The creation of a park establishes that sense of a special place. When you enter a park – you think differently. You pause and it takes you a little bit out of the rush of time and I think that is why so many families take their kids back and why those kids will take their kids back because it encapsulates an imperishable moment that you experience as a child.
~Dayton Duncan, writer and co-producer of The National Parks: America’s Best Idea documentary
Sunset at Roosevelt Arch, north entrance, Yellowstone National Park (click photos to enlarge)
For the past couple of years, Melissa and I have used some of our images to create nature-themed calendars as gifts for family and friends. We also included quotes collected from a variety of sources that we feel match the imagery. This year, we decided to do a calendar celebrating the centennial of the birth of both the National Park System and the North Carolina State Parks System. These organizations, and the lands they protect, have had a profound influence on us. They are among our favorite places to visit and to take others to learn about the natural world. It occurred to me that the calendar pages might make a good monthly installment on this blog and highlight why parks are so important to all of us. So, here is the first installment, along with a little background on the history of our National Park System. More on the North Carolina’s State Parks story in the February posting.
Yellowstone, the world’s first national park, was established by an act of Congress on March 1, 1872, as a public park or pleasuring-ground for the benefit and enjoyment of the people.
In the years following the establishment of Yellowstone, additional parks were created, some managed by the Secretary of the Interior, some by the War Department, and others by the Forest Service. It became obvious that there needed to be a more unified management approach to these federal park lands. And so, on August 25, 1916, President Woodrow Wilson signed legislation creating the National Park Service under the Department of the Interior.
This so-called Organic Act states that the Service thus established shall promote and regulate the use of the Federal areas known as national parks, monuments and reservations…by such means and measures as conform to the fundamental purpose of the said parks, monuments and reservations, which purpose is to conserve the scenery and the natural and historic objects and the wild life therein and to provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner and by such means as will leave them unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations.
And so it began, the creation of a unit of government whose mission was to protect and interpret our nation’s most outstanding natural and historical resources for this and future generations. One hundred years later, we have 409 units in our National Park System. This year, take the opportunity to learn more about your National (and State) Parks, and be sure to give yourself the gift of visiting one (or more) to help celebrate the birth of this incredible idea.
Here is our January calendar photo and quote…
Yellowstone’s Hayden Valley in winter (photo by Melissa Dowland)
At its best, the National Park idea connects us to something larger than ourselves.
The best thing one can do when it is raining is to let it rain.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Unlike most years, I was dreading this year’s annual Christmas Bird Count. The weather forecast had been calling for more rain, 80% most of the day. We have already had so much rain and I anticipated the roads at Pungo would be nasty. And to make matters worse, it was forecast to be incredibly warm, way too warm for a Christmas Bird Count…almost 75 degrees! But, I suppose there is no such thing as a bad day at Pungo, so off we went. We arrived at the platform about 6:30 a.m. to a very gray landscape. The swans were scattered across the surface of Pungo Lake and were calling softly (a sound I never tire of hearing)…but, it wasn’t raining.
Surprise sunrise at Pungo Lake (click photos to enlarge)
The eastern sky showed signs of a gray beginning, but soon surprised us with yet another beautiful sunrise.
Mist hanging above the pocosin at sunrise
A thin layer of mist hung above the pocosin surrounding us. Our fellow bird counters arrived (making a total of 4 of us for this portion of the 15-mile diameter circle we have counted every year since 1985). As we surveyed the lake estimating the number of Tundra Swans, Lucas spied something unusual – a White-tailed Deer was swimming out in the middle of the 2700-acre lake (unfortunately, way too far out for a photo in the dawn light). As we watched (and wondered what the heck this deer was doing out there so far from shore) the doe was seemingly being escorted by a squadron of swimming swans. She finally turned and headed north toward the closest shoreline. We became distracted by some flying birds (after all, it is a bird count) and we assume the deer made it safely to shore….but, this is a first in my thirty years of visiting this refuge. Lots of birds, a swimming deer, and a beautiful sunrise – maybe this wasn’t going to be such a bad day after all.
White birds in green wheat on a gray day
The Pungo weather machine had a different idea. It soon turned totally overcast and the sky took on a lead gray appearance. By 9:30 a.m. it was raining, softy at first, and then much harder.
