Cross-vine flowers in the backyard!

 

As always, click the photo to enlarge

A wooden post on the pergola on my backyard patio is enwrapped with Cross-vine (Bignonia capreolata), a high-climbing vine in the largely tropical Bignoniaceae Family. The only other member of the family that makes it as far north as Ohio is the far more common and widespread Trumpet-creeper (Campsis radicans). It grows copiously on two other posts of this pergola. But the Cross-vine barely enters Ohio from the south. In large part it only occurs in the tier of counties that buffer the Ohio River, and most plants that I have seen are in sight of the big river, with the hills of either Kentucky or West Virginia on the other side, depending on where you are.

A few years ago, I asked John Howard if he might get me a few cuttings of Cross-vine. John lives in Adams County, in the heart of Cross-vine country in Ohio. Sure enough, John came through as he always does, and soon after receiving the material I stuck the cuttings in the ground. Nothing much showed last year, but this year the vine began its ascent of the pergola post - exactly what I was hoping it would do - and now it has reached the top of the pergola.

A few days ago, I noticed buds on the Cross-vine, down low, near the ground. Today, two of them popped open, with a third flower soon to follow. You can see them in the preceding image, near the base of the post on its right side.

This flowering time is strange, as Cross-vine normally blooms in spring: April and May. Perhaps part of the plant got accidentally clipped or damaged, and that spurred the flowers. Whatever the case, I am hopeful that this vine will continue to flourish and start flowering in spring, as it should.

The colorful tubular flowers of Cross-vine are pollinated by Ruby-throated Hummingbirds and are irresistible to the elfin birds. The much more copious Trumpeter-creeper on my pergola is heavily bedecked with flowers, and hummingbirds make constant visits.  I recently posted about that, RIGHT HERE.

I can think of no better use for this pergola than as a framework for interesting vines. It is well-built and fairly large, and up until this year, had a loose fabric covering over the top. I removed that as my Trumpet-creeper vines flourished and reached the top latticework of the pergola. I want it to eventually become a living roof, and now it looks like I might have Cross-vine as part of that green roof.

Bumblebee buzz-pollinating Wild Senna

 

Bee sure to turn your volume up!

A short video of bumblebees buzz-pollinating my Wild Senna (Senna hebecarpa) this morning. Buzz pollination, or sonification, is essential for the extraction of pollen in certain groups of plants, including some pea family members like the senna, blueberries, potatoes and tomatoes. In buzz pollinated plants, the pollen is held tightly in specially shaped anthers. Slits in the anther are not large enough for pollen-seeking insects to access and thus access the reward within. However, vibration at a certain frequency releases the pollen through those same pores. The bumblebee takes some of the nutrient-rich pollen to eat. Other harvested pollen is made into a rich paste to feed the larvae within their nests. Along the way, the uber-fuzzy insects deposit pollen on the reproductive parts of other senna plants. Worthington, Ohio.

Ruby-throated Hummingbirds and Trumpet-creeper

 

My large mass of Trumpet-creeper (Campsis radicans) in my backyard. It is an irresistible magnet for hummers.

I was able to work with the Ruby-throated Hummingbirds that constantly visit my snarled lianas of Trumpet-creeper (Campsis radicans) today. I put an iPhone photo of that floriferous mass here, along with two images of the hummingbirds (at least two visit routinely). A nectaring bird will often sit on the flower lip and plunge its body deep into the corolla tube.

The hummers also perch on the flowers and flycatch from them. Trumpet-creeper is heavily beset with extrafloral nectaries that produce sugary secretions, and these lure an abundance of ants, and other small insects such as bees and wasps. Thus, the plant not only provides an abundance of regular flower nectar for the hummers, it also provides ample protein in the form of small insects.

I know some people shy away from this tropical-looking species (most of the plants in the Bignoniaceae family ARE tropical) because it can be unruly, but any hummingbird enthusiasts would do well to plant some Trumpet-creeper.

Moths/all things nocturnal night: Clear Creek Metro Park, next Saturday evening, August 23.

