Under Red Maple Flowers

     Red maple trees are striking with innumerable red blossoms from the latter half of March to the second week of April, here in southeastern Pennsylvania, as in much of the northeastern United States and eastern Canada.  And I associate those lovely, little blooms with many other natural beauties in woodland swamps where red maples are wild and suburban areas where that type of tree is abundantly planted for its many beauties the year around.  
     The ancient, primordial choruses of hundreds of cold-blooded male spring peepers and American toads ring out from under the blush of red maple flowers' multitudes in wooded swamps, day and night, from late March through much of April.  Each peeper repeatedly peeps shrilly for a minute or more in shallow water, stops, then continues peeping, while the toads trill musically, time after time, for about 30 seconds each trill while sitting upright in the shallows of a pond in woodlands and thickets.  And, occasionally, while those tailless amphibians are chorusing to attract mates for spawning in the water, a pair of Canada geese will fly over, honking boisterously.
     The innumerable blooms of lesser celandines carpet many a damp woodland floor yellow under the soft-red of red maple flowers.  And the moister parts of those woods floors are green with developing skunk cabbage leaves.  The red canopies, yellow rugs and lush-green skunk cabbage foliage paint pretty pictures of new life in abundance in local woods toward the end of March. 
     At this time, too, pairs of lithe wood ducks are looking for available nesting cavities in which the hen woody will lay her clutch of about 12 eggs.  Many sycamore and red maple trees have hollows where wind ripped limbs off the trees, exposing the wood to agents of decay.  Sometimes those attractive woodies perch on the branches of blooming red maples to rest.  The maple flowers and ducks together in the tree tops are lovely sights.
     I also associate red maple blossoms with greening grass, the lovely flowers of Veronicas, crocuses daffodils and forsythia, and the welcome singing of mourning doves, American robins and northern cardinals under the canopies of planted red maples on the lawns and along streets in suburbs.  Some of the birds sing from the midst of those red canopies, adding their feathered beauties to that of those wonderful flowers.
     Little colonies of purple grackles perch in the red canopies of red maples that happen to be near the dark-green of spruce and fir trees the grackles will eventually raise young in.  The grackles add their iridescent purple and green beauties to that of the maple blossoms.       
     Blushes of red maple flowers also help highlight the beauties of the blue sky and white, cumulus clouds on sunny days.  How wonderful to look up through red canopies to the sky and scudding clouds that constantly change shapes.  And, perhaps, a hawk or vulture might be drifting and circling before one of those attractive clouds.  
     Red maple foliage adds much beauty to local wooded swamps and suburban areas.  It is a major part of my pleasant memories of spring, and many of its wonders, in southeastern Pennsylvania.            

Inland Shorebirds in Spring

     About sunset one March evening when I was about twelve, I was walking through a plowed field in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland and suddenly flushed up a robin-sized, brown and white bird that had an orange tail.  It flew up right in front of me and called loudly, startling me.  I later learned that the bird was a killdeer plover that was either migrating north or preparing to nest in that bare-ground field.
     I like February, March and April here in southeastern Pennsylvania because of the excitement of longer periods of daylight each succeeding day, warmer weather, on average, the blooming of early flowers, the migration of certain kinds of birds and the courting and nesting of other bird species.  Killdeer plovers, Wilson's snipe and American woodcocks are inland shorebirds that winter here in limited numbers.  But many other individuals of each kind migrate into this area and beyond during March, bolstering the numbers of each of these beautiful, interesting species here, and in the northeastern United States. 
     The related killdeer, snipe and woodcocks all live in moist, bottomland habitats, but in different niches, which makes them distinct species.  However, being cousins to each other, they all have certain traits in common.  They all consume invertebrates off the ground.  Each female of all species lays her four eggs in a shallow cradle on the ground.  The young of all species hatch fully fuzzed, open-eyed, and ready to run and feed themselves within 24 hours of hatching.  And the eggs, young and adults of each kind are camouflaged, blending them into their surroundings, which hides them from predators.  I must confess, I can not see any of them standing still in the open in their natural habitats.  I can only spot them when they move across the ground, or fly.
     Killdeer summer and raise young on gravel bars along streams, creeks and impoundments, gravel parking lots and railroad beds, bare-ground fields, short-grass lawns and meadows, and similar, open habitats.  Camouflage is necessary in such shelter-less niches these birds evolved in.
     But killdeer also have another defensive strategy- the broken-wing act.  If a predator gets near a killdeer nest or foraging young, the adults flop about like they are crippled, which lures predators to those parents and not the eggs or chicks.  When the predator is led far enough away from the young, the adults suddenly take flight, leaving the predator in confusion, while the youngsters are safe, for the moment at least.
     Snipe nest farther north than southeastern Pennsylvania.  But some winter here and migrate through this area.  Snipe frequent the edges of brooks and streams in cow pastures, where they probe their long beaks into mud under shallow water to pull out and ingest worms and other kinds of invertebrates.
     Snipe are beautifully feathered in brown and darker streaking which camouflages them.  It takes me a bit of looking through binoculars to finally spot some of these inland sandpipers.
     But the most intriguing inland sandpiper in this grouping is that crepuscular recluse with a long "nose", the American woodcock of bottomland woods and thickets.  Through the last several years, I have seen many courtship displays of male woodcocks performed before the soft-pink of spring sunsets and bare, deciduous trees.
     Soon after sunset, most every evening through March and April, each male woodcock flies out from his ground retreat in a bottomland woods or thicket and lands on a bare-ground spot in a field or other open habitat.  There he stands with his long beak on his chest and vocally "peents" for up to a minute or more.  Then he takes off in spiral flight into the darkening sky, higher and higher, while a special feather on each wing twitters rythmically.  At the height of his climb, he vocally sings several bubbling notes, then dives to the ground, levels off and lands on his bare spot of soil to repeat his performance again, and again.  Only hunger or female woodcocks willing to mate stop his interesting courtship displays for the evening.  But each male woodcock will be back displaying the next
evening, weather permitting.   
     These inland shorebirds help make southeastern Pennsylvania more interesting each spring.  The challenge, of course, is finding them.              

