Two kinds of deciduous trees in the Middle Atlantic States have decorative seed balls persisting through winter. Those species are sycamores and sweet gums. Each type of tree has several beauties, but their seed balls is what they have in common. Each ball of both species has a long, slender stem like pendant earrings or jewelry.
Sycamore trees have pale-gray bark that peels off in patches, revealing the young, lighter bark underneath. That falling away of the older bark causes a distinctive and unique, mottled appearance on sycamores' trunks and limbs. And since this species mostly inhabits floodplains along rivers and creeks, where it is an associate of black walnut trees, silver maple trees and ash-leafed maple trees, sycamores' patterned bark indicates the presence of water.
Sycamores are one of the most massive and magnificent of trees in eastern North America. They can grow to be over 80 feet tall and up to eight feet in diameter at the base. And each tree's many one-inch, beige seed balls are composed of many seeds attached to a hard, rounded "button" that gives this species its name of buttonwood. Each seed has fluff that carries it away on the wind. Most seeds never sprout because they are eaten by mice and small, seed-eating birds, including a variety of wintering finches and sparrows.
The leaves of sweet gum trees have five, sharp-pointed lobes in a unique design. Sweet gum foliage is striking in October, with red, yellow and maroon colors, usually all on the same tree. Sweet gums grow best on floodplains, but also do well in moist, upland soil. This species is often planted as a shade tree on lawns, for its lovely shapes and beautiful autumn leaves. It can grow up to 80 feet tall, with a pyramidal shape.
Each of the many seed balls on each sweet gum tree is about an inch across. Each ball has several woody, sharp-pointed capsules, which gives it a bristly or spiny appearance. Tiny, dark seeds fall out of those little, dark-brown containers when they open, but most of those seeds are eaten by mice and small, seed-eating birds, including a variety of wintering finches and sparrows. Those birds often hang up-side-down on the seed balls still on the trees to eat the seeds in the openings. And those birds add much beauty and interest to sweet gum trees in winter.
Sycamores and sweet gums have decorative, dangling seed balls through winter. Those balls add beauty to the trees and the habitats they inhabit.
Monday, February 29, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Yellow Perches and Walleyes
Yellow perch are a kind of edible game fish commonly sought after by people fishing through the ice of the several human-made impoundments in southeastern Pennsylvania, as across much of the United States. Fishermen drill round holes through the ice to sink their baited hooks into the water.
Yellow perch are active through the year, including in winter. And, as their name implies, they are a member of the perch family, as are walleyes, saugers and over 120 species of darters, which are minnow-like.
The perch family inhabits North America and Eurasia, though darters are strictly North American. Members of this family are long and lean for easy, streamlined slipping through the water, and have two dorsal fins on their backs, which is their single most important identifying characteristic as a family of fish.
Yellow perch are native to southeastern Pennsylvania. They are up to a foot long, with olive-green on top and alternating olive-green and yellow-green striping on their flanks. Their fins are yellow, except breeding males have orange fins. They are equally at home on warm or cool lakes.
Yellow perch spawn in water five to ten feet deep in spring. Each female has a few male suitors with her when she lays up to 20,000 gelatin eggs draped in strings over submerged vegetation, brush on the bottom and gravelly shorelines. The male perch fertilize her eggs with their milt. The eggs and young perch receive no parental care at all. The hatchlings form schools in open water and near the bottoms of the shallows. There is safety in great numbers. They eat zooplankton and tiny insect larvae, and are, in turn, consumed by larger fish, including older yellow perch. Adult perch ingest smaller fish and a variety of aquatic invertebrates.
Walleye are originally from the Mississippi River Watershed, including the Ohio River. And they have been stocked in other parts of North America, including eastern Pennsylvania. They are called "walleye" because of their large, "milky-white" eyes that see well in the dark. Walleyes can grow to be up to three feet long and are blue-gray to olive-brown. They prefer cool, deep waters with gravelly bottoms in large lakes and rivers and are an excellent game fish with delicious meat, as does the perch.
Walleye spawn at night in early spring. Each spawning female has a few males around her ready to fertilize her eggs. Each female lays thousands of eggs over gravel in shallow water. The hatchlings form schools of themselves and eat zooplankton, and later invertebrates and small fish. Adults consume larger fish, mostly.
Yellow perch and walleyes are related game fish with fine-tasting flesh. And the perch are eagerly sought by many fisherman through the ice of impoundments.