Moth/Caterpillar/Everything Nocturnal prowl: Next Saturday night, August 23, in the heart of Clear Creek Metro Park in Hocking County. This will be a fun, productive nocturnal foray. Chelsea Gottfried, coauthor of the new book Gardening for Moths, kicks things off with a lushly illustrated PowerPoint presentation on moths, followed by mothing at various light stations. Jim McCormac and Clear Creek naturalist Katie Bennett, along with Chelsea, will help in searching for interesting creatures of the night and we should see many. This has been an amazing year for caterpillars, and we'll be seeking those with blacklight flashlights.

The fun starts at 7:30 pm, and all of the details are RIGHT HERE.

The following images were made last Saturday night (8/16) at a nocturnal event at the amazing Scioto Gardens native plant nursery in Delaware County. The diversity of critters there was incredible, and I'll hope to write more about that experience later. This offers a wee sampling of the sorts of creatures that we'll find at the Clear Creek event this Saturday.

Carolina Sphinx (Manduca sexta)

Spicebush Swallowtail caterpillar (Papilio troilus)

Gray Furcula caterpillar (Furcula cinerea)

White-banded Crab Spider (Misumenoides formosipes)

Waning Gibbous Moon

 

The moon, in its first day of its waning gibbous phase. As always, click the photo to enlarge.

August 9th (2025) marked the most recent full moon. It was spectacular, and clear skies showed it nicely. I remarked to Shauna that we should attempt to create images of it the following night. In preparation, I did a bit of searching for moon photography articles and learned something new. Apparently it is better to shoot the moon either the day prior to the full moon (waxing gibbous phase) or the day after, when these shots were made. Increased shadowing around the moon's edge better highlights craters and other features of the lunar landscape. You'll see that, especially if you click on an image to enlarge it. When the moon is completely full, it will look largely white and featureless - something I have noticed from past full moon shoots.

A tighter shot of the moon in all its glory. Around here, we're just as likely to have cloudy skies during interesting celestial phenomena, if not more likely. But two totally clear skies in a row made for great moon watching, and photography.

To make these shots, I used my Canon R5 (I still have my trusty 5D IV but haven't touched it since I went mirrorless), and the Canon 800mm f/5.6 lens. That rig weighs a LOT, so needless to say it was mounted to my Gitzo tripod/Wemberley head. My settings were f/16, ISO 4000, at 1/125 second exposure. You don't want to go much if any slower than that shutter speed, as the moon is moving and with too slow a shutter speed it won't be tack sharp.

To prevent any motion blur on my end, I used the camera's 2-second delay feature so that there would not be even the slightest motion caused by me pressing the shutter. I could have used the 10-second delay, but that would have been overkill. Likewise, I could have plugged in a remote shutter release cord, but the timer is easier and the end result is the same. I found that underexposing one-third of a stop retained more of the moon's orangish cast, and I did very little to these images in post-processing other than crop.

Finally, to better zoom in on an object that is nearly 239,000 miles away, I resorted to my rarely used Canon 2x extender. That makes the lens 1600mm millimeters. When shooting relatively stable objects like this, where one can use all the tactics to prevent motion blur as described above, the 2x works well. While I use the 1.4x extender all of the time, the 2x isn't nearly as user-friendly for active wildlife of the sort that I often shoot. But for celestial objects, it works great.

A wide-ranging discussion on the Backyard Ecology podcast

Back on July 16, I was interviewed for the wonderful Backyard Ecology podcast by host Shannon Trimboli. She and her husband Anthony started the podcast several years ago and have interviewed a wide range of experts on various subjects.

The primary topic of discussion for my appearance was moths, based on the book Gardening for Moths, authored by Chelsea Gottfried and myself and released in 2023. But we ranged far and wide, in addition to making the case why moths are so vital. If you would like to check it out, CLICK HERE.

Primrose Moth

 

A Common Evening-primrose (Oenothera biennis) in full bloom. The common - some might say "weedy" - native plant is incredibly showy and comes with the added allure of playing host for one of our coolest moths.

I've written about the Primrose Moth (Schinia florida) before, but it's been a while. As it's always a red-letter day when one finds this moth, which I recently did, I must share the experience here.