Muddy Pungo road
The legendary Pungo roads, which had been quite manageable at first, soon became waterlogged. Luckily, they were still largely passable, with a solid base hiding beneath the ominous-looking standing water, and only a few deep ruts to give you pause. But, if this wet weather continues much longer, the roads could face some issues with flooding as the water in the canals and adjacent swamps is only inches away in places.
Snow Geese feeding in cornfield near our car
That is how the day progressed – rain, not rain, more rain, brief break, more rain. We managed to get out and walk down “Bear Road” a little ways and pick up some woodland birds and sparrows (and see three bears), but we also spent more time watching birds from the car than usual. After lunch we were treated to a close view of a flock of Snow Geese in a field next to the paved road.
Snow Goose with neck collarAnother neck collar in the flock
We parked and they noisily munched their way right up next to the car, making it easier to find the few Ross’s Geese in the flock, and a couple of collared Snow Geese.
Lone Tundra Swan on the impoundment
After a particularly hard rain, we drove down along the south shore of Pungo Lake to where the road is closed due to flooding. There we spotted a very wet Wild Turkey far down the road. On the way back, we passed a lone Tundra Swan that slowly swam away from the edge of the road. Probably not a good sign – a swan by itself, and unwilling (or unable) to fly away usually means an illness or injury, and that usually means a short life in this predator-rich environment.
Heavy rains late in the day had us heading out
By late afternoon, the cycle of rain and clearing skies gave way to just rain….heavy rain. No traditional late afternoon walk down Bear Road, no sunset with swans flying overhead, no listening for owls as we walked toward the car, and no watching Woodcock zip by into the fields for their nightly feeding forays (luckily we got both of these crepuscular species at sunrise). In spite of the warm temperatures and wet conditions, it had been a surprisingly good day with some good birders. The overall numbers (over 60,000 individuals) for our section of the count are down from previous years (especially for Snow Geese), but we did okay in terms of species (73), thanks, in part, to Lucas’ keen birding ears. The crazy temperatures also gave us 6 species of butterflies, 3 species of frogs calling, and numerous biting flies (and even a few mosquitoes)! Certainly not your typical Christmas Bird Count in North Carolina. I look forward to seeing what other surprises the refuge has for me in the next few weeks as I lead some trips to observe winter wildlife. If interested in scheduling a trip, please email me.
Results for the Pungo Unit of the Pettigrew 2015 Audubon Christmas Bird Count:
…you will remember these fine, wild views, and look back with joy to your wanderings in the blessed old Yellowstone Wonderland.
~John Muir, 1898
The landscapes and wildlife of Yellowstone are spectacular (click photos to enlarge)
Join me, June 2-9, 2016, for an unforgettable experience in the world’s first national park, Yellowstone! Next summer will mark 100 years since the creation of the National Park Service, and there is no better way to celebrate than by visiting Yellowstone. We will spend our days exploring Yellowstone’s unique thermal areas, beautiful landscapes, and wildlife-rich valleys. I offer small group (4 to 6 participants) field experiences that take you beyond the typical roadside views of this incredible park. Visit my Trips page for more information and to request a registration form. Space is limited. Previous blogs from Yellowstone trips can give you an idea of the wonder and beauty you will experience.
Bull Bison, the iconic symbol of Yellowstone
Did you get a new camera or binoculars for a gift? Yellowstone is the perfect place to learn how to use them!
Cow Elk silhouette on a ridge near MammothEarly June is prime time for observing Bison babiesThe meadows will be blooming with Shooting Stars and other wildflowersWe will be on the lookout for birds such as the elusive Great Gray OwlEarly morning is a great time to observe wildlife such as this band of Pronghorn bucksWe hope to see Gray Wolves in Lamar ValleyWe will visit many of the park’s unusual thermal features such as these mud potsJoin me for an unforgettable experience in the wilds of Yellowstone
Sense of place…it is a combination of characteristics that makes a place special and unique.
