Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
Who’s That Singing? Easily Recognized Bird Song
Tuesday, May 11th, 2010
Eastern Phoebe; photo by Bruce Dayton
I stopped my cadre of 5th graders right under the tree where a songster was loud and distinct. “Listen to this fantastic bird, my friends,” I urged excitedly, and the group of 23 inner-city kids fell silent. After listening a few seconds I whispered, “This awesome bird sings his name. He’s called a Phoebe. Do you hear him sing “Phoebe” over and over?” Again, we all listen intently, and I see smiles creep across faces.
“Yea, I hear it.”
“That’s what he says.”
Other murmured phrases and nods of recognition ripple through my rapt audience.
I can’t really memorize bird song very well. I’m relieved to say I’m not the only one. The best way to distinguish and remember specific bird song is to translate it into English. It is not only easier to describe to kids (and adults) but recognizable in our brains.
There are a number of mnemonics that are commonly associated with certain birds. Here is a list of some birds you may hear this month, and the mnemonic of what their song sounds like:
American Robin – “cheery-up, cheery-o, cheery-up, cheerily”
Yellow warbler – “Sweet Sweet, Sweet I am so sweet”
Yellow warbler
Eastern towhee – “Drink your teeeeeea”
Black throated green warbler – Zee Zee Zee zoo Zeee”
Barred owl – “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?”
Whip-poor-will – “WHIP-poor-WILL, WHIP-poor-WILL WHIP-poorWILL…“
Eastern Wood-Pewee – “Pee-ah-wee Pee-ah-wee”
Eastern Phoebe – “Fee-bbbbbe Fee-bbbbbe”
Black-capped Chickadee –
Call: “Chick-a-dee-dee-dee”
Song: “Hey-sweetie”
Warbling Vireo – “If I SEES you, I will SEIZE you, and I’ll SQUEEZE you till you SQUIRT”
Red-eyed Vireo – “Here I am. Where are you? Over here. Look up now. Do you see?“
Tufted Titmouse – “Peter-peter-peter. Peter-peter-peter.”
Carolina Wren – “tea kettle tea kettle tea kettle tea kettle tea kettle.” (loud and fast)
Brown Thrasher – “Spring’s here, spring’s here, plant it plant it, in the ground, in the ground, cover it up, cover it up…” (doublet after doublet; each doublet seldom repeated)
Chestnut-sided Warbler – “very very very very pleased-to-meet-you” (quite fast)
Ovenbird – “teacher teacher teacher teacher” (with each “teacher” progressively louder)
Common Yellowthroat – “Which-i-ty which-i-ty, which-i-ty, which-i-ty
White-throated sparrow – “Poor Sam Peabody Peabody Peabody” or “Oh Sweet Canada Canada Canada” (depending on your nationality of course)
Red-winged Blackbird – “Honk-a-reeeeee”
Eastern Meadowlark – “spring of the year”
American Goldfinch – “per-chick-a-ree”
Here are some resources to further your study of birdsong:
The Backyard Birdsong Guide, by Donald Kroodsma – an audio field guide. Lets you listen to the birdsong with a push of the button.
Lang Elliott’s Naturesound Studio
The Cornell University Lab of Ornithology’s Macaulay Library of Bird Song
Exploring the Language of Nature with Jon Young
May the sound of a familiar songster bring a smile to your face too.
All in a days work for Bloodroot
Saturday, April 24th, 2010
Sanguinaria canadensis (Bloodroot)
Can you find a more apt name for this plant whose roots ooze red or
Bloodroot root
orange sap? I think not. This early bloomer is already in seed in my area, but in the last few weeks, the brilliant white blossoms dotted woodland slopes and stream sides. The single protective leaf that wraps around the blossom continues to grow even after pollination duties are fulfilled.
American Indians used Red Pucoon, as it is also called, for medicinal and practical uses. Here are a few:
*Paint skin and dye cloth and baskets
Bloodroot root cross section
*Repel insects and treat rattlesnake bites
*Treat cramps, induce an abortion, and induce bleeding
Early settlers used it for the same purposes, plus a few more:
*A few drops of the sap on a sugar cube was used as a cough drop
*Treat skin ailments
*Treat sick mules
The efficacy of these medicinal purposes has not proved out. Taking this plant internally is a bad idea as the roots are poisonous. Just as well. It is too fantastic a wildflower to go digging up its roots all the time.
Mute Swan Song
Monday, April 12th, 2010Swan Song is the term used when, after a lifetime of ineffectual silence, a heart-wrenching beautiful song is sung just before death. This charming folklore is attributed to the beautiful Mute Swan. Despite the fact that the mute swan makes hisses, grunts and other noises throughout its life, it doesn’t revert to a song before dying. The name does apply however, when comparing it to other species of swans that are noisier than the mute swan.