Probably all species of our native flora play host to caterpillars, the overwhelming majority of which are moth larvae. To take Ohio as a point of reference, about 170 species of butterflies have been recorded. And that includes great rarities and one-off records of vagrants. But there are many thousands of moth species. No one knows exactly how many, indeed, probably no one even has a good handle on how many moth species there might be in the state. One of Ohio's premier moth experts, Diana Platco Brooks, has identified nearly 1,500 species on her 12.5-acre property in southeastern Ohio over the last 15 years or so. Such butterfly to moth ratios probably applies nearly everywhere in eastern North America.

While some moths are generalists, their caterpillars consuming a wide variety of plant species (polyphagous), the great majority tilt towards specialization. The latter might consume members of one family of plants, one genus, or even one species. The caterpillar in the image above is the larva of this post's protagonist, the Primrose Moth. Insofar as I know, it feeds only on primrose in the genus Oenothera, and I have only seen it on Common Evening-primrose (Oenothera biennis).

I was down in Cullowhee, North Carolina recently to attend the amazing Cullowhee Native Plant Conference. It has been going on for about four decades and attracts something like 500 attendees. If you get the opportunity to go, do it. As a bonus, some of the richest biological diversity in eastern North America surrounds the conference site. Insofar as I can ascertain, North Carolina, with its nearly 4,000 native plant species, hosts greater botanical diversity than any state east of the Mississippi River. And all that plant diversity means enormous animal diversity, not the least of which are moths.

Ah! The pink and yellow end of some magical creature protrudes from the closing flower of a primrose. 

In my plenary talk at the Cullowhee conference, which was on moths (based loosely on THIS BOOK), I had worked in the Primrose Moth for the first time in this presentation (which I have given scores of times). So maybe, courtesy of the moth gods, this was karmic payback for plugging the little gem.

There was no way that I was going to enter such a floriferous land and not do some heavy botanizing, and Shauna and I spent two hardcore days exploring the mountains near Cullowhee. At one point, near an overlook along the Blue Ridge Parkway, I noticed a large stand of Common Evening-primrose. Dozens of plants, and the flowers still mostly open as it was mid-morning. So off I set, carefully searching the dozens of plants for the moth above. Finally, with only a few plants left to inspect, Bingo!

We carefully held back a petal to better expose the stunning little moth. After the photo session, we pushed the petal back into place. This was only the third or fourth time that I've found the Primrose Moth, and trust me, I've looked at scads of flowers.

So, if you find yourself around a flowering stand of Common Evening-primrose, and time permits, take a look around and you might be rewarded with one of our most magical moths.

Euplectrus wasp larvae prey on inchworm caterpillar

 

As always, click the photo to enlarge

This weekend was the 17th annual Midwest Native Plant Conference near Dayton, Ohio, and it was a bang-up event as always. If you like plants and natural history, you should attend. It does fill up quickly, and the limit of around 200 attendees was reached in 12 hours after opening this year.

In addition to speakers, workshops, and numerous vendors, we provide plenty of field trip opportunities, including nocturnal prowls on the grounds of the Bergamo Center, which is rich in native flora and all manner of wildlife. Last night, we found this inchworm moth caterpillar (species unknown) that had been parasitized by a wasp in the genus Euplectrus. The female wasp lays eggs on the victim, from which the larvae soon hatch. She also injects a venom into the host which stops their growth but allows the caterpillar to remain active and feed. The larvae, which resemble little greenish easter eggs, feed externally, tapping into the soft larvae and extracting its hemolymph. A bad fate for the cat, which ultimately succumbs to the wasp larvae, but an amazing example of parasitoid predation.

A botanical hodgepodge

It's been a busy summer - aren't they all - and it's tough for me to post as often as I would like. But many, many years after starting this blog, it's still going strong and this is my 2,146th post.

I've been smitten with botanical photography for a long time, and am still, more so than ever. One might think that plant photography would be easy - certainly easier than swallows in flight, say - but it is tricky business to do well. And I'm not saying I do it well, but the following catalog will let you judge for yourself. This weekend marks the 17th annual Midwest Native Plant Conference, of which I am a founder and committee member. This year, I put together a revolving carousel of plant images to run between speakers in the big auditorium. Since I already had pulled out all those images from the archive, I thought I would share a few here.