Pintails and Blue Geese

     I have never seen so many northern pintail ducks and blue geese as I have in February of 2020 at Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge near the Chesapeake Bay on Maryland's Eastern Shore.  Pintails and snow geese have traditionally wintered in shallows of the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays.  There they feed on aquatic vegetation, grasses in salt marshes and corn kernels in fields.  But both species, and Canada geese mallard ducks and tundra swans, adapted to wintering on the shallow retention basins at Blackwater and other wildlife refuges along those two estuaries. 
     Every day in February of this year, I watched great flocks of snow geese, many of them the dark color phase called blue geese, swirl down together onto those retention basins like a blizzard of snow, after feeding in nearby fields and marshes.  As the geese settled on those freshwater basins, they formed an island of white and dark birds on the water that grew larger and larger as more and more geese spiraled down.
     I had been watching those pintails and both color phases of snow geese through February on our computer screen as transmitted by a live camera mounted on a causeway between the two retention basins.  That camera made me feel as though I was standing, in person, on that causeway.
     The large numbers of pintails at Blackwater were impressing.  Handsome and streamlined, each male pintail has two long tail fathers that give this species its name, and helps identify the kind of duck it is.  Female pintails, however, are brown with darker streaking, and have no long tail feathers.  But the hens' blending into their habitats keeps them safer from predators while brooding eggs and raising ducklings.   
     Northern pintails' courtship flights in late winter and early spring are their most interesting activity, which I witnessed at Blackwater many times.  Three to five males would gather around a hen pintail on the water and show off before her.  Soon the female pintail took flight, with all the drakes swiftly following her.  The male who keeps up with the racing hen the best will be her mate for the coming breeding season.  Hen pintails hatch ducklings in grassy nests on the ground around ponds and marshes in the prairies of Central United States and Canada. 
     Tens of thousands of snow geese of both colors dominated the twin retention basins at Blackwater.  And I was surprised to see so many blue geese in those constantly, excitedly honking masses of them landing on the basins.  Blue geese are regularly abundant in the Mississippi River flyway in winter, but not along the East Coast. 
     Blackwater's retention basins are often full of waterfowl in winter and early spring, including feeding tundra swans and Northern pintails, and resting Canada geese and snow geese.  Snow geese are well-named because many of them are all-white with black wing tips, they feed in snow and they are in the United States in winter. 
     But to people with limited knowledge about snow geese, there seems to be several kinds of geese in a snow goose flock.  Adult snow geese are white with black wing tips.  Immature snow geese have white and gray feathers.  Adult blue geese are dark-gray with white heads and necks.  Snow geese that had one white parent and one dark parent are dark with white heads, necks and bellies.  And immature blue geese are dark all over.  Snow geese might appear to be several different kinds of geese, but they are all one species. 
     I was impressed and entertained by the numbers and activities of Northern pintails and blue geese at Blackwater Refuge last month.  There is always something new and intriguing going on in nature. 