Being native to Europe and Asia, the Mute Swan has been introduced to North America and is expanding. I visited Irondequoit Bay off of Lake Ontario in New York last week and counted no less than 75 birds hanging out. Thought I’d share some pics.
Mute Swan on Irondequoit Bay
Mute Swan
Banded Male with Female
Male Mute Swan - note prominent nob
Female Mute Swan - note less prominent nob
Wierd Uses for Wildflowers
Sunday, April 11th, 2010Throughout history and with various cultures, the plant world was the pharmacopoeia for ailments. Not only that, but some plants were believed to hold powers that could do things besides provide treatment. Here is a listing of some of the more interesting uses of wildflowers I’ve found:
False hellebore
*False Hellebore was used to call rain, to jinx people and to kill sea monsters.
Columbine flower
*The Meskwaki Indians used a decoction of Columbine root to heighten their powers of persuasion either at council meetings or when they were trading.
*Iroquois used Columbine to detect witchcraft.
Jack-in-the-Pulpit seeds
*Folklore relays that a Jack-in-the-pulpit seed can predict the outcome of a sick person. The person will recover if the seed, when dropped into water, spins around 4 times clockwise.
Trillium root
*A Native American superstition claimed a Trillium root, served by a young woman to a man would make him fall in love with her.
Robins are Coming – Or Did They Never Leave?
Monday, March 8th, 2010
Thank you to Mulletar for this super photo of an American Robin in Winter
The American Robin is a migratory bird. After all, we’ve named it Turdus migratorius. Or is it?
Birds gather in flocks in the fall and fly to Texas or the Gulf states, often as far as Bermuda or Guatamala. They go to find adequate nourishment. Check any field guide and it will show you winter range and summer range.
Yet New Englanders like me, Wisconsin-ites, cold-hearty Canadians and others in cold northern climes report more and more frequent sightings of American Robins in winter. What is going on? Has something changed, or are there just crazy birds who linger?
Some of these winter birds might be more northerly populations that come southward to what is still a pretty snowy, cold place. If you see some robins with a nearly black back, brighter red breast, more prominent white eye ring and white throat streaking, you are probably seeing the northern race of the American Robin, coming down from Labrador or Newfoundland.
Also, research suggests that some resident robins simply decide to hang out for the winter if there is adequate food. They then have first dibs on the best territories before everyone else comes back. Fifty to 100 birds may flock together seeking food sources. Chances are, when you see robins in the winter, it isn’t just one or two, it’s a whole flock.
One thing going for these resourceful birds is their flexible diets. Summertime’s abundance of worms and insects suits their needs completely then. In the winter, robins change to an herbivorous diet, eating berries and other available fruits. Bittersweet, crabapples, rose hips, mountain ash, sumac, hawthorne, and other berries are eaten. If you put strawberries, raspberries, raisins, blueberries, apple pieces and other fruits out in the winter, robins might happen upon them and enjoy your bounty.
March is when the migrants generally return. Watch the weather and notice when the weekly temperature averages 37 degrees Fahrenheit. You’ll soon see robins if the snow cover is gone. Robins tend to appear with warm fronts, when rain drives worms from the thawing ground.
Cades Cove Loop Road Closure
Friday, March 5th, 2010
Cars on Cades Cove Loop Road
Are you a Cove-ophile? If you just can’t get enough of Cades Cove in Great Smoky Mountains National Park and go back time and time again, you’re a Cove-ophile. Maybe its the mountain vistas, the tranquil cabins, the prospect of seeing a bear or two, graceful deer grazing in the mist, or an appreciation of days gone by. There is certainly a mystique here. Like eating a single potato chip, one taste is often simply not enough.
Alas, starting March 1st, the Cades Cove Loop Road – one of the busiest roads in the National Park System – will be getting a face-lift. After having served an average of 2 million visitors every year for the past 30 years, the road has been sorely in need of major maintenance. No one, not even Cove-ophiles are allowed.The complete loop road, all the land inside the loop and up to a quarter mile outside the loop, including trails, will be closed from March 1st until May 21st. or so. Contractors are tilling the old pavement into the underlying roadbed to repave the entire eleven miles.So what is a Cove-ophile to do?
I have a suggestion.
Rich Mountain Loop Trail is still open. This is a good hiking choice roadwork or not, and is one of our favorites. The trail starts at the entrance to the Cades Cove Loop. Although it is within the ¼ mile exclusion zone, the NPS insists hikers will be allowed to use it.
Using your Cades Cove NaturePod to accompany you, you can get a rich Cove experience as you hike. After traversing about 1/4 mile from the parking lot, you’ll spot a big mound across the field. Many refer to this as the “Indian Mound.” A diviner once doused the mound and claimed there were 150 natives buried there. Archeological digs endeavored to substantiate graves in the mound but have determined it is nothing but dirt.