~the Art of Geography
I am lucky. I have several wild places that give me that feeling of a sense of place, of completeness, of peace. I think almost any location can become such a place given time to experience its moods and inhabitants. As readers of this blog know, one of the places I turn to for this feeling, time and again, is Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge (PLNWR) in Eastern North Carolina. I am particularly fond of the Pungo Unit of the refuge, as I have been enjoying this area since that unit was the only part of the refuge, then known as Pungo National Wildlife Refuge. In the early 1990’s, an almost additional 100,000 acres were added and the combined lands renamed Pocosin Lakes NWR. The winter waterfowl still concentrate in the original refuge area surrounding Pungo Lake, and that is where I find myself 20 or more times each year, especially in winter.
Sunrise from the observation platform on Pungo Lake (click photos to enlarge)
The sky in Eastren North Carolina is special, it reminds me of the big sky of another place I love, Yellowstone. In fact, I have often referred to Pocosin Lakes as the Yellowstone of the East. But, the reason has more to do with the feeling of being connected to a place than specific physical similarities of the landscape. Perhaps it is the abundance of wildlife, the silence when I am there alone, the joy in sharing it with others, or the feeling of spaciousness created by the incredible sunrises and sunsets. Maybe it has something to do with the type of wildlife and the spectacle they create. Thousands of birds flying around you or the glimpse of a family of Black Bears help me realize things about scale and about my place in the world.
Large bear track at PLNWR
Walking in the footsteps of animals larger than us puts some things in perspective.
Bear trail through the woods
Seeing well worn wildlife trails helps me appreciate the lives of other creatures and somehow makes their lives seem more like ours. They have routines like us, they care for their young like we do, they are seeking many of the things we seek – food, comfort, safety, and, who knows, maybe even some sense of happiness. It is hard to watch bear cubs playing or otters doing anything, and not think they are having some fun.
I watched a large bear start across the field, and she was soon joined by two yearling cubs.
On my last trip, watching a bear across the field, I saw her pause and lay down for a few minutes before heading to a corner of the field where I have seen many bears over the years. She kept glancing back towards the woods, and was soon joined by one, then another, of her one year old cubs. As I continued walking down the road, they noticed me, and would stop and look, perhaps gauging the level of threat I might pose.
The bears and I met at a juncture of field and forest
They continued to walk, as did I, and we converged near a juncture of field and woods, a place I have had many encounters with bears in years past, a small patch of the planet where the bears and I can coexist. My group had departed earlier that day so it was just me and a family of bears sharing a moment. The mother bear soon led her young into the safety of the woods, a prudent decision when faced with the unknown creature watching them. And that is as it should be, both if us tolerating the presence of another species, both wary and respectful.
An hour or so later, as I walked the mile back toward my car, a family of bears came out into the road, and eventually crossed over into the adjacent corn field for a meal. It was probably the same family as before. Once again, they were tolerant, and I was respectful of their space, a situation that I realize is a necessity for us to be together in this place.
Tundra Swan family – two adults, two juveniles (on either end)
When I have time to observe the wildlife at Pungo, I marvel at the struggles that some species endure. I see a family of Tundra Swans – two white adults and their two gray-headed young, and wonder what it must be like to fly over 3000 miles from their nesting grounds above the Arctic Circle to their winter resting and feeding grounds here in North Carolina.
A Tundra Swan bites another for reasons only they know
And while they are elegant birds with a peaceful air about them, you can see squabbles and hear quarrels aplenty if you pay attention. What does it all mean?
Tundra Swan lifting off
One of the best things about being with the swans is the sounds they add to the landscape – their soft ou call, the whirring of the wind through their wing feathers when they fly low overhead, and the slapping of the feet against the water as they take to the air. I wonder about the meanings of their calls and I strain to hear differences between individual birds. They are all magical sounds I never tire of hearing.
Mute Swan hanging out with Tundra Swan flock. Mute Swans have a knobbed, pinkish bill, thicker neck, and are larger than Tundra Swans.