Yellow perch are active through the year, including in winter. And, as their name implies, they are a member of the perch family, as are walleyes, saugers and over 120 species of darters, which are minnow-like.
The perch family inhabits North America and Eurasia, though darters are strictly North American. Members of this family are long and lean for easy, streamlined slipping through the water, and have two dorsal fins on their backs, which is their single most important identifying characteristic as a family of fish.
Yellow perch are native to southeastern Pennsylvania. They are up to a foot long, with olive-green on top and alternating olive-green and yellow-green striping on their flanks. Their fins are yellow, except breeding males have orange fins. They are equally at home on warm or cool lakes.
Yellow perch spawn in water five to ten feet deep in spring. Each female has a few male suitors with her when she lays up to 20,000 gelatin eggs draped in strings over submerged vegetation, brush on the bottom and gravelly shorelines. The male perch fertilize her eggs with their milt. The eggs and young perch receive no parental care at all. The hatchlings form schools in open water and near the bottoms of the shallows. There is safety in great numbers. They eat zooplankton and tiny insect larvae, and are, in turn, consumed by larger fish, including older yellow perch. Adult perch ingest smaller fish and a variety of aquatic invertebrates.
Walleye are originally from the Mississippi River Watershed, including the Ohio River. And they have been stocked in other parts of North America, including eastern Pennsylvania. They are called "walleye" because of their large, "milky-white" eyes that see well in the dark. Walleyes can grow to be up to three feet long and are blue-gray to olive-brown. They prefer cool, deep waters with gravelly bottoms in large lakes and rivers and are an excellent game fish with delicious meat, as does the perch.
Walleye spawn at night in early spring. Each spawning female has a few males around her ready to fertilize her eggs. Each female lays thousands of eggs over gravel in shallow water. The hatchlings form schools of themselves and eat zooplankton, and later invertebrates and small fish. Adults consume larger fish, mostly.
Yellow perch and walleyes are related game fish with fine-tasting flesh. And the perch are eagerly sought by many fisherman through the ice of impoundments.
Friday, February 26, 2016
Red-Tails and Kestrels are Everywhere
Red-tails and American kestrels are common hawks in southeastern Pennsylvania, as throughout most of North America, the year around. Both species are adaptable, the main reason they are abundant. Both mostly inhabit farmland, but red-tails also live in woodland edges, and older suburban areas where there is an abundance of gray squirrels. Both perch along roadsides to watch for mice and other prey animals, a place where they are readily seen. Many individuals of these species of raptors annually nest here, while others winter here. Still other birds of these species pass through this area in migration, in big numbers, during spring and autumn. These species are north-bound during March and April. And kestrels go south from August through October, while red-tails mostly migrate south during October and November.
Red-tails are soaring hawks (buteos). They have that name because adults have reddish-orange tails when they are at least three years old.
Red-tailed hawks probably originally lived and nested in woodland clearings in eastern North American during the days of American Indians. But these hawks expanded their range and numbers as the forests were cleared by European colonists to make croplands. Today red-tails are most likely to hatch young in stick, platform cradles in lone trees in fields and in older suburban areas and towns with their tall trees.
Most red-tails in southeastern Pennsylvania today spend winter nights in the shelter of tall spruce trees with their densely-needled boughs that block the cold wind. All spruces in this part of Pennsylvania were planted on lawns, as this area has no native spruces.
Late in winter afternoons, one can see one or a few red-tails soaring and gliding low through suburbs and towns on their ways to needled roost trees. And if one watches those same spruce trees early the next morning, the hawks can be spotted exiting them and cruising out to fields or suburbs where they attempt to catch mice and squirrels.
American kestrels are the smallest and most attractive species of falcon in North America. They must have evolved in open habitats because they seem to prefer that niche to this day. And they developed the trait of hovering into the wind just enough to hold a stationary position in the air while watching the ground for mice, grasshoppers and other small prey. They would only have to flutter into the wind in habitats with no lofty perches, such as trees. But they do perch on tree twigs in open habitats, where trees are available, and roadside wires, to look for prey.
Roadside banks in farmland are riddled with the runways and tunnels of field voles (a kind of mouse) and brown rats. Red-tails and kestrels regularly patrol those banks from the air, nearby trees and roadside wires in hopes of catching some of those rodents. But those raptors need to be careful to avoid approaching traffic when they drop to the roadsides to snare rodents.