Earliest Flowers

     At least seven kinds of plants, from skunk cabbage hoods to inch-tall, lawn plants to trees make woods and lawns in southeastern Pennsylvania flowery during February and into March.  All the lovely blooms of these interesting, perennial plants bring beauty to those habitats every year, year after year.
     Skunk cabbage hoods house the first flowers of the year, as early as the end of January.  This native vegetation dominates and decorates soggy soil and inch-deep pools in bottomland woods.  Each thick, fleshy hood emerges from the wet ground and half opens, revealing a small ball with several tiny flowers on it.  Those blooms are pollinated by early-flying flies and bees.  By late March, each skunk cabbage plant grows large, lush leaves that is a favorite, early food of black bears.  
     Snow drops often sprout early in February, when we need signs that spring is coming.  These are two-inch-tall plants that are originally from Eurasia.  Early-growing vegetation hugs the ground to avoid cold wind, yet receive the warming sunlight.
     Snow drops are introduced to local lawns and flower beds by planting bulbs in fall.  Each snow drop plant has a few grass-like leaves and one small, white flower that looks like a snowdrop until it opens.  Then each lovely blossom resembles a tiny bell.  With imagination, one can almost hear several of them ringing in the wind.   
     Winter aconites are also from Eurasia, introduced to local lawns and flower beds by planting their bulbs in autumn, and bloom by mid-February.  Each aconite is one inch high, and has a single, scalloped leaf below one golden, beautiful flower.
     Aconites spread from the seeds their attractive blossoms produce and are scattered by the wind.  Yellow colonies of aconites, some of them large, bloom on, and brighten, some lawns and woodland floors in southeastern Pennsylvania.     
     Spring witch hazels are native shrubs planted on lawns because of their pretty yellow and pale-orange flowers that bloom by mid-February, adding another touch of the coming spring.  Each lovely blossom has four short, thin petals.
     Speckled alders are also native shrubs that inhabit streambanks.  Their purple, inch-long male catkins swell, elongate and become yellow with pollen that blows in the wind, fertilizing female blooms.  By the middle of February, the drooping male catkins undulate and sway in the wind, which adds to the beauties of this woody plant. 
     Muskrats, beavers and cottontail rabbits eat the bark and buds of witch hazels and alders in winter.  And the roots of the alders help keep stream banks in place.
     The popular and be-loved pussy willows are from Eurasia, but are also planted on many local lawns for their lovely, gray furries by the end of February.  Male plants of this species can be started by putting twig cuttings in water until they sprout roots and leaves.  Then plant them in moist soil and water them for a while. 
     Pussy willows' attractive, gray fuzzies are short, upright and soft at first.  But they quickly become larger, and yellow with pollen.  Then they are swarmed by a limited variety of small insects after their pollen.
     Native silver maple trees produce many yellow and dull-red flowers by the end of February.  Those lovely blooms create a beautiful glow in the trees. 
     Silver maples inhabit creek and river banks where their roots help hold down the soil against erosion.  And large silver maples become riddled with cavities where wind ripped limbs off these weak trees.  Barred owls, wood ducks, chickadees, squirrels, raccoons, black snakes and other critters live and raise young in those hollows of various sizes.  And the large seeds these maples produce feed a variety of rodents.
     Look for these early flowers this year and following years.  They add beauties to the landscape when we need that beauty the most.     
      