Occasionally you see something different among the giant flocks of swans. I found a Mute Swan last week hanging out with the Tundra Swans on one of the refuge impoundmemts. There was one there last year as well. Is it the same bird? Did it migrate the entire distance with the flock, or did it join them at some point along the way? Hybridization, although quite rare, apparently can occur, but this bird seems to stay slightly apart from its smaller cousins. What types of interactions does it have with the rest of the flock? I will also be looking and listening for some Trumpeter Swans again this winter. I have seen this somewhat rare species many times in Yellowstone over the years and am now starting to find a few mixed in each winter with the thousands of Tundra Swans on the refuge. My friend, Keith, at Mattamuskeet, photographed one at his refuge this past week. I’ll keep looking.
Bufflehead male swimming in a refuge canal
After my group departed I spent a few hours on the refuge and a little more time behind the camera. I find the camera often causes me to stop and watch things more closely, hoping to capture some behavior. I notice little details I might otherwise miss…how long a Bufflehead stays underwater as it feeds, how the water droplets bead up on its back when it resurfaces, and how slight changes in position cause the purple and green hues on its head to appear and disappear.
Immature Bald Eagle taking off
Near sunset, I watched a Bald Eagle, perched on a snag, surveying some flooded woodlands for an easy meal. When nothing seemed to satisfy it, it lifted off with a few strong wing beats and cruised toward the lake, where perhaps the hunting would be more productive.
Tundra Swans add beauty and serenity to any scene
As the day came to a close, I was surrounded by the sights and sounds of this place I love. There really is something special about certain places in our lives, places we can recall in detail even when we are far away. This sense of place is a true gift. I hope you all find such a gift in your lives this holiday season.
What good is the warmth of summer without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
~John Steinbeck
Tis the season for winter visitors such as these Tundra Swans (click photos to enlarge)
It is time for another season of winter wildlife watching. Now, if only the weather would catch up and cooperate. I will have to admit, my group seemed to enjoy the warm conditions as we explored Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuge last Saturday. But, the unseasonably high temperatures made for some strange bedfellows. While watching Arctic visitors such as Tundra Swans, we also saw three species of butterflies (Cloudless Sulphur, Palamedes Swallowtail, and Orange Sulphur) and heard the quacking sound of Southern Leopard Frogs calling. Temperatures were in the 70’s both days and I slapped more than a few mosquitoes…in mid- December!
Yellow-bellied Sliders seemed to be enjoying the warm temperatures
Even the many turtles we stopped to photograph looked a little hot while sunning themselves in this December heat wave.
Great Blue Heron silhouette at sunrise
The day started mildly enough with a beautiful sunrise and a few birds along the causeway. The lake level is very high again this winter so there are not as many birds as in the past feeding along this area. But, you can always count on a few herons and egrets to grace the edges with their stately silhouettes.
Boardwalk at the New Holland Trail
After spending time driving Wildlife Drive and admiring the numerous species of waterfowl feeding in the shallows, we took a couple of hikes along the trails where we saw Nutria, the aforementioned butterflies, and a host of small birds. As usual, when I am with a group, I didn’t take all that many photos with my telephoto lenses, but carried a point and shoot to document the day.
Reflections along the boardwalk
And, as usual, I can’t resist stopping for a few photos of the exquisite reflections along the New Holland Trail boardwalk. The dark, still waters along this 1/4 mile trail offer a reverse image of the stark trees and sky that calls to my camera.
Merlin perched in a snag in one of the impoundments
On our final pass around the roadway loop for the day, I had just started to comment on how I appreciate the two dead tree snags out in the impoundment because they are often graced with a raptor….wait, there’s one now. I pulled over, thinking it was an American Kestrel, but my binoculars told me otherwise – a Merlin, our second largest falcon. I jumped out and grabbed the spotting scope so everyone could get a look. About the time we all had our first quick glance, the Merlin took off. We watched it pick up speed and fly out about 25 yards, then make a swoop and an abrupt turn and return to the snag. It immediately started reaching down to its clinched talons and begin to feed. It had caught something! I reset the scope and looked, but didn’t see anything at first. Then the bird moved and I saw wings. Not the usual bird wings you would expect as prey of this mid-sized falcon, but insect wings. More precisely, dragonfly wings. This was so cool…I have seen Merlins nab a few different species of birds over the years, but never a dragonfly. The feisty raptor took off again, this time flying more in our direction, accelerating as it cruised the marsh, and, once again, ending its flight with a sharp turn and a return to the snag. And again, a dragonfly. We watched it go out on 6 forays and return with 5 dragonflies. One was spotted and caught at a remarkable distance of about 50 yards. Unfortunately, I got so involved watching this unusual event that I never got the 500 mm lens out to attempt a better photo. I tried to identify the seemingly mid-sized dragonflies through the scope, but could only see a dark abdomen clutched in the bird’s talons as it quickly pulled the wings off and ate the head. One member of my group saw it slurp down the abdomen of one dragonfly like a kid eating spaghetti. The Merlin finally took off and flew over the treetops leaving us all appreciative of its keen eyesight and aerial acrobatics as it dined on its out-of-season menu items. In reading about the bird that night I came across David Allen Sibley’s description of this species in his field guide…Pugnacious…An active and energetic hunter: spots prey from perch or during low fast flight, closes with incredible speed, and attacks with abrupt turns, often from below. Feeds almost entirely on small birds; also take dragonflies in mid-air. I’d say Mr. Sibley nailed it!