Streambank fencing along waterways offers more shelter and food for ducks, rodents, larger insects, a variety of birds and other kinds of critters adapted to agricultural areas. Some of those creatures will feed red-tails and kestrels the year around.
American kestrels originally nested in abandoned woodpecker holes and other tree cavities, and still do. But they have also adapted to hatching offspring in barns and bird boxes erected especially for them and screech owls. Those human-made nesting hollows helped increase the numbers of kestrels and screech owls, though their populations fluctuate at times because of numerous factors.
Red-tails and kestrels are everywhere the year around. We need only to get outside and look for these striking and interesting hawk species.
Red-tails are soaring hawks (buteos). They have that name because adults have reddish-orange tails when they are at least three years old.
Red-tailed hawks probably originally lived and nested in woodland clearings in eastern North American during the days of American Indians. But these hawks expanded their range and numbers as the forests were cleared by European colonists to make croplands. Today red-tails are most likely to hatch young in stick, platform cradles in lone trees in fields and in older suburban areas and towns with their tall trees.
Most red-tails in southeastern Pennsylvania today spend winter nights in the shelter of tall spruce trees with their densely-needled boughs that block the cold wind. All spruces in this part of Pennsylvania were planted on lawns, as this area has no native spruces.
Late in winter afternoons, one can see one or a few red-tails soaring and gliding low through suburbs and towns on their ways to needled roost trees. And if one watches those same spruce trees early the next morning, the hawks can be spotted exiting them and cruising out to fields or suburbs where they attempt to catch mice and squirrels.
American kestrels are the smallest and most attractive species of falcon in North America. They must have evolved in open habitats because they seem to prefer that niche to this day. And they developed the trait of hovering into the wind just enough to hold a stationary position in the air while watching the ground for mice, grasshoppers and other small prey. They would only have to flutter into the wind in habitats with no lofty perches, such as trees. But they do perch on tree twigs in open habitats, where trees are available, and roadside wires, to look for prey.
Roadside banks in farmland are riddled with the runways and tunnels of field voles (a kind of mouse) and brown rats. Red-tails and kestrels regularly patrol those banks from the air, nearby trees and roadside wires in hopes of catching some of those rodents. But those raptors need to be careful to avoid approaching traffic when they drop to the roadsides to snare rodents.
Streambank fencing along waterways offers more shelter and food for ducks, rodents, larger insects, a variety of birds and other kinds of critters adapted to agricultural areas. Some of those creatures will feed red-tails and kestrels the year around.
American kestrels originally nested in abandoned woodpecker holes and other tree cavities, and still do. But they have also adapted to hatching offspring in barns and bird boxes erected especially for them and screech owls. Those human-made nesting hollows helped increase the numbers of kestrels and screech owls, though their populations fluctuate at times because of numerous factors.
Red-tails and kestrels are everywhere the year around. We need only to get outside and look for these striking and interesting hawk species.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Early-Blooming Woody Plants
Every February, I look forward to the blooming of pussy willow shrubs and silver maple trees as early signs of spring's arrival in southeastern Pennsylvania. Both these woody plants have lovely flowers by the end of February or into early March, depending on prevailing temperatures. They are two of the earliest plants with bark to commonly blossom in this area.
Lengthening amounts of daylight each succeeding day in January and February and higher average temperatures toward the end of February are the stimuli to awaken the flower buds of these species. Those buds swell and open within a few days, lifting many a human spirit weary of winter.
The beautiful and decorative "furry", gray catkins we see annually on pussy willows are male flowers on male plants. Eventually those striking catkins produce yellow pollen that spreads by wind to female flowers. Female pussy willows, incidentally, don't bear those popular catkins and are not introduced to lawns.
Most pussy willows I see here have been planted on lawns. They can either be bought as complete plants from tree nurseries, or twigs can be cut from bushes before their leaves grow and placed in water. Bunches of pussy willow stems can be bought for home decorations. But placed in water, those still-living twigs grow roots below the water line and leaves above the water. How do the twigs know where the water line is? As roots grow on the twigs, add soil to the water, little by little, until the container has mud in it. Then plant the twigs with leaves, and roots in the mud, outdoors and water until the plant is established and develops on its own. Pussy willows grow rapidly, with many slender limbs and twigs, and need to be trimmed back at times.
