tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60724790634522334502024-03-19T06:06:16.359-04:00Ohio Birds and BiodiversityA romp through the diverse flora and fauna of Ohio. From Timber Rattlesnakes to Prairie Warblers to Lakeside Daisies to Woodchucks, you'll eventually see it here, if it isn't already.Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.comBlogger2328125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-28548440056471842432024-03-17T21:28:00.001-04:002024-03-17T21:28:48.433-04:00Eastern Red Bats, moths, and leaf litter<p>Hi all, and thanks as always for reading! Sorry for the long (for me) lapse in posts. Things have been a bit busy of late, and it's been tough to carve time out to sit down and craft a new piece. But here we are, and away we go.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhtoG-hCEq2erHXb4byHe80DoZctVKuBCRI6VPP9A769ipOLs4Z3OSvacM1abHPIMoIfiqHkR32Y8n9twaadXugGqV5sjsybkWij-4pXTiq9e-Dlx8drdsBpp-cZkowrf0zwgeh4P9-DWVd7G_gfzHnD4lSpshMF6ZkLl_dkZ4KViSrUxjm1yPry_I6o/s2599/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasiurus%20borealis,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(12)%20copy-2%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="2599" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhtoG-hCEq2erHXb4byHe80DoZctVKuBCRI6VPP9A769ipOLs4Z3OSvacM1abHPIMoIfiqHkR32Y8n9twaadXugGqV5sjsybkWij-4pXTiq9e-Dlx8drdsBpp-cZkowrf0zwgeh4P9-DWVd7G_gfzHnD4lSpshMF6ZkLl_dkZ4KViSrUxjm1yPry_I6o/w400-h301/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasiurus%20borealis,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(12)%20copy-2%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>An Eastern Red Bat (<i>Lasiurus borealis</i>) nestles among the leaves of an American Beech (<i>Fagus grandifolia</i>). This species is the consummate tree bat, and its range mirrors that of the great eastern deciduous forest, which spans the eastern half of the U.S., stretching from the Gulf Coast into southern Canada.<div><br /></div><div>Shauna Weyrauch and I have had some interesting field excursions of late, two of which involved inspecting relatively small woodlands in central Ohio. In one, we found the bat pictured above, and in the other, we found not one, but two bats ensconced in a beech. These experiences got me thinking a bit deeper about the tiny bats (as little as 10-12 grams! About the same weight as a Song Sparrow!).</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JZwkh7woK_ldOv3Tx9Px-yv2ZV6TWXPcrg98xMoVeGW5j94KREeHiApQnsill_C5m4bYg9-g70JtHSbVE9BT72oSfKusVRbyOcVH5Sfx-5_NbsW3NTaN8SKWlYxJWXdNplh9h6l5ffAG68WjBiTmQRcf6vPRjabBwcGt0FXC692jwtBSUwu2XsNsAKs/s2731/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasiurus%20borealis,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(6)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1821" data-original-width="2731" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JZwkh7woK_ldOv3Tx9Px-yv2ZV6TWXPcrg98xMoVeGW5j94KREeHiApQnsill_C5m4bYg9-g70JtHSbVE9BT72oSfKusVRbyOcVH5Sfx-5_NbsW3NTaN8SKWlYxJWXdNplh9h6l5ffAG68WjBiTmQRcf6vPRjabBwcGt0FXC692jwtBSUwu2XsNsAKs/w400-h266/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasiurus%20borealis,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(6)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A young American Beech in a Franklin County, Ohio woodland. Beech typically retains many leaves throughout the winter, and they are still on the tree come spring. Also note the rich leaf litter on the forest floor. By the way, the Red Bat pictured above is in this photo, towards the far-left side of the leafy limb that sticks out the furthest. It looks like a little dark blob.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Ro-PboxUFYCJTnHn2eElZeEMJVExLRS5vNHGD7Ruk92CSRtUMMJzdWNYvkGHcdG67pWBIDXzkoSy2xk0GIEKoNstb_uwoTPQ8yyXnZ3YgyulX3_7VhITZwfpTzWmAK5xzzbe2BGGEtHW2KZy0eeKHFDAwaL-4Yc-T7cEiFB9bzLiozaVi0uDHBeV6vw/s2731/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasiurus%20borealis,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(7)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1821" data-original-width="2731" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Ro-PboxUFYCJTnHn2eElZeEMJVExLRS5vNHGD7Ruk92CSRtUMMJzdWNYvkGHcdG67pWBIDXzkoSy2xk0GIEKoNstb_uwoTPQ8yyXnZ3YgyulX3_7VhITZwfpTzWmAK5xzzbe2BGGEtHW2KZy0eeKHFDAwaL-4Yc-T7cEiFB9bzLiozaVi0uDHBeV6vw/w400-h266/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasiurus%20borealis,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(7)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We move in a bit closer, and now you'll probably see the wee mammal. After one gets the search image, it isn't too tough to spot roosting Red Bats - if you're giving the trees the once-over. Beech seems to be the best host, at least that's the plant that I've found most of them in. They likely hide among long-persistent oak leaves as well and are known to roost on the ground buried in leaf litter. I once saw one making aerial hunting forays during the day and the bat would return to hide under exfoliating bark high in a hickory between runs. But beech may be the easiest to find them in, and it's always worth giving trees like the one above a good look.