There’s a sunrise and a sunset every single day, and they’re absolutely free. Don’t miss so many of them.
~Jo Walton
I had a trip to Pocosin Lakes and Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuges with a great group this past weekend. The birds have arrived (well, maybe not all the birds as yet) and it was a beautiful weekend of clear skies and warm weather. Too warm for my tastes, but I don’t think my friends minded. In addition to the wildlife, we enjoyed some beautiful skies, especially at sunrise and sunset. While almost everyone I know appreciates a good sunset, I find that many people are not fond of the concept of sunrise. A teacher that attended one of our Yellowstone workshops one summer (when sunrises are really early) sent me a cartoon whose caption summed up her feelings…the only problem with sunrise is that it comes too damned early.
Just before sunrise at Lake Mattamuskeet (click photos to enlarge)
To make it even tougher for the dawn-weary, the 15-30 minutes just before sunrise are often the most spectacular in terms of color. Such was the case Saturday at Lake Mattamuskeet. The usual spot for viewing the sunrise is the observation platform along the causeway (Hwy 94) over the lake. From that location, a small island of cypress trees provides a nice added element in any photograph. In fact, I think this may be the most photographed “island” in the state of North Carolina, based on the many entries in the annual Wildlife in NC Photo Competition that include this photogenic group of trees.
Getting closer to sun popping up
As the sun started to peek above the horizon, the colors had subsided, and more clouds became visible in the eastern sky.
Telephoto sunrise
Switching to my Canon 7D MII and a telephoto lens created a much different perspective on the orange orb coming over the distant trees. But, from what I have read, the actual sun may not quite be up in this photograph. Say what? Due to the bending of light (refraction) in the Earth’s atmosphere, we see the sun in a position slightly different from where it really is. If I understand this correctly, this effect means that we “see the sun” about two minutes before the actual position of the sun is above the horizon.
Sunset along the north shore
Back to just appreciating the sky…After a full day of wildlife watching, we headed back to Belhaven in late afternoon. Cruising along the north shore of the lake we passed a perfect spot for a quick stop to appreciate the final light of the day, as watched by us and a lone Bald Cypress tree.
Ground fog and dawn light at the Pungo Unit
The next morning we were at the Pungo Unit of Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge. My car arrived first, and two of us got out and viewed the horizon as we waited for the remaining folks. The sky was on fire and had the added beauty of a thin layer of morning fog hanging just above the ground. This type of fog is often called radiation fog. On clear, calm nights, especially in fall and winter, the land cools after sunset by radiating heat upward into the sky. This causes condensation in the air above the cooling ground. Under calm conditions, the fog will often form a thin layer just above the ground. This type of fog usually dissipates shortly after sunrise as the ground warms back up.
Wide view from the corn field
The striking colors of the the sky on this trip had me wondering,,,why do winter sunrises and sunsets seem so much more intense? A quick online search produced this confirming statement in one scientific article – In the middle latitudes and over the eastern half of the United States, fall and winter generally produce the most spectacular low-sun hues. In general, sunsets and sunrises tend to be more colorful because of something called Rayleigh Scattering. That is because air molecules tend to absorb and radiate (scatter) the shorter wavelengths of incoming light best. Since blue and violet are the shorter wavelengths in the sun’s spectrum of light, those colors are scattered in all directions first, which is why we see the daytime sky as blue.