Silver maples are native trees in eastern North America. They grow best on floodplains along creeks and rivers. Their clusters of small flowers late in February and into early March are reddish and yellow, making silver maples decorative for a couple of weeks on their native floodplains where they tolerate occasional flooding, and lawns where they were planted. This species can make canopies of floodplains dull-red with their blossoms, and help indicate that the vernal season has arrived.
Silver maples can become huge and riddled with cavities where wind ripped limbs off the trees, exposing the wood beneath to agents of decay. Those hollows offer homes and nurseries to a variety of wildlife, including barred owls, screech owls, wood ducks, raccoons, gray squirrels and others.
Silver maples have deeply-lobed leaves that are silvery underneath, giving this species its common name. Large specimens have shaggy bark; long, thin strips of bark that are loose at the ends.
This species grows quickly, but breaks down easily, especially in wind, scattering limbs and twigs everywhere. It is not suited for lawns. But the sap of silver maples can be boiled down to make pure maple syrup. Unfortunately, it takes at least 80 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup, twice what it takes to make syrup from sugar maple trees.
Look for pussy willow catkins and silver maple flowers this spring. They help give an emotional lift to human souls tired of the hardships of winter.
Lengthening amounts of daylight each succeeding day in January and February and higher average temperatures toward the end of February are the stimuli to awaken the flower buds of these species. Those buds swell and open within a few days, lifting many a human spirit weary of winter.
The beautiful and decorative "furry", gray catkins we see annually on pussy willows are male flowers on male plants. Eventually those striking catkins produce yellow pollen that spreads by wind to female flowers. Female pussy willows, incidentally, don't bear those popular catkins and are not introduced to lawns.
Most pussy willows I see here have been planted on lawns. They can either be bought as complete plants from tree nurseries, or twigs can be cut from bushes before their leaves grow and placed in water. Bunches of pussy willow stems can be bought for home decorations. But placed in water, those still-living twigs grow roots below the water line and leaves above the water. How do the twigs know where the water line is? As roots grow on the twigs, add soil to the water, little by little, until the container has mud in it. Then plant the twigs with leaves, and roots in the mud, outdoors and water until the plant is established and develops on its own. Pussy willows grow rapidly, with many slender limbs and twigs, and need to be trimmed back at times.
Silver maples are native trees in eastern North America. They grow best on floodplains along creeks and rivers. Their clusters of small flowers late in February and into early March are reddish and yellow, making silver maples decorative for a couple of weeks on their native floodplains where they tolerate occasional flooding, and lawns where they were planted. This species can make canopies of floodplains dull-red with their blossoms, and help indicate that the vernal season has arrived.
Silver maples can become huge and riddled with cavities where wind ripped limbs off the trees, exposing the wood beneath to agents of decay. Those hollows offer homes and nurseries to a variety of wildlife, including barred owls, screech owls, wood ducks, raccoons, gray squirrels and others.
Silver maples have deeply-lobed leaves that are silvery underneath, giving this species its common name. Large specimens have shaggy bark; long, thin strips of bark that are loose at the ends.
This species grows quickly, but breaks down easily, especially in wind, scattering limbs and twigs everywhere. It is not suited for lawns. But the sap of silver maples can be boiled down to make pure maple syrup. Unfortunately, it takes at least 80 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup, twice what it takes to make syrup from sugar maple trees.
Look for pussy willow catkins and silver maple flowers this spring. They help give an emotional lift to human souls tired of the hardships of winter.
Monday, February 22, 2016
The Beauty of Nature
The beauty of nature is everywhere in the universe, all the time. And that natural beauty changes with every second through infinity. Nature is never stagnant, but always has fresh intrigues.
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Spring is Coming
To me, spring arrives in southeastern Pennsylvania around the middle of February, biologically speaking. Then certain small hardy flowers, including snow drops and winter aconites bloom, waterfowl and blackbirds start their migrations north to their nesting grounds and local, permanent resident male birds begin singing to establish breeding territories and attract mates. The birds see the lengthening amounts of daylight each succeeding day in January, which stirs their hormones and makes them want to reproduce. This year, 2016, I kept a diary of natural happenings that indicate that spring is coming to southeastern Pennsylvania.
On February third, I heard a male Carolina wren singing and male mourning doves cooing in our suburban neighborhood. The wren survived the near-record snow storm we had here just a couple of weeks ago, partly because it sheltered and probably found invertebrates under a neighbors' porch. This wren also ate sunflower seeds from the neighbors' bird feeder.
Mourning doves are always one of the first resident birds to sing, usually in the beginning of February. I am always happy to hear the first doves cooing.
