctic wolves and Arctic foxes, scraps of meat and fat from mammals, including seals and whales, killed by polar bears and Inuits, and any other dead birds and mammals they find along their way.
Ross' gulls are eleven inches long, about the size of pigeons, and have red legs and small, pointed, black beaks. The pretty adults have pale-gray upper wings and tails and a blush of pink underneath. They also have a black ring around their necks during the breeding season. Young Ross' have a dark W across their upper wings and back.
Year around, except during nesting time, Ross' gulls follow leads in the pack ice to find and ingest small crustaceans such as scuds, plankton and tiny fish, all of which they pick out of the water with their small, thin bills.
Obviously, each of these gull species has food sources different from the other kind of gull, reducing competition for food between them. And each gull species' bill is suited to get its food, a case of form following function. Like all living beings, these gulls are built for what they do to sustain life.
Ivory gulls and Ross' gulls nest apart from each other. Ivories nest in colonies among rocks on sea-facing cliffs and gravel-covered, polar ice in northern Greenland and on Canadian islands just west of Greenland. Each pair builds a cradle of moss, lichens and seaweed. Meanwhile, Ross' gulls nest in colonies on the ground in river valleys and deltas in northeastern Siberia. But both species winter among icebergs, ice floes and leads on the edges of the polar pack ice on the Arctic Ocean, even during the long, dark, polar night.
Ivory and Ross' gulls are fascinating in themselves, and where they live the year around, a brutal habitat we can hardly imagine. Though most of us will never see them, it's intriguing to note where and how these hardy kinds of gulls live.
Both these lovely gulls are well adapted to living on the Arctic Ocean. Their small bodies allow them to function well on limited food. Ivory gulls have white feathering, which blends them into the snow and ice of the Arctic. Predators don't easily see them. Ross' gulls are light in color, camouflaging them. Both species have strong, pigeon-like flight that carries them over ice to scattered, watery leads in the ice where they get food.
Ivory gulls are fourteen inches long, a bit larger than pigeons. They are white with black legs and a gray beak, tipped with yellow. Young ivories, however, have some dark dots and blotches on their white plumage.
At all times of the year, except their breeding season, ivories travel long distances to scattered food sources. They consume the dung of meat-eating Arctic wolves and Arctic foxes, scraps of meat and fat from mammals, including seals and whales, killed by polar bears and Inuits, and any other dead birds and mammals they find along their way.
Ross' gulls are eleven inches long, about the size of pigeons, and have red legs and small, pointed, black beaks. The pretty adults have pale-gray upper wings and tails and a blush of pink underneath. They also have a black ring around their necks during the breeding season. Young Ross' have a dark W across their upper wings and back.
Year around, except during nesting time, Ross' gulls follow leads in the pack ice to find and ingest small crustaceans such as scuds, plankton and tiny fish, all of which they pick out of the water with their small, thin bills.
Obviously, each of these gull species has food sources different from the other kind of gull, reducing competition for food between them. And each gull species' bill is suited to get its food, a case of form following function. Like all living beings, these gulls are built for what they do to sustain life.
Ivory gulls and Ross' gulls nest apart from each other. Ivories nest in colonies among rocks on sea-facing cliffs and gravel-covered, polar ice in northern Greenland and on Canadian islands just west of Greenland. Each pair builds a cradle of moss, lichens and seaweed. Meanwhile, Ross' gulls nest in colonies on the ground in river valleys and deltas in northeastern Siberia. But both species winter among icebergs, ice floes and leads on the edges of the polar pack ice on the Arctic Ocean, even during the long, dark, polar night.
Ivory and Ross' gulls are fascinating in themselves, and where they live the year around, a brutal habitat we can hardly imagine. Though most of us will never see them, it's intriguing to note where and how these hardy kinds of gulls live.
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
Gulls Wintering on Impoundments
Many times in winter over the years, I have visited the several large, human-made impoundments in southeastern Pennsylvania to experience Canada geese, snow geese, tundra swans, a variety of ducks, great blue herons, bald eagles and ring-billed gulls that regularly winter on them, but not all at once and not on every lake. These are birds that traditionally wintered on the Susquehanna and Delaware Rivers and Chesapeake and Delaware Bays, but have adapted to built impoundments.
I visited Blue Marsh Lake, a huge impoundment in Berks County, one recent mid-afternoon to see if masses of ring-billed gulls were still spending winter nights there, as they have for several years. They were, by the thousands. Ring-bills are the main wintering bird species on that built lake, resting on its water, or ice, every winter night, as other ring-bills do on many other impoundments.
Ring-billed gulls have long adapted to wintering on local inland habitats, including harvested fields, parking lots and, most recently, landfills, to get food, and on built lakes to rest in relative peace. They have been a common, wintering species here for many years, bringing a touch of rivers, estuaries and sea coasts inland.