Before we get on with the images, I am giving a photography workshop at Dawes Arboretum on September 20th, and another on October 17th for the Marion County Master Gardeners in Indianapolis, Indiana (calendar yet to be updated with this presentation). Both feature an illustrated PowerPoint presentation on the nuances of plant photography, and the Dawes session will also have an outdoor component after the presentation. Both will require registration, and I'd love to see you there.

And now, to the plants...

American Elm (Ulmus americana). Pickaway County, Ohio.

An American Goldfinch eagerly awaits the ripening of Compass-plant (Silphium laciniatum) seeds. Knox County, Ohio.

Appendaged Waterleaf (Hydrophyllum appendiculatum). Clark County, Ohio

A Comon Yellowthroat tees up on a Compass-plant (Silphium laciniatum) before taking a fat caterpillar to nearby nestlings.

Devil's-bit (Chamaelirium luteum), Sciot County, Ohio.

Downy Skullcap (Scutellaria incana), with stiltbug. Scioto County, Ohio.

Fringed Milkwort (Polygala paucifolia), Presque Isle County, Michigan.

Maryland Golden-aster (Chrysopsis mariana), Scioto County, Ohio.

Small Purple Fringed Orchid (Platanthera psycodes), Champaign County, Ohio.

Shale-barren Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium), Adams County, Ohio.

Starry Campion (Silene stellata), Vinton County, Ohio.

Stiff-leaved Aster (Ionactis linariifolius), Scioto County, Ohio.

Whorled Milkweed (Asclepias verticillata), Adams County, Ohio.

Turk's-cap Lily

 

As always, click the image to enlarge

A pair of Turk's-cap Lilies (Lilium superbum) creates an impressive candelabra of orange flowers. Between the two plants, there are twenty open blossoms, with more to come.

I was in Cullowhee, North Carolina, last weekend to speak at the Cullowhee Native Plant Conference. It's been going on for four decades, and is one of the largest such events with, I believe, somewhere around 500 attendees and an army of capable volunteers. I was there to speak about moths and their ecological importance as the Thursday night keynote. Thanks to the work of one of the Cullowhee volunteers, Lenny Lampel, who set up a pair of mothing sheets near the venue, we had a mothing party afterwards. I'd bet 100 or more people came to that and we had a great time. I highly recommend the Cullowhee Native Plant Conference, and if you get the chance, go!

As an enormous bonus, the surrounding mountains are rich in a fabulous diversity of flora, including these Turk's-cap Lilies, which were common along the Blue Ridge Parkway. Conference field trips take attendees to many of the great botanical hotspots. Shauna and I spent a few days post-conference exploring the region, and I made many photos of interesting subjects. Hopefully, if time permits, I will post some of those with accompanying stories here.

A Turk's-cap Lily flower in its full glory. The scientific name's epithet, superbum (superb) is certainly apropos.

American Woodcocks feeding, with video

 

An American Woodcock (Scolopax minor) works the mudflat, bill caked with mire. On July 12, Shauna and I made an early morning visit to a nearby hotspot, Glacier Ridge Metro Park in Union County, Ohio. We had visited this site a few days prior with the aim of shooting dragonflies in flight. That foray met with some success, but the bird life was so interesting that we focused on avifauna on the 7/12/2025 foray.

Especially notable were up to five American Woodcocks feeding out on the mudflat, sometimes venturing quite close. While I made the image above with my Canon 800mm f/5.6 (as with the others), I barely had to crop this photo and at times the bird wandered inside the 14-foot minimum focus distance of the lens. Needless to say, it was a wonderful opportunity to observe woodcocks busily feeding, and that's what we concentrated on.

A woodcock tugs a long, elastic worm from the muck. Sorry, I do not know the species or even group that the "worm" belongs to, but whatever they are there are plenty of them. We saw and photographed many such captures.

Apparently, no one is quite sure how woodcocks divine the location of subterranean worms. Visually? By sound or vibration? Rooting about in the mire with their sensitive bill tips? Probably a combination of these, and who knows whatever else, I would say.

Sometimes it would appear that a bird would spot something, move quickly towards it, plunge its bill into the soil, root around, and extract a worm. Other times the woodcock would clearly be engaged in exploratory probing, plunging its bill deep into the ground, searching with rapid sewing machine-like motions. Then, apparently when prey was detected, it would freeze for a bit, and we knew it was likely that a worm would soon be pulled above ground.