February Preparations for Nesting

     In February each year, a variety of birds in southeastern Pennsylvania farmland prepare for the coming nesting season, an indication that spring has arrived locally.  And some of those preps are obvious to people who look for them, bringing joy to their hearts, including mine.
     Weather is fickle and cold, snow and ice could be prevalent during February in this area.  But longer periods of daylight each succeeding day and the sun rising "higher" and "hotter"in the sky stir hormones in many kinds of birds during February. 
     Clamorous floods of tundra swans, Canada geese and snow geese,  and a variety of duck species, particularly northern pintails, American wigeons, ring-necked ducks and common mergansers, pour onto local cropland lakes and fields for a few weeks.  The swans, geese and some duck species rest on the water, and feed on corn kernels in harvested corn fields and the green shoots of winter grain plants.  Ring-necks stay on the human-made impoundments and dive under water to eat aquatic vegetation.  Mergansers also remain on the water and dive under to catch small fish in their thin, serrated beaks.
     The elegant swans and stately geese are most enjoyable to experience when they are flying, in organized, noisy flocks, to and from feeding fields and impoundments.  They are particularly majestic as black silhouettes flying before strikingly red sunsets.  
     During warm afternoons in February, pretty males of a variety of small, permanent resident birds of farmland thickets, wood lots and farm yards sing beautifully to announce themselves, establish nesting territories and attract mates, much to the joy of the people who hear them.  With reproductive hormones stirred, male Carolina wrens, northern cardinals, song sparrows, house finches, tufted titmice and starlings make those built habitats ring with song in February.
     Handsome male mourning doves and rock pigeons add to the bird concerts in February.  Each kind of these related birds has its own way of cooing that can be heard by delighted farm folk ready for spring.  Many pairs of doves build flimsy nurseries in young evergreen trees whose needled boughs shelter the young.  And pigeons build poor cradles on supporting beams in barns and under bridges.  Each female of every pair of both kinds lays only two white eggs per brood.  But each pair attempts to raise several broods, from early spring into September.    
     Interestingly, the attractive male downy woodpeckers of farmland wood lots and farm yards hammer on dead limbs in trees, and on spouting, roofs and other built objects in February to announce their presence and nesting territories.  Obviously, their loud, rapid drumming serves the same purpose as birds' singing; to attract mates for raising young in cavities that both parents chip into dead wood in trees.  And that drumming is another sign of spring.
     In February, lone, local pairs of stately Canada geese and handsome mallard ducks, quietly and secretly look for nesting sites among tall grasses near ponds and streams in this area.  These pairs have separated themselves from flocks of their kinds to have the freedom for their searches.  And they will chase away any rivals of their own kinds to keep their nesting territories.
     Generally, by early March, each hen of goose and duck creates a nursery on the ground that is protected by tall plants.  Each female begins to lay eggs by the second week in March and the goslings and ducklings hatch as early as the third week in April, thankfully when the weather usually is a bit warmer.
     Usually, by the end of February, great, mixed hordes of noisy purple grackles and red-winged blackbirds begin to pour into southeastern Pennsylvania on their way to nesting sites.  Whole fields are blackened with their numbers as they feed on corn kernels, other grains and seeds, and any invertebrates that are already available to them.  Sometimes the blackbirds "pinwheel" over each other in their search for food in the fields.
     But these two kinds of blackbirds are most striking when in flight to seek more food in other fields.  The grackles have a purple and green sheen that is most visible in sunlight.  Red-wings in flight are even more attractive in flight.  The red shoulder patches of the flying males look like hot, flickering embers in a furnace of black coal.                     
     But within a couple of weeks, the grackles and red-wings are in their nesting habitats.  Most of the grackles will form little nesting colonies among stands of coniferous trees, while red-wings will be among the many clumps of cattails in this area.
     February is packed with more bird activity than most people know.  And a lot of it has to do with prepping for nesting.           
      

Geese in the Gloom

     During a few overcast late afternoons in the middle of February of this year, I was watching several thousand attractive, constantly honking snow geese floating and swimming on the 400 acre lake at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area in southeastern Pennsylvania through our computer screen at home, as I had been for the last few weeks.  During those twilights the lake reflected the gray sky and sometimes light rain fell, creating a cold, dismal scene.  Woods on two sides of that human-made impoundment appeared black in the gloom and weedy fields bordering the lake were dark beige, helping to cause a cheerless landscape in many peoples' opinions.  But I saw beauty in the cloudy sky, woods, fields and masses of noisy, white snow geese in the midst of that dreariness at dusk.  
     In February and March, for more than thirty years, I drove to Middle Creek to see wintering snow geese, Canada geese, tundra swans and a variety of duck species that gathered on the lake  before migrating north or west to their nesting grounds.  But now, because of warm convenience and aching knees, I am content to experience snow geese and other kinds of waterfowl through our computer screen at home.
     As I watched the snow geese on the sky-reflecting, gray water late in those overcast, rainy late afternoons and early evenings, waves of more snows swept over the impoundment like ocean waves sliding up a beach, then spiraled down, flock after flock after flock, for about 20 minutes, to the lake and landed among their fellows.  That raft of snow geese quickly expanded across the water.  And those many thousands of snow geese brought cheer, beauty and excitement to an, otherwise, gloomy scene.  
     The snow geese in flight appeared dark before the light-gray clouds, but white when seen in front of the black woods as the geese swirled down to the water, group after bugling group.
     Snow geese are unique in the way they form conspicuous, noisy hordes of tens of thousands and travel and do everything together in those great masses.  They create white islands on lakes and make a field look like snow fell only on that one parcel of land.
     Wintering snow geese, Canada geese and tundra swans today have learned to eat corn kernels in harvested fields and the green shoots of grass and winter grain plants.  And because of their adapting to feeding in fields, these kinds of large waterfowl are numerous in agricultural areas of southeastern Pennsylvania, and parts of Maryland, Delaware and New Jersey through each winter.  Though they feed in fields, these species rest in comparative safety on built impoundments.
     I have seen the stately snow geese in fields, on lakes, and in the sky between those habitats dear to the geese.  I've seen them in all kinds of weather in winter and early spring, including snowfalls and sunny skies.  But a special treat to me is to experience these tough, adaptable birds at dusk under a cloudy sky.  They seem appropriate and are beautiful in those cheerless, winter times and habitats.  Snow geese prove there is beauty and intrigue in most every time and place on Earth.  And we humans have the God-given talent of experiencing the beauty of nature, wherever it is.
     Sometime in March, snow geese leave Middle Creek and push north, little by little, to their nesting territories on the Arctic tundra.  But they provided much beauty, interest and entertainment to many people while they were wintering here.  And they were a special beauty to me when their thousands spiraled down to Middle Creek's lake during dusk when cloudy skies, dark woods and solemn fields seemed foreboding.  Multitudes of boisterous snow geese added pulsing life to an otherwise dismal habitat.  Beauty is where one finds it, most everywhere on Earth.     