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW92-L5LUUz8sFU1lu9Fhooe4zbLmMeFT9e37Ld1DXNmyRrnB2EXt3b05fvkt1DhweBkWvm_V7hpOWAob-RCpXcJ93VjJqa4UnH78AZAThwoBrUprmMAP5oVrw8lnGmB7EehPUdxHtLCRVfNrVuYPCmZlD5WzZQ72V6HLfIpdvLnST9KANlWyJlZSMVAU/s6070/Common%20Oak%20Moth,%20Phoberia%20atomaris,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(4)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4074" data-original-width="6070" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW92-L5LUUz8sFU1lu9Fhooe4zbLmMeFT9e37Ld1DXNmyRrnB2EXt3b05fvkt1DhweBkWvm_V7hpOWAob-RCpXcJ93VjJqa4UnH78AZAThwoBrUprmMAP5oVrw8lnGmB7EehPUdxHtLCRVfNrVuYPCmZlD5WzZQ72V6HLfIpdvLnST9KANlWyJlZSMVAU/w400-h269/Common%20Oak%20Moth,%20Phoberia%20atomaris,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(4)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A Common Oak Moth (<i>Phoberia atomaris</i>) rests in leaf litter. As soon as we entered this woods, we began flushing moths from the litter. As it was pretty early - March 14 - I was keen to know what they were. Not many moths are yet out. It didn't take too long to get an answer, and we went on to see many of these oak moths. It seemed that every we flushed and saw well was this species, and that was quite a few.<div><br /></div><div>Moths that emerge this early - this species overwinters as pupa in leaf litter - may be tied to early spring sap flow in trees. There are few if any floriferous nectar sources yet available, but sap provides a ready source of sugar for energy and a number of moth species visit oozing sap.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-D6u1iqOFkD7kUQ7CPzFZGz67SPRlphPHMPB_7_IiuCRLI7Efu9RA_6rGoIUIPogCjaaGYpuKYjOdyCo-FI2S2LXWM6Mmw8_AXrR-w89frDRYIjGyL0GjLFZsS_mJnndrUTiFQymF-mObuXjYJS-4JK9VNt9qwC-yvI6NGlklwlSgcfeDoxlQ_dX7Ejo/s3630/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasiurus%20borealis,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(9)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3630" data-original-width="3318" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-D6u1iqOFkD7kUQ7CPzFZGz67SPRlphPHMPB_7_IiuCRLI7Efu9RA_6rGoIUIPogCjaaGYpuKYjOdyCo-FI2S2LXWM6Mmw8_AXrR-w89frDRYIjGyL0GjLFZsS_mJnndrUTiFQymF-mObuXjYJS-4JK9VNt9qwC-yvI6NGlklwlSgcfeDoxlQ_dX7Ejo/w365-h400/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasiurus%20borealis,%20Blendon%20Ravines%20Metropark,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2014,%202024%20(9)%20copy.jpg" width="365" /></a></div>Face on with an Eastern Red Bat. Moths are the number one prey group for eastern bats, and relatively hefty oak moths as in the previous photo would make quite a meal for the little mammals.<div><br /></div><div>I was especially interested in the potential moth-bat link as I've never encountered Eastern Red Bats in March and think of them as largely an April/May phenomenon. A quick glance at iNaturalist also shows many more April than March records at this latitude.</div><div><br /></div><div>Red Bats are migratory, and it's thought that the majority of bats at northerly latitudes, including Ohio, migrate to southeastern states for the winter, and return in spring. Perhaps the earliest returnees are synced to arrive when very early spring sap-feeding moths emerge? These March sap-feeders are quite hardy and can fly in low temperatures. I once saw scores of Morrison's Sallow moths (<i>Eupsilia morrisonii</i>) flying about a northern Ohio woodlot on a March night when temperatures were in the mid-30's.</div><div><br /></div><div>Another possibility is that the bats that we are encountering in early/mid-March are ones that overwintered. My hunch, though, is that they are migrants moving north with the first warm days, as the weather was in the 60's and even low 70's F for a few days preceding our observations.