Woodcocks can move the upper bill mandible independently, allowing the bird to open the tip and grasp objects under the ground and sight unseen. The terminal end of the upper mandible is also beset with sensitive nerve endings, aiding the bird in tactile sensory recognition.

I was fascinated by this woodcock duo and spent much time keeping tabs on them. Photos were tough due to the distance, but documentary shots such as the one above were possible. Note that the just captured worm is being held in the bills of both birds! This was not an anomaly, I saw the same scene play out at least a dozen times and got images of probably a half-dozen different episodes of this joint feeding behavior.

Virtually all of the literature that I have seen describes the American Woodcock as completely solitary, at nearly all times of year. The pair only forms a brief union to mate, then the male goes his own way. Apparently the same is true for feeding behavior, and the other woodcocks that were present did maintain good distances from one another,

One might wonder if one of the birds is a juvenile, and the other the mother. But that would seem highly unlikely. Woodcock chicks can forage for food within 3-4 days of hatching, and maternal care ends after a week or so, apparently. By this point in their development, the parental bond should be long broken.

I wonder if it might be some sort of communal feeding strategy in that the participation of both birds ups the odds of finding food. The two birds rarely got any further apart than the distance in that photo, and often both of them had their bills buried in the same immediate vicinity. As near as I could tell, only one bird would eat the worm - they never appeared to pull it apart so that each got a piece. And both birds captured food, not just one.

Anyway, it's normally about impossible to watch feeding woodcocks in typical brushy/grassy/otherwise thickly vegetated habitat, so there may be feeding strategies that we don't know about.

Or perhaps I'm just missing something obvious. If you can shed light on this behavior, please leave a comment.

Finally, here's a video of a feeding American Woodcock, as it sashays about with its distinctive, comical gait.

Nature: Rattlesnakes are not something to be greatly feared

 

A timber rattlesnake is coiled in a greenbrier thicket/Jim McCormac

Nature: Rattlesnakes are not something to be greatly feared

July 6, 2025

Ophidiophobia (fear of snakes) is very common, and people take that to extremes with rattlesnakes, which are much persecuted.

Essentially, people and timber rattlesnakes do not mix, although the failure to abide one another is mostly the fault of humans. In essence, to conserve a fascinating part of Ohio’s biodiversity, we must have very large spaces mostly free of humans, and fortunately we do, thanks in major part to the Ohio Department of Natural Resources and The Nature Conservancy.

On June 21, Shauna Weyrauch and I met up with snake researcher John Howard in a remote southern Ohio locale. Our mission? Tracking a big old timber rattlesnake that had been fitted with a radio transmitter. It was uphill all the way as we gradually ascended to a dry oak-hickory ridgetop via switchback trails.

After maybe three-quarters of a mile, Howard fired up his receiver to check for feedback from the snake. Nothing, so we moved ever higher up the trail. Finally, nearly a mile in, we picked up faint beeps and honed in on our quarry. Nearly a mile and half from our starting point, we reached ground zero.

The transmitter beeps came loud and fast, and Howard pointed to a brushy tangle about 12 feet away and said, “There it is.”

We glanced over to see a 4-foot rattler slowly slithering away and moved in. The snake froze, as they usually do when they know they’ve been made by people. Timber rattlesnakes rely on excellent camouflage patterning to blend in with their surroundings.

In this case, we had no need to capture or handle the snake; the mission was purely to monitor its whereabouts. Howard had earlier relocated the animal to this locale, as it was headed to some habitations where residents were known to be decidedly unfriendly to rattlers. He was pleased to see that it was remaining in the wildlands.

This was about the 15th timber rattlesnake that I’ve seen, and it was one of the most impressive. It measured about 4 feet in length and probably weighed over 3 pounds. Howard estimated its age at 30 years or so.

One of the most impressive aspects of an old rattlesnake is the girth. The middle section of its body had a greater circumference than Arnold Schwarzenegger’s forearms at his prime.

After a bit, the snake, in a rare show of agitation, began rattling. From my experience, if not unduly bothered, they seldom do this. It gave us an opportunity to hear the surprisingly loud buzzing created by the rattles.