Later that day I drove through Lancaster County farmland to see what creatures were stirring. Among other wintering, cropland birds, I saw a lone pair of mallards investigating a slow section of stream. It looked like they were searching for a nesting spot, a sure sign of the coming spring. Later, I saw a pair of American kestrels perched close together on a roadside wire, another sign of spring's coming. I know the kestrels were male and female because of differences in size and plumage coloration. There were a few large trees with hollows in them near where I saw the kestrels.
On February four, I saw about 50 migrant snow geese with around 160 resident Canada geese and a score of mallard ducks in a partly-flooded winter rye field and a harvested corn field in a broad, farmland valley about a mile south of New Holland, Lancaster County. The snow geese had not been there all winter, leading me to believe their sudden presence was a symbol of the coming vernal season. The geese and ducks were feeding peacefully until an adult bald eagle flew over them. Then the geese and ducks took flight in panic. The Canadas and mallards soon landed again on the same fields, but the cautious snows circled the fields several times before finally landing among the Canadas.
Every square inch of that valley is devoted to human activities. Yet, at times, during every February and March, migrating snow geese and tundra swans land in that valley for a few days to eat waste corn kernels and the green shoots of winter rye.
On February eight, I was driving through Lancaster County cropland and saw a few pairs of red-tailed hawks perched together in trees here and there. And I saw a pair of black vultures investigating crevices in a rocky wall of an abandoned quarry for a nesting site. I took those pairs of birds as symbols of the coming spring.
Five thousand snow geese were reported to be on the main lake at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area on February ninth. They didn't stay long because the lake was mostly frozen, but their sudden presence after a winter of absence indicated another sign of the coming vernal season.
On February 14 I noticed more mourning doves locally than I had all winter. Apparently some doves move out of this area in fall, but come back when the daylight per day gets longer. Now male northern cardinals are singing. I also saw some patches of snow drops and winter aconites blooming on lawns and flower beds. The bald eagles that have a nest outside Hanover, Pennsylvania, and we can see on computers, are now sitting on their nest in preparation of laying eggs. Other pairs of local bald eagles are already setting on eggs. And there is a bit of light in the western sky until about 6:30 P M. Now is the time to start looking for the courtship flights of male American woodcocks in clearings near bottomland woods just after sunset.
On February 15, we had light snow in the afternoon, freezing rain overnight and rain on the 16th with temperatures up to 43 degrees. On the 15th I saw several each of black ducks and common merganser ducks on a stretch of Mill Creek where they had not been all winter, indicating to me they are restless and on the move. And some of the Amish farmers have one gallon plastic jugs on spiles drilled under the bark of maple trees to catch leaking sap they will boil down to pure maple syrup.
When naturalist-writer John Burroughs wrote about his maple sugaring experiences in the Hudson Valley of New York State he wrote "Next week or the next we will plow and do other sober work on the farm, but this week we will picnic among the maples and our camp fires shall be an incense to spring".
Starting on February 16th, temperatures will warm for several days into next week. With increased daylight each succeeding day and warmer temperatures, spring will start to burst forth in this area, in spite of what the human calendar says. To me, on the 16th, spring is here!
On February third, I heard a male Carolina wren singing and male mourning doves cooing in our suburban neighborhood. The wren survived the near-record snow storm we had here just a couple of weeks ago, partly because it sheltered and probably found invertebrates under a neighbors' porch. This wren also ate sunflower seeds from the neighbors' bird feeder.
Mourning doves are always one of the first resident birds to sing, usually in the beginning of February. I am always happy to hear the first doves cooing.
Later that day I drove through Lancaster County farmland to see what creatures were stirring. Among other wintering, cropland birds, I saw a lone pair of mallards investigating a slow section of stream. It looked like they were searching for a nesting spot, a sure sign of the coming spring. Later, I saw a pair of American kestrels perched close together on a roadside wire, another sign of spring's coming. I know the kestrels were male and female because of differences in size and plumage coloration. There were a few large trees with hollows in them near where I saw the kestrels.
On February four, I saw about 50 migrant snow geese with around 160 resident Canada geese and a score of mallard ducks in a partly-flooded winter rye field and a harvested corn field in a broad, farmland valley about a mile south of New Holland, Lancaster County. The snow geese had not been there all winter, leading me to believe their sudden presence was a symbol of the coming vernal season. The geese and ducks were feeding peacefully until an adult bald eagle flew over them. Then the geese and ducks took flight in panic. The Canadas and mallards soon landed again on the same fields, but the cautious snows circled the fields several times before finally landing among the Canadas.