Earliest Courtships

     At least five kinds of adaptable wildlife in the mid-Atlantic States start reproductive activities as early as December and January.  Those species are great horned owls, bald eagles, red-tailed hawks, red foxes and gray squirrels, all of which add more life and interest to late winter into early spring in this area.  Those species get a head start on producing young, that will be independent in summer when food is most plentiful and available. 
     Each kind of bird in this essay early on usurps the twiggy, treetop cradles of American crows, various heron species, ospreys and other types of larger birds that nest in this area.  And great horned owl, bald eagle and red-tail nurseries are "seen" by live cameras at the nest sites and viewed on computer screens, without the birds realizing what is happening, and going about their daily business.
     Pairs of great horned owls start their reproductive cycle by the end of November and continue it well into January.  Members of each pair hoot loudly to their mates, both day and night, during that time, particularly at dawn and dusk.  Certain woodlots, and older suburban areas with their many tall trees, are alive with the big owls' wild, exciting hooting that continually binds the pairs together to hatch and raise young each year.
     During January, each pair of horned owls adds on to their stick, treetop nursery.  By the end of that coldest of months, each female owl lays one to three eggs in her cradle and sets on the first one right away.  The owl chicks hatch by the end of February, not all at once, but staggered over several days, as the eggs were laid.  The owlets leave their nest by the middle of April and are on their own early in June when prey animals, such as mice and rats, are abundant.  Courting in winter gets the chicks independent by early summer when they can best feed themselves.
     Bald eagle pairs also begin courting during December and January, thrilling many people who see them.  One can spot pairs soaring together over their vast territories and gathering sticks, then grass, to add to the platforms they use year after year. 
     Each female bald lays one to three eggs, one every few days, by mid-February and the white-fluffed young hatch about a month later.  The eaglets, when adult-sized and dark-feathered, become independent by the middle of June.                       
     Red-tailed hawk pairs are seen soaring and perching in trees together, in farmland woodlots and older suburban areas during January.  Like horned owls and bald eagles, red-tails add sticks, then grass, to their nurseries every year.  And like the owls and eagles, female red-tails lay one to three eggs in their cradles, one about every few days.  The chicks, therefore, hatch every few days.
     These three kinds of large birds have similar reproductive habits.  Females of each species laying an egg every few days dictates that the chicks hatch one every few days.  The oldest youngster in each brood has already grown before the last baby hatches.  If the parents are finding plenty of prey animals there is no problem.  But if prey is scarce, the oldest youngster per brood gets most of the food coming to the nest.  But the youngest baby gets little or no food and will starve to death.  Staggering egg laying in predatory birds is a built-in population control when food is scarce.
     Male red foxes court in woods and over fields during January, even during the day, sometimes.  I have been thrilled to see several handsome red foxes trotting alone over open farmland by day in January in their search for mates.  And I've been happy to experience a few boisterous pairs of red foxes, one at a time, cavorting together in fields during the day in January.       
     Female red foxes deliver young in March down abandoned wood chuck holes in fields, woods and hedgerows, or in wood piles or brush piles in those same habitats.  Young foxes emerge from their dens during the latter part of April and are independently hunting rodents and other creatures by mid-summer.
     Gray squirrels in this area mate in January.  Many times during that wintry month, I've watched three or four male grays exuberantly and speedily chase an equally fast female gray around a tree or across the ground.  It's always a quick, rough and tumble pursuit until the female submits to mating.  About six weeks later, each female gray gives birth to young in her insulating tree cavity or nest of dead leaves among twigs in the treetops.
     These are some of the earliest of courtships in the Middle Atlantic States.  The species involved reproduce early so there progeny have a good chance of getting food and becoming established before the hardships of the next winter strikes.