We soon decided our reptilian buddy had enough of our act and back down the mountain we went, pleased the snake was staying in unpeopled hinterlands.

There are only three venomous (not poisonous) snakes in the state, and only the copperhead can be locally common in parts of southern and eastern Ohio. Our other rattlesnake, the eastern massasauga, is a rare inhabitant of wet prairies, fens and other high-quality wetlands.

Deaths from venomous snake bites are virtually unheard of, especially in this day and age, due to better medical care and antivenoms. While the larger timber rattlesnake packs more of a punch than copperheads or massasaugas, bites are exceedingly rare.

One case happened on July 12, 1947, near Chillicothe in Ross County. Mary Ann Butterbaugh was struck by a rattlesnake that had hidden in her garden. She received prompt medical treatment, seemed to be recovering, but died six days later. Hers is the last known death by a venomous snake in Ohio.

Unlike people, chipmunks, mice, squirrels and other small mammals are justified in worrying about timber rattlesnake bites. Such animals are the snakes’ stock in trade.

Prior to European settlement, when Ohio was 95% forested, timber rattlesnakes would have been common nearly statewide. With the advent of settlement and ever more people, the snakes and their habitat suffered greatly. Now, only relict populations persist in a half-dozen southcentral counties.

I suppose many people would wonder why we would even want to conserve an animal like the timber rattlesnake. As I have heard more than a few times, when speaking of lesser-loved creatures, “What good is it?”

I always want to reply, “What good are you?” The time is long past for people to persecute those things they don’t like, or for which they see no personal value for and accept that other creatures have intrinsic value in addition to ecological value.

We have laid waste to enormous swaths of habitat and caused the disappearance or endangerment of scores of plants and animals. Over 99% of the original prairies are gone.

Well over 90% of Ohio’s original wetlands have been drained or otherwise destroyed. Most of our woodlands have been cut and developed, and most that remain are badly fragmented.

Intact large-scale vestiges of our forested past are all too rare, and there is no better symbol of wooded wilderness than the timber rattlesnake.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first and third Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at jim mccormac.blogspot.com.

Reddish-brown Stag Beetles: A Boom Year?

 

Needless to say, we were quite pleased with the appearance of this Reddish-brown Stag Beetle (Lucanus capreolus) on the evening of June 21, 2025. A group of us were at John Howard's place in Adams County, Ohio, mothing, and the beetle came into the illuminated sheet, as they sometimes do.

Face on with the formidable bug. Stag beetles are among our more impressive coleopterans and generally garner a reaction when they appear. I've heard from a number of people regarding sightings this summer, and it would seem that the beetles may be experiencing a boom year, as they sometimes do.

CLICK HERE to read a column I wrote about an irruption of stag beetles back in 2017.

And if you want to see the holy grail of stag beetles, at least in this part of the world, CLICK HERE.

Stygian Shadowdragons

As always, click the image to enlarge

A Stygian Shadowdragon (Neurocordulia yamaskensis) dangles from a branch. This dragonfly - and our other two shadowdragon species - are amongst our most enigmatic dragonflies. Well-named, shadowdragons do not commence flying until it is nearly dark and it's very tough to see them, let alone make photos.

Shauna, me and a number of friends went mothing at John Howard's place in Adams County (Ohio) last Saturday night (June 21, 2025) and were amazed to see up to eight Stygian Shadowdragons at the sheet at once. While some literature states that shadowdragons are crepuscular and fly only for brief periods at dawn and dusk, they almost certainly hunt throughout the night. Or they wouldn't appear at an illuminated mothing station far from the stream in such numbers. And this event wasn't a once-off - shadowdragons regular appear at night at illuminated mothing sheets. Note the damage to the lower right wing of the individual on the right. It looks like the result of a bat attack, and bats would be a real threat to these strange nocturnal dragons.

Face on with a Stygian Shadowdragon. I wonder what specialized adaptations those eyes have to see well in the gloom of night. Most dragonflies are very much creatures of the sun, but shadowdragons buck the dominant odonata paradigm.