Every square inch of that valley is devoted to human activities. Yet, at times, during every February and March, migrating snow geese and tundra swans land in that valley for a few days to eat waste corn kernels and the green shoots of winter rye.
On February eight, I was driving through Lancaster County cropland and saw a few pairs of red-tailed hawks perched together in trees here and there. And I saw a pair of black vultures investigating crevices in a rocky wall of an abandoned quarry for a nesting site. I took those pairs of birds as symbols of the coming spring.
Five thousand snow geese were reported to be on the main lake at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area on February ninth. They didn't stay long because the lake was mostly frozen, but their sudden presence after a winter of absence indicated another sign of the coming vernal season.
On February 14 I noticed more mourning doves locally than I had all winter. Apparently some doves move out of this area in fall, but come back when the daylight per day gets longer. Now male northern cardinals are singing. I also saw some patches of snow drops and winter aconites blooming on lawns and flower beds. The bald eagles that have a nest outside Hanover, Pennsylvania, and we can see on computers, are now sitting on their nest in preparation of laying eggs. Other pairs of local bald eagles are already setting on eggs. And there is a bit of light in the western sky until about 6:30 P M. Now is the time to start looking for the courtship flights of male American woodcocks in clearings near bottomland woods just after sunset.
On February 15, we had light snow in the afternoon, freezing rain overnight and rain on the 16th with temperatures up to 43 degrees. On the 15th I saw several each of black ducks and common merganser ducks on a stretch of Mill Creek where they had not been all winter, indicating to me they are restless and on the move. And some of the Amish farmers have one gallon plastic jugs on spiles drilled under the bark of maple trees to catch leaking sap they will boil down to pure maple syrup.
When naturalist-writer John Burroughs wrote about his maple sugaring experiences in the Hudson Valley of New York State he wrote "Next week or the next we will plow and do other sober work on the farm, but this week we will picnic among the maples and our camp fires shall be an incense to spring".
Starting on February 16th, temperatures will warm for several days into next week. With increased daylight each succeeding day and warmer temperatures, spring will start to burst forth in this area, in spite of what the human calendar says. To me, on the 16th, spring is here!
Friday, February 19, 2016
Surviving Flooded Meadows
Close to an inch of rain fell on Lancaster County, Pennsylvania on February 16, 2016, which melted much of the snow. The result of the rainfall and melting snow was overflowing waterways and many puddles in several meadows and fields in local cropland.
Early in the afternoon of the 16th, as the rain was ceasing, I took a drive through some of the county's farmland to see the effects the slight flooding had on wildlife. I saw about 50 Canada geese grazing on the pasture's short grass and around 100 mallard ducks milling about in the swollen stream in that meadow. And there were a dozen rock pigeons walking over a nearby lawn and a pair of red-tailed hawks perched on a dead tree in the pasture.
Suddenly, one of the hawks left its perch and skimmed low across the meadow toward the stream. I thought it was going to grab one of the mallards. But the hawk overshot the waterway and landed on the grass beside the water. Then it reached down with its beak and came up with a meadow mouse that it promptly swallowed headfirst and whole. Apparently, the mouse was flooded out of its home and made vulnerable to predators. But what really caught my attention was the mallards didn't fly away in fright. In fact, they seemed curious about what the hawk was doing as they all paddled enough to hold their place in the stream where the hawk landed.
As I moved on, the rain stopped, but fog developed where snow still covered the ground. Warm, southerly breezes over cold snow created the fog that made the landscape all the more beautiful and interesting.
The sky quickly cleared as I drove along. And many puffy, cumulus clouds made the sky wild-looking, yet intriguing and attractive.
As I passed another partly-inundated pasture with a swollen stream, I saw about 50 Canada geese, roughly 60 mallards and a few each of black ducks and American wigeon ducks. Those birds were eating vegetation from the over-flowing brook, puddles and nearby, soggy fields. And a muskrat, that was flooded out of its home, was wandering over a field, making it vulnerable to red-tailed hawks.
The last pasture I visited is many acres in size and straddles Mill Creek. It, too, was partly flooded, and harbored a nice variety of birds, including hundreds of stately Canada geese, a score of snow geese, and a handful each of mallards, black ducks and common merganser ducks on the creek, in the puddles and on the soggy soil. While I was there, several noisy flocks of Canada geese circled this pasture and finally floated down majestically into the wind to join their relatives on the spongy ground, where they rested, preened and socialized.