During winter days, thousands of ring-bills concentrate at feeding sites, especially landfills. Most gull species are preadapted to scavenging in open habitats and, therefore, can make good use of landfills. But by mid-afternoon, long lines and flocks of ring-bills wing swiftly across the sky, flock after flock, as if on an aerial highway, to return to their chosen lake, including the one at Blue Marsh, for example, to spend the night in relative safety in a familiar habitat. Each gull flaps powerfully and soars gracefully over the lake and eventually sweeps down to land on it, or a gravelly beach on its shore. And all those gulls together create quite an inspiring show of beauty and grace as they land on Blue Marsh Lake and beach, as on other impoundments.
The presence of the many adaptable ring-bills on built lakes may attract other, more common, species of wintering gulls to rest on those inland impoundments, including herring, great black-backed and, maybe most recently, lesser black-backed gulls. These three kinds of gulls, plus an occasional glaucous or Iceland gull, are also adapting to wintering on inland impoundments to some extent, and feeding at landfills. Herring gulls look like larger editions of ring-bills. Great black-backs are white with black upper wings and backs and pink legs. And the smaller lesser black-backs are white with dark-gray upper wings and backs and yellow legs.
Human-made impoundments and landfills have changed the wintering habits of the more adaptable and common kinds of gulls in southeastern Pennsylvania, and North America in general, to the birds' benefit. And those gulls help bring beauty, grace and excitement to those built habitats in winter.
I visited Blue Marsh Lake, a huge impoundment in Berks County, one recent mid-afternoon to see if masses of ring-billed gulls were still spending winter nights there, as they have for several years. They were, by the thousands. Ring-bills are the main wintering bird species on that built lake, resting on its water, or ice, every winter night, as other ring-bills do on many other impoundments.
Ring-billed gulls have long adapted to wintering on local inland habitats, including harvested fields, parking lots and, most recently, landfills, to get food, and on built lakes to rest in relative peace. They have been a common, wintering species here for many years, bringing a touch of rivers, estuaries and sea coasts inland.
During winter days, thousands of ring-bills concentrate at feeding sites, especially landfills. Most gull species are preadapted to scavenging in open habitats and, therefore, can make good use of landfills. But by mid-afternoon, long lines and flocks of ring-bills wing swiftly across the sky, flock after flock, as if on an aerial highway, to return to their chosen lake, including the one at Blue Marsh, for example, to spend the night in relative safety in a familiar habitat. Each gull flaps powerfully and soars gracefully over the lake and eventually sweeps down to land on it, or a gravelly beach on its shore. And all those gulls together create quite an inspiring show of beauty and grace as they land on Blue Marsh Lake and beach, as on other impoundments.
The presence of the many adaptable ring-bills on built lakes may attract other, more common, species of wintering gulls to rest on those inland impoundments, including herring, great black-backed and, maybe most recently, lesser black-backed gulls. These three kinds of gulls, plus an occasional glaucous or Iceland gull, are also adapting to wintering on inland impoundments to some extent, and feeding at landfills. Herring gulls look like larger editions of ring-bills. Great black-backs are white with black upper wings and backs and pink legs. And the smaller lesser black-backs are white with dark-gray upper wings and backs and yellow legs.
Human-made impoundments and landfills have changed the wintering habits of the more adaptable and common kinds of gulls in southeastern Pennsylvania, and North America in general, to the birds' benefit. And those gulls help bring beauty, grace and excitement to those built habitats in winter.
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
Wintering Geese in Southeastern Pennsylvania
Several kinds of handsome geese winter on many human-made impoundments in southeastern Pennsylvania, as they do elsewhere across much of the United States. And Canada geese are, by far, the most numerous goose species regularly wintering on southeastern Pennsylvania lakes. They rest on those bodies of water in flocks of hundreds, even thousands.
Snow geese are common here, too, but only in part of each winter because they move around a lot.
And five other kinds of geese, including Atlantic brant, cackling geese and barnacle geese in the Branta genus with Canada geese, Ross's geese in the Chen genus with snow geese, and white-fronted geese in the Anser genus, winter here occasionally in single-digit numbers for the most part.
The great, noisy flocks of stately Canada geese dominate the impoundments they settle on to rest, preen and socialize. When hungry, group after group of Canadas, all honking loudly, run across the water while flapping their powerful wings, and take swift flight off the lakes, into the wind, and off to harvested corn fields to eat waste corn kernels, or to winter rye fields to pluck the green shoots of rye. When arriving at a feeding field, Canada goose flocks that trailed each other across farmland, bugling loudly all the way, stream down into the wind to a field, gang after gang, as if on an aerial highway, each bird extending its wings like parachutes.
When full of corn kernels or rye blades, flocks of Canadas run across the field, in one minute intervals, and lift off into the wind to sweep back to their resting impoundments. There each gang swings into the wind again and floats gently down to the water, as each bird's reflection races through the water to meet its bird in splashing impact.
Canada geese are a large, picturesque part of southeastern Pennsylvania in winter. Great gatherings of these big, majestic birds are always exciting to see and hear, wherever they may be. They add much life to this area's lakes and fields, all of which are human-made habitats they adapted to. But great hordes of bugling Canada geese in flight are most exciting and inspiring to see and hear at sunrise and sunset when silhouetted black before the red sky.