During sunrise and sunset, sunlight must pass through more of our atmosphere before reaching us, so it comes into contact with more air molecules and particulates such as dust. This longer path causes even more of the shorter wavelengths of blue light to be scattered from the incoming beam. That means that more of the longer wavelengths reach our eyes, resulting in a red or orange tinted sky. In colder months, the air tends to be dry and clear with fewer particles. That means more colors of the spectrum make it through to our eyes, resulting in more vivid colors early and late in the day.
Tree silhouette at dawn
While I find all of this interesting, for me, the beauty of a winter sunrise or sunset is enough reason to be outside to watch them. And I must admit, sunrise is my favorite time of day. It is usually the quietest time since most of the world is still asleep, or at least still inside. It is a good time to think and to reflect on the importance of the simple fact of being alive to greet another day. It is also a humbling experience, especially when viewed in the big sky country of Eastern North Carolina, or out West, in places like my beloved Yellowstone. So, give yourself (and others, if they are willing) a gift of sky watching this holiday season. It is simple, really. Make time to get outside at the right time of day, take a deep breath, and enjoy. I especially encourage the gift of a sunrise with the addition of a warm coat and a steaming mug of your favorite morning beverage. You won’t regret it.
Each of us is a unique strand in the intricate web of life and here to make a contribution.
~Deepak Chopra
It seems like all of nature can make a contribution to our well-being, often in surprising ways.
Sheet webs adorned the woods this week (click photos to enlarge)
I awoke on two mornings this week to dense fog here in the woods. The fog revealed the presence of a variety of spiders that have survived well past their usual expiration date.
This one looks similar to a Bowl and Doily Spider web
A stroll through the yard showed many sheet webs on the ground and a few of what looked like Bowl and Doily Spider webs.
Shimmering strands of silk adorned many twigs
There were also some random strands of silk draped on twigs and old flower stalks.
An orb web sparkles with water droplets
I always enjoy seeing orb webs decorated in dew drops and finally found one strung between twigs on a sapling. It always reminds me of necklaces of circular diamonds due to the regular pattern of droplets. That got me to wondering…why is there such a seemingly regular array of water droplets on spider webs?
Water droplets seem to appear in a regular formation on spider webs
A quick online search this morning lead me to some interesting studies. A blog in Discover magazine reported on some studies by Chinese scientists that found that protein fibers in the silk of one species of spider change structure in response to water. When in contact with humidity, like on the foggy mornings this week, certain areas of spider silk fiber scrunch up, forming tiny knots along the strand. In between these knots are smooth areas of the fiber which allow condensed water to slide along until it hits a knot, where it accumulates into a droplet. The researchers were able to copy the fiber structure and created artificial strands that mimic the water gathering properties of the spider silk.
Water droplets form jewel-like patterns on spider silk
The scientists hope that these artificial spider strands may have industrial uses or could be used to help gather drinking water from the air in dry areas of the world. While they were able to figure out how this water collection occurs on the spider silk, they don’t have a reason why silk strands behave in this way (what’s in it for the spider?). It seems that wet silk strands are less effective at catching prey. They speculated that by forming droplets that eventually fall off the web as they grow, this property could help keep a web from getting too heavy and being damaged by the weight of the accumulating water. Or, perhaps it is just one of nature’s ways of bringing beauty into our world and helping us appreciate the simple things in life.
…during reproduction, arguably the most important weeks of a bird’s life, 96% of North American terrestrial birds eat insects and other arthropods.