It was a real treat to work with these normally hard to photograph dragonflies. I have seen them before, but imagery was impossible, as it was nearly dark by the time they commenced flight.

Thanks to John for hosting us, and for luring these amazing dragons. Oh, the mothing was quite good, too, but for me, they were overshadowed by the shadowdragons.

A hodge-podge of plants from recent weeks

 

As always, click the photo to enlarge

Devil's-bit (Chamaelirium luteum), Shawnee State Forest, Scioto County, Ohio. June 1, 2025.

Deerberry (Vaccinium stamineum), Shawnee State Forest, Scioto County, Ohio. May 7, 2025.

Philadelphia Fleabane (Erigeron philadelphicus), Shawnee State Forest, Scioto County, Ohio. May 7, 2025.

Robin's-plantain (Erigeron pulchellus), Shawnee State Forest, Scioto County, Ohio. May 7, 2025.

Seaside Arrowgrass (Triglochin maritimum), Cedar Bog, Champaign County, Ohio. June 13, 2025.

Southern Blue Flag (Iris virginica), St. Marys River, Mercer County, Ohio. June 17, 2025.

White Milkweed (Asclepias variegata), Shawnee State Forest, Scioto County, Ohio, June 1, 2025.

Nature: The beauty of a red-shouldered hawk

 

The adult female red-shouldered hawk perches near her nest.

Columbus Dispatch

Nature: The beauty of a red-shouldered hawk

June 15, 2025

Before European settlement, when 95% of Ohio was blanketed in forests, red-shouldered hawks were common. But rampant deforestation that left only 10% of the state tree-covered by the early 1900s sent hawk numbers plummeting.

Ohio’s forests have rebounded, both in expanse and age. More and bigger timber means more red-shouldered hawks, even in urban Columbus and its suburbs. As the trees in our older neighborhoods, such as Clintonville and Worthington (founded in 1803), have matured, red-shoulders have moved in and are steadily increasing.

Adult birds are conspicuously barred with stripes of rich brick-red color below. The colorful underparts are set off nicely by zebra-like black-and-white barring on the upper parts.

A red-shouldered hawk chick in its nest. Its two nest mates are hunkered down.

While red-shouldered hawks don’t sing like songbirds, they do deliver a loud piercing scream. Blue jays mimic the call to perfection and use it to scatter birds at the feeder, thus eliminating the competition.

I live in Worthington, and unknowingly, I was driving nearly daily right past an active, red-shouldered hawk nest less than half a block up the street. A friend and neighbor, Mark Granger, told me about it back in early May. The nest is high in a lofty honey locust tree and easy to miss, at least from a vehicle.

I eventually introduced myself to Dave and Sara, the homeowners. You couldn’t meet two nicer people, and the suburban hawks have great landlords. The nest is nearly over their driveway, and their two boys, Caleb and Isaac, spend much time out front shooting baskets nearly under the nest.

When Shauna and I visited to get photos, I chatted with Caleb and his friend Charlie, who are quite interested in the birds. The raptors are utterly unfazed by the young hoopsters practicing below and couldn’t have selected a safer location for their nest, which is home to three chicks.

Indeed, I wonder if red-shouldered hawks sometimes intentionally choose sites with plenty of human activity. While the male is part of the nesting process during the nest-building and incubation period — even helping to incubate eggs — he largely vanishes once the chicks hatch. Thus, the female spends long periods away hunting, and the presence of people certainly would help to deter would-be predators in her absence.

Red-shouldered hawks have a varied diet: everything from snakes to frogs to small mammals.

While red-shoulders don’t generally have huge territories, this bird probably ranges as far as the nearby Olentangy River. Its streamside forests would provide plenty of prey, and the neighborhood chipmunks best beware. They are often a dietary staple. The female will rip prey into manageable pieces for the chicks.

Dave and Sara’s red-shouldered hawk chicks look to be about two weeks or so from taking their first flight. The youngsters that make it are likely to return to the same general area next year to start nests of their own, thus further increasing Franklin County’s suburban, red-shouldered hawk population.

The red-shouldered hawk longevity record is 26 years. Dave, Sara, Caleb and Isaac might be the lucky landlords of red-shouldered hawks for some time to come.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first and third Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at jim mccormac.blogspot.com.