I saw a belted kingfisher perched on a limb by the creek as he watched the water for small fish to eat. A great blue heron stood hunched on shore, apparently resting between fishing forays in the creek. A flock of rock pigeons fluttered down to a puddle to drink while a scattered group of wintering American robins ran and stopped, ran and stopped across the short-grass meadow in search of earthworms and other invertebrates brought to the surface by the excess water in the ground. And I saw another displaced muskrat meander across the pasture.
And I saw a magnificent adult bald eagle perched on a limb of a large tree along the creek in the back of the meadow. I knew there was a large, bulky eagle nest of sticks in a huge sycamore tree by the creek. When I looked at the stick cradle with 16 power binoculars, I saw the white head of another bald eagle on the nest, probably incubating an egg or eggs.
Obviously, the water birds fared well in the slight flooding. But mice and muskrats were made vulnerable to predators when they were flooded out of their homes in the grass and stream banks of inundated pastures. Weather, particularly, extreme weather, affects wildlife. Wild creatures have to be adaptable and hardy to survive weather, predators and other problems they encounter in their daily lives.
Early in the afternoon of the 16th, as the rain was ceasing, I took a drive through some of the county's farmland to see the effects the slight flooding had on wildlife. I saw about 50 Canada geese grazing on the pasture's short grass and around 100 mallard ducks milling about in the swollen stream in that meadow. And there were a dozen rock pigeons walking over a nearby lawn and a pair of red-tailed hawks perched on a dead tree in the pasture.
Suddenly, one of the hawks left its perch and skimmed low across the meadow toward the stream. I thought it was going to grab one of the mallards. But the hawk overshot the waterway and landed on the grass beside the water. Then it reached down with its beak and came up with a meadow mouse that it promptly swallowed headfirst and whole. Apparently, the mouse was flooded out of its home and made vulnerable to predators. But what really caught my attention was the mallards didn't fly away in fright. In fact, they seemed curious about what the hawk was doing as they all paddled enough to hold their place in the stream where the hawk landed.
As I moved on, the rain stopped, but fog developed where snow still covered the ground. Warm, southerly breezes over cold snow created the fog that made the landscape all the more beautiful and interesting.
The sky quickly cleared as I drove along. And many puffy, cumulus clouds made the sky wild-looking, yet intriguing and attractive.
As I passed another partly-inundated pasture with a swollen stream, I saw about 50 Canada geese, roughly 60 mallards and a few each of black ducks and American wigeon ducks. Those birds were eating vegetation from the over-flowing brook, puddles and nearby, soggy fields. And a muskrat, that was flooded out of its home, was wandering over a field, making it vulnerable to red-tailed hawks.
The last pasture I visited is many acres in size and straddles Mill Creek. It, too, was partly flooded, and harbored a nice variety of birds, including hundreds of stately Canada geese, a score of snow geese, and a handful each of mallards, black ducks and common merganser ducks on the creek, in the puddles and on the soggy soil. While I was there, several noisy flocks of Canada geese circled this pasture and finally floated down majestically into the wind to join their relatives on the spongy ground, where they rested, preened and socialized.
I saw a belted kingfisher perched on a limb by the creek as he watched the water for small fish to eat. A great blue heron stood hunched on shore, apparently resting between fishing forays in the creek. A flock of rock pigeons fluttered down to a puddle to drink while a scattered group of wintering American robins ran and stopped, ran and stopped across the short-grass meadow in search of earthworms and other invertebrates brought to the surface by the excess water in the ground. And I saw another displaced muskrat meander across the pasture.
And I saw a magnificent adult bald eagle perched on a limb of a large tree along the creek in the back of the meadow. I knew there was a large, bulky eagle nest of sticks in a huge sycamore tree by the creek. When I looked at the stick cradle with 16 power binoculars, I saw the white head of another bald eagle on the nest, probably incubating an egg or eggs.
Obviously, the water birds fared well in the slight flooding. But mice and muskrats were made vulnerable to predators when they were flooded out of their homes in the grass and stream banks of inundated pastures. Weather, particularly, extreme weather, affects wildlife. Wild creatures have to be adaptable and hardy to survive weather, predators and other problems they encounter in their daily lives.
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