~Doug Tallamy
Prothonotary Warbler with a beak-full of bugs (click photos to enlarge)
During our recent bout of wet weather, I finally managed to do something that has been on my to-do list for awhile – upload images to a citizen science project called What Do Birds Eat? This is a fascinating effort to learn more about what arthropod species are being eaten by North American birds, especially during nesting cycles. The creator of the site, Dr. Doug Tallamy, is well-known as one of the gurus of the native plants movement from his book, Bringing Nature Home – How Native Plants Sustain Wildlife in Our Gardens. He is also a professor and Chair of Entomology and Wildlife Ecology at the University of Delaware. One of the key selling points for landowners to plant native plants is that they support a more diverse suite of native insects, which, in turn, help support our native birds. But, as Tallamy points out, we know very little about the specifics of what birds eat, even our common backyard species. So, he created a site to crowd-source photos of birds with insects in their beaks. He and other entomologists will then try to identify the prey and record it on a searchable database. This should be a very interesting project. Below are some of the images I uploaded this week. All but the bittern were adult birds bringing food to nestlings. If any of you have images of birds eating arthropods, I encourage you to submit them to the What Do Birds Eat data entry site…definitely a worthwhile rainy day project.
Louisiana Waterthrush with a mouthful of mayfliesAmerican Bittern with what looks like a Giant Water BugCarolina Wren with Daddy-Long-LegsBrown Thrasher with nymph of Periodical CicadaEastern Phoebe with Soldier BeetlesYellow-throated Vireo with a mothEastern Bluebird with cricketEastern Bluebird with beetle grubCarolina Chickadee with caterpillar
..And you, whose pastime is to make midnight mushrooms…
~William Shakespeare’s The Tempest
I debated posting this one, for obvious reasons, but, it is just too weird not to post. Over the holidays, I was asked about a strange-looking mushroom growing in the mulch alongside a home. The description left no doubt in my mind – one of the stinkhorn fungi.
Stinkhorn fungus growing in mulch (click photos to enlarge)
Stinkhorns are an amazing and strange group of fungi, most are in the family, Phallaceae (again, for obvious reasons). Although there are several genera representing a wide range of strange shapes, they all share some common traits: the fruiting body (mushroom) arises from a globular “egg” that can often be seen protruding from the ground at the base of the mushroom; and, unlike most fungi that rely on wind to disperse their spores, members of this family produce a foul-smelling slime which attracts insects that help disperse the spores (note the small fly on the top edge of the white tip) in the first photo.
These large fungi can appear overnight, and disappear almost as quickly
Anytime one of these weird fungi pops up in someone’s yard, they inevitably create a lot of curiosity and reaction in the homeowner. A publication by Clemson Cooperative Extension perhaps summarizes it best...Mycologists (scientists who study fungi) often describe stinkhorns with adjectives such as amazing, interesting or unique. However, homeowners lucky enough to have these aromatic mushrooms suddenly appear in the yard just before an outdoor party will often describe them as disgusting, shocking, foul-smelling or simply gross. To make things worse (in terms of appreciating these unusual life forms), the slime that is produced to attract insects often smells like dog poop or a rotting carcass. Not very pleasing to us, but apparently very effective in attracting a host of flies, beetles, and other insects that typically come to clean up the nasties in our environment.
Texture of the cap helps to identify this to species
Looking at various online mycology resources, I think this one may be Phallus ravenelii, the Common Stinkhorn, or Ravenel’s Stinkhorn. This species tends to have a smooth or slightly rough texture on the cap compared to some other species with deeply pitted caps. They all are saprophytes, feeding on decaying organic matter, especially wood (hence their fondness for mulch piles). This species is found in the eastern United States and and the fruiting body usually occurs from late summer into autumn.
Elegant (or Dog) Stinkhorn
Another common stinkhorn variety I have photographed in the past is the Elegant, or Dog Stinkhorn, Mutinus elegans (or caninus ). It has another strange shape that might cause an embarrassed chuckle in an observer. But, stinkhorns have evoked a lot of other emotions in the past. I read that Darwin’s daughter had a particular hatred of certain stinkhorns. According to a Cornell blog about this story, she had such a disdain for them that she would go out on forays into the woods, looking and sniffing, until she found one. She then would poke the offending fungus with a pointed stick and put it into a basket she carried for the purpose. At the end of the day, the catch was brought back and burnt in the deepest secrecy on the drawing room fire with the door locked because of the morals of the maids.
Well now….I (somewhat shamefully) admit that when I am hiking along a woodland trail and catch a whiff of that smell, I look around with excitement to see which one of these strange mushrooms might be lurking nearby. They are always an amazing discovery. So, if you should find yourself in the company of one these bizarre fungi, stop and take a closer look, and marvel at nature’s strangeness and adaptability (just don’t let the neighbors see you).