A native American known to have inhabited the Cove is Chief Abrams. Some claim that Cades Cove was named for his wife Catie even though there appears to be no historic record of her existence.
Moving along, you will come to the John Oliver Cabin at mile 1.3. As you investigate his cabin listen to the story of the Olivers on your NaturePod. It is much like the story of many Americans. The Olivers moved here in the early 1800s to begin a new life. Times were hard, especially that first year, but with grit and determination they not only flourished but helped establish the ensuing community. John helped build the Primitive Baptist Church where he and Luraney were quite active. The couple is buried in that cemetery. Although you won’t be able to access the church this spring, you can use your NaturePod to listen to a Harp Sing that may have filled the church’s rafters with a joyful noise.
The next quarter mile takes you past a chimney on your right. Look sharp because the forest is absorbing it. As the trail climbs Cave Ridge, listen to the story of Joe Gregory’s Cave that lies deep below you. Legend has it the cave was used for all sorts of purposes, some of which were better suited for underground activity – literally and figuratively.
As you approach the junction with Indian Grave Gap Trail, you will catch a glimpse across the Cove. You are now standing on the land once owned by Peter Cable and later his son-in-law Dan Lawson. Both men became wealthy land-wise and were prominent figures in this community.
So many stories to tell and so many people to “meet” in this Cove. Although the NPS has chosen this spring to undertake much needed road repair, it should not discourage you from learning more about the magic of the Cove. This valley is a spectacular place, and with your NaturePod, you can have a ranger with you as you travel in the footsteps of Chief Abrams, the Olivers, Gregorys, Cables, Lawsons and so many more.
Be aware of other closures in the Smokies for repaving:
Clingman’s Dome Road
Roaring Fork Motor NatureTrail
Parking area for the Sinks
These have been scheduled for closure from mid February until the end of May.
Leafy Tree Tufts – Squirrel’s Winter Refuge
Friday, January 29th, 2010
Grey Squirrel heading down tree
Grey Squirrel with a mouthful of leaves
Yet another trip full of leaves
This fellow was certainly focused.
Scampering down, heading under the deck, emerging with a mouthful of brown leaves, scampering back up.
This happened time and time again. I’m thinking this is not exactly the time of year to be building a drey, or squirrel nest. Usually a squirrel has a snug nest before winter’s onslaught. Maybe some leaves blew away and it needed refurbishing. Perhaps this fellow’s drey was damaged and he needed to make a new one. No matter the reason, it is not unusual for a grey squirrel to build several dreys.
A couple of squirrel dreys
The basic framework consists of twigs and lots of deciduous leaves. It could be lined with dried grass or even feathers. Looking skyward in the branches of deciduous trees you can easily see dreys. The topmost cluster of brown leaves are the summer houses.
Grey Squirrel's winter drey
The more sturdy winter drey is usually located lower, in the fork of a tree. This winter abode is bigger, well insulated and lined. It is a good place to curl up on the coldest of winter days.
Take a count of these leafy abodes on your next winter walk and think of our industrious friend curled up inside snug as a squirrel in a drey.
Bittersweet – the Good and the Bad
Monday, November 30th, 2009
Oriental Bittersweet berries
I’m not talking about chocolate, a musical group or a pastry shop.
At this time of year, with deciduous leaves not obscuring your view, and the woods and thickets kind of drab and colorless, you can find a bittersweet vine readily in the northeastern US. Its bright orange/red berries framed in bright yellow bracts stand out and look rather beautiful in the dreary roadside woods.
There is an American bittersweet (Celastrus scandens), the native “good” bittersweet, and Oriental bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus) the troublemaker. They are much alike in their twining habit, except that Oriental bittersweet is the more aggressive, making American bittersweet less and less common.
Close examination can tell them apart most of the time. Oriental bittersweet has nearly round leaves, and the flowers and ensuing fruit are borne in axillary clusters. American bittersweet’s leaves are longer than wide and taper to a point at the end. The flowers and berries grow at the end of a stem, not at the leaf axils. Trouble is, the two plants hybridize, and the offspring can be a little of both.
Both C. scandens and C. orbiculatus twine around trees but the exotic one can trounce through a woodland and take over the place. If it doesn’t strangle its host tree by twining around its trunk, Oriental bittersweet can overtake it and shade it out. Either way, tree loses.
Birds, rabbits, grouse, squirrels, voles and other rodents eat bittersweet. Although they look beautifully tempting, the berries are not edible for humans. Even if you manage to choke down the horribly bitter-tasting berries, they’ll probably make you sick. Leave them for the wildlife.