Those masses of elegant Canadas attract other kinds of geese to this area's lakes and farmland, especially the awe-inspiring snow geese in their boisterous, overwhelming tens of thousands, often in one giant horde.
Snows usually arrive here in mid-February and stay until almost the middle of March. Like Canadas, snow geese rest on local impoundments and fly out to feeding fields in great, writhing lines, one after another, like waves sliding up a beach. The whole mass of snows often rise from water and fields at once, with a deafening roar of beating wings and high-pitched, honking voices, and looking like a giant sheet being lifted by one end.
Snow geese feed in the same fields that Canada geese do. But snow goose hordes are so large that the snows have to move from field to field every day to get enough to eat. Snows often clean out fields, causing Canadas to move to other feeding fields, too.
Brant, cackling geese, barnacle geese and Ross's geese are all small species, hardly larger than mallard ducks. These species of petite and attractive geese have short necks, and small heads and beaks. Cackling geese are miniature editions of Canada geese and Ross's are miniature editions of snow geese. In winter, these species of smaller geese, and a few white-fronted geese, join gangs of Canada and snow geese, adding more excitement to birders when those geese are spotted among the larger ones on impoundments and in fields.
Brant, and cackling and Ross's geese, raise young on the Canadian tundra. And brant and barnacle geese hatch offspring on the coasts of Greenland.
Barnacle pairs nest on sea cliffs to hatch young away from Arctic foxes and polar bears. But when their goslings hatch, those youngsters must jump off the cliffs to the ground or water below. A few goslings are killed or injured by the impact and some get caught and eaten by Arctic foxes, but the majority of barnacle goslings survive the leap.
Look for these attractive geese this winter and into early spring, or in successive winters. They are exciting and inspiring to experience.
Snow geese are common here, too, but only in part of each winter because they move around a lot.
And five other kinds of geese, including Atlantic brant, cackling geese and barnacle geese in the Branta genus with Canada geese, Ross's geese in the Chen genus with snow geese, and white-fronted geese in the Anser genus, winter here occasionally in single-digit numbers for the most part.
The great, noisy flocks of stately Canada geese dominate the impoundments they settle on to rest, preen and socialize. When hungry, group after group of Canadas, all honking loudly, run across the water while flapping their powerful wings, and take swift flight off the lakes, into the wind, and off to harvested corn fields to eat waste corn kernels, or to winter rye fields to pluck the green shoots of rye. When arriving at a feeding field, Canada goose flocks that trailed each other across farmland, bugling loudly all the way, stream down into the wind to a field, gang after gang, as if on an aerial highway, each bird extending its wings like parachutes.
When full of corn kernels or rye blades, flocks of Canadas run across the field, in one minute intervals, and lift off into the wind to sweep back to their resting impoundments. There each gang swings into the wind again and floats gently down to the water, as each bird's reflection races through the water to meet its bird in splashing impact.
Canada geese are a large, picturesque part of southeastern Pennsylvania in winter. Great gatherings of these big, majestic birds are always exciting to see and hear, wherever they may be. They add much life to this area's lakes and fields, all of which are human-made habitats they adapted to. But great hordes of bugling Canada geese in flight are most exciting and inspiring to see and hear at sunrise and sunset when silhouetted black before the red sky.
Those masses of elegant Canadas attract other kinds of geese to this area's lakes and farmland, especially the awe-inspiring snow geese in their boisterous, overwhelming tens of thousands, often in one giant horde.
Snows usually arrive here in mid-February and stay until almost the middle of March. Like Canadas, snow geese rest on local impoundments and fly out to feeding fields in great, writhing lines, one after another, like waves sliding up a beach. The whole mass of snows often rise from water and fields at once, with a deafening roar of beating wings and high-pitched, honking voices, and looking like a giant sheet being lifted by one end.
Snow geese feed in the same fields that Canada geese do. But snow goose hordes are so large that the snows have to move from field to field every day to get enough to eat. Snows often clean out fields, causing Canadas to move to other feeding fields, too.
Brant, cackling geese, barnacle geese and Ross's geese are all small species, hardly larger than mallard ducks. These species of petite and attractive geese have short necks, and small heads and beaks. Cackling geese are miniature editions of Canada geese and Ross's are miniature editions of snow geese. In winter, these species of smaller geese, and a few white-fronted geese, join gangs of Canada and snow geese, adding more excitement to birders when those geese are spotted among the larger ones on impoundments and in fields.
Brant, and cackling and Ross's geese, raise young on the Canadian tundra. And brant and barnacle geese hatch offspring on the coasts of Greenland.
Barnacle pairs nest on sea cliffs to hatch young away from Arctic foxes and polar bears. But when their goslings hatch, those youngsters must jump off the cliffs to the ground or water below. A few goslings are killed or injured by the impact and some get caught and eaten by Arctic foxes, but the majority of barnacle goslings survive the leap.
Look for these attractive geese this winter and into early spring, or in successive winters. They are exciting and inspiring to experience.
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