I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house.
~Nathaniel Hawthorne
Sunrise on Opt Out Friday (click photos to enlarge)
If Nathaniel had lived in our times, he might have added something to that sentiment….or by going shopping, especially on Black Friday. I think outdoor retailer REI made a huge splash with their decision to encourage people to go outside over Thanksgiving and Black Friday, and by closing their stores to allow their employees to do the same. I was trying to remember if I have ever gone shopping on Black Friday…I don’t think so. And with the publicity of #optoutfriday, I think many more people did what so many of us have done in the past, get outside with family and friends over the Thanksgiving holiday. This year’s weather was especially conducive to such activities. After visiting my folks in the mountains, we traveled to Richmond to spend the remainder of the holiday with Melissa’s family. They live adjacent to a large reservoir bordered by a thin conservation buffer.
Sunrise at Swift Creek Reservoir near Richmond, VA
I like to get up early and walk around the lake shore, enjoying the sights and sounds (in spite of the frequent gun shots from some nearby duck hunters this past weekend). There is something magical about being up early when few people are out, when the natural world is starting to stir. The glowing quality of the morning light is especially pleasing when a very light mist hangs over the water.
Beaver Lake, Pocahontas State Park, VA
After breakfast we all headed over to nearby Pocahontas State Park, an 8000+ acre forested preserve with some nice creeks, a marshy pond, and a large lake. The warm weather created ideal conditions for some end of the season wildlife sightings.
Brown Snake
With morning temperatures in the mid-60’s, it seemed more like late summer than Thanksgiving. The day before we had spotted a very active late season snake, a Brown Snake, Storeria dekayi, at another nearby park. Brown Snakes are common in forested areas but are often missed because they tend to move about under leaf litter and logs in search of their favorite prey, earthworms. This one was caught as it crossed the trail. A quick portrait and it was released back into the leaves. I was hoping for some other late season surprises on this hike.
Autumn Meadowhawk dragonfly
Down by the water’s edge at Beaver Lake, we saw a couple of small dragonflies darting about. One landed briefly on the dock railing and I managed a quick pic with my point and shoot Olympus. I thought it was a species I had photographed earlier back home, a Blue-faced Meadowhawk, but, in looking at the field guides later, I think this is a different species, an Autumn Meadowhawk, Sympetrum vicinum. There is little black on the abdomen and the legs look light in color, which separate this species from the other. Plus, field guides say this is one of the latest-flying of our dragonflies. The hike continued with sightings of several other insects and spiders enjoying this autumn warmth, as well as some nice birds, including a Red-headed Woodpecker feeding on acorns.
Swallowtail chrysalis on tree trunk
Toward the end of the hike we started playing a nature nerd game we often do while walking in the woods…trying to identify trees just by their trunk and bark. Along a boardwalk near the lake edge I walked up and tapped a trunk and asked for an identification. Melissa quickly gave an answer (an ash) and then pointed to something right above where I had tapped (something I failed to notice, I’m ashamed to say) – a chrysalis. The overall shape, plus the way it was connected to the trunk (via a silk loop around the upper third of the body with its posterior end connected directly to the trunk) told me it was a swallowtail chrysalis…but which one?
Close up of Eastern Tiger Swallowtail chrysalis
Looking around the habitat, I could see two possibilities based on the available host plants – a Spicebush Swallowtail (some Spicebush were nearby in the low area adjacent to the boardwalk), and an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (several Tulip Poplars were along the trail). I have raised plenty of Spicebush Swallowtails from the larval stage, and this chrysalis looked different in both color and texture (those of a Spicebush Swallowtail are generally light brown and sleek-looking). When I got home, I looked online and confirmed that it probably was a chrysalis of an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail. The color can be variable but they often have a mixture of green and brown which makes it look like they are a broken twig covered in small patches of lichen. An impressive camouflage. And a morning well spent, to be sure. I hope all of you had a chance to get outside this holiday and enjoy the bargains that nature brings to us every day.
Roads End Naturalist 