Wreath decorated with Oriental Bittersweet berries
Basket decorated with Oriental Bittersweet berries
Thinking about upcoming holidays? Why not decorate with bittersweet? Because of their bright color, floral arrangements, basket decorations and other floral activities make use of sprigs of berries. You too may be inspired like me, to a “Martha Stewart Moment” and collect a few twigs for bringing some color into the house. I cut some branches and used them to revitalize my wreath as well as decorate a basket.
Be extra careful however, in keeping track of the berries. Don’t inadvertently aid in the spread of this invasive plant. I worked on newspaper, and made sure that any wayward and unused berries got put in the trash – not dumped in the woods or compost pile. Better yet, burning them would have been a better idea.
So get outdoors, and look for the brightness that is there for the finding.
Urban Raccoon
Sunday, November 22nd, 2009Driving in downtown Springfield yesterday I was stopped at a light, city library to my right, city school administration building to my left. I had to do a double take as I saw something starting to cross the road in the crosswalk. Not a person, not a dog, but a big fat raccoon. He sauntered across almost mid way when the light changed, and the car he was approaching started to move. The raccoon quickly realized he was too late, did an about-face, and skedaddled back to the curb and up the nearby steps of the building.
I felt bad for the little guy – being stuck in this concrete jungle. Cars to avoid, people and dogs to contend with. How’s he going to get something to eat, much less navigate in this foreign land? How did he get here? Should I call animal control? I plucked out my phone and turned it on. He’d be better off in Forest Park, the nearby city park.
- Raccoon awaiting release
I reluctantly had to drive onward, looking immediately for a way to turn around and head back to follow my brave friend. While doing that, second thoughts gripped me. I thought about how city savvy that raccoon seemed to be. He knew just what to do to avoid getting squashed by a car. He knew the difference between sidewalk and street. Maybe he’s not so much of a newcomer around here. He didn’t even jaywalk.
When I managed to swing around and head back up the road, I looked for him. No sight of him either walking around or flattened in the road. There were, I noted, quite a number of dumpsters in the area. Maybe that fellow was taking advantage of all the trash. He was a rather chunky looking rascal after all. Instead of a poor displaced raccoon, perhaps he was quite the city slicker.
Yes, if he could find his way in, he could find his way out I reassured myself. Matter of fact – the next time he tries to cross the road, he’ll probably be pushing the “walk” button.
Moss Flinging
Saturday, November 14th, 2009
Appreciating Moss - in the Woods
I sit here listening to the buzzing whirr of the power sprayer on the roof. With each zing and buzz, a little more moss is dislodged. My husband is out there rigged up in his climbing harness and tied via climbing rope to a big ash tree on the opposite side of the A-frame house. The rope comes over the peak and holds him in a rappelling position as the pitch of the roof makes it impossible to stand on. The power sprayer sits atop scaffolding erected on the front porch. Two lengths of hose and extension cord help it reach the top of the fourth level. Quite the operation; not something we want to do every year. As I watch the many bits and pieces of moss get flung off, I think about why the shingles on our shady north side are so conducive to the growth of moss.
Moss is a non-vascular plant, meaning it lacks the vessels for transport of water and nutrients. Therefore, by necessity moss stays small and grows close to or within a ready source of water. So shady places, damp places, near streams and water sources, wooded areas are all likely places for moss to inhabit. Acidic soils and surfaces are its preference.
Moss has a rather involved life cycle, involving a haploid stage and a diploid stage, so I’m not going to get much into it here. However, the spores resulting from its reproductive cycle are masters at dispersion. They can ride the wind or get tossed by rain and be flung far and wide. Not only that, the spores can start growing pretty much anywhere they land, given enough moisture. Wood, brick, coarse rock surfaces, soil, cracks between cement and asphalt and yes, roofing or anything that is porous or moisture retentive or has a rough surface are subject to moss growth. Once established, moss is super great at retaining water and which not only greatly reduces the lifespan of roofing, but aids in breaking down solid rock.
Getting rid of moss where you don’t want it takes eliminating one of its requirements for survival. Depriving the area of moisture by allowing more direct sun to hit the surface or by creating a drainage system will help. Heavy traffic will also eventually discourage it. Changing the pH of the substrate will also do the trick. This is the logical solution for our roof, as I don’t want to eliminate the beautiful big oak tree on the north side of our house that is the primary shade producer. Strips of copper installed within the rows of shingles on your roof do a great job. As rain falls on the exposed copper and rolls down the roof, it makes for very unsuitable conditions for moss or algae to grow. Any homeowner advice store or website will have more on this.
Aside from my roof, I love moss. To find a big bed of cushy moss on a hike is an invitation for a rest and maybe a quickie nap. Sticking your hand in a thick matt is simply luxurious. With about 12,000 species of moss growing in nooks and crannies all over the world, I think it goes unappreciated and is vastly overshadowed by those showy flowering plants. So, next time you are out and about in your own backyard, bend down, or look up at your rooftop, and take notice of this ubiquitous little survivor.