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsEywA0VenUEPUOPsklVfMVmRQuuFCkFCeZmP4p0PgGkztgD9gHEz2mbodL3A9MT3sYE7dMzLZV1q9FcorVhGX-21ief7Fzv4D3pmnAJAo5H5cR1mS4rZ5hMVzDaRfw7kf9JZ9cLqmGR0HaaCd_CKtuxgfL7bzXbdpqB7VOhqYBp6YoM1AKRhHHafXTM/s4547/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasionurus%20borealis,%20Camlin-Tammen%20Reserve,%20Licking%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2015,%202024%20(2)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4547" data-original-width="3930" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsEywA0VenUEPUOPsklVfMVmRQuuFCkFCeZmP4p0PgGkztgD9gHEz2mbodL3A9MT3sYE7dMzLZV1q9FcorVhGX-21ief7Fzv4D3pmnAJAo5H5cR1mS4rZ5hMVzDaRfw7kf9JZ9cLqmGR0HaaCd_CKtuxgfL7bzXbdpqB7VOhqYBp6YoM1AKRhHHafXTM/w346-h400/Eastern%20Red%20Bat,%20Lasionurus%20borealis,%20Camlin-Tammen%20Reserve,%20Licking%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%2015,%202024%20(2)%20copy.jpg" width="346" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">An Eastern Red Bat tucked into senescent beech leaves.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A great many moths (bat food) are highly dependent upon leaf litter. As noted, the Common Oak Moth pupates in leaf litter, and habitually hides in it during the day. When flushed, the moths quickly return to the litter and often scuttle under the leaves. The aforementioned Morrison's Sallow overwinters as adults, but probably also spends its days hiding among leaf litter, along with numerous other species. There is even a subfamily of moths known as litter moths, as the caterpillars feed on dead leaves.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Leaf litter spawns lots of bat food in the form of moths. Fortunately, we don't generally have to worry about the leaf-blower crowd taking to the forest. But those dastardly devices do enough damage in areas where leaves should remain. Even suburban/urban gardens can produce plenty of moths if leaves remain in garden beds and other places where there is no reason to blow them away.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It remains to be seen how the continuing onslaught of nonnative invasive earthworms will impact moth production. These worms can transform an ordinarily leafy forest floor to bare dirt in short order. I've seen the effects, and it is dramatic. Presumably, such litter decimation has an adverse impact on litter moth production and by extension bats. If you aren't familiar with the worm issue, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invasive_earthworms_of_North_America">CLICK HERE</a>.</div><div><br /><div><div>Be sure and scope out any leafy beech you might encounter this spring. Look for little dark reddish blobs among the senescent brown beech leaves. The odds of finding one probably increase if a stream is nearby, as bats often hunt over stream corridors at night. Search enough beech and sooner or later you'll turn one up. It's a magical experience.</div></div></div></div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-52305328590263654612024-03-04T12:47:00.002-05:002024-03-04T12:47:53.823-05:00Bewick's Swan: An Ohio First<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlPIsuv2Llcl3aZTjGxG2guEXqrRyTZ2V3Izsiu1WxoYeRW4InDCM5RDrbciE7enmzJ_X7UkEizWJsqJwGrETe_8Ut74zng1Lt7R1AaUDB4Qan0iKyCyJF8l1oXclA00WFTXeN7Uc0u4Jx8IBeqc-wjpZdnpAMP0DKyNc-zcAyHRFf8gWnaPuqb85TeHo/s5866/Tundra%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(17)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2484" data-original-width="5866" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlPIsuv2Llcl3aZTjGxG2guEXqrRyTZ2V3Izsiu1WxoYeRW4InDCM5RDrbciE7enmzJ_X7UkEizWJsqJwGrETe_8Ut74zng1Lt7R1AaUDB4Qan0iKyCyJF8l1oXclA00WFTXeN7Uc0u4Jx8IBeqc-wjpZdnpAMP0DKyNc-zcAyHRFf8gWnaPuqb85TeHo/w400-h170/Tundra%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(17)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">A quintet of Tundra Swans (<i>Cygnus columbianus</i>) prepares for landing.</div><p></p><p>I attended the annual <a href="https://ohiobluebirdsociety.org/">Ohio Bluebird Society's</a> annual meeting last Saturday, March 2, to speak about moths. Little known fact: The majority of the Eastern Bluebird's non-winter diet is moth caterpillars. Shauna and I had a great time, met lots of people, and I saw scads of friends that I haven't seen in a while. The Society is quite active and about 140 people were in attendance.</p><p>Afterwards, Shauna and I took the long way home, in order to visit Killbuck Marsh - one of the largest interior wetland complexes in Ohio. Killbuck lures scads of migratory waterfowl in spring, including large flocks of Tundra Swans (<i>Cygnus columbianus</i>). On February 23, Josh Yoder located a "Bewick's" Swan in a large flock of Tundra Swans, and I'd wanted to get up there to see it ever since. That bird was our primary target on this trip, and it wasn't hard to find, especially as many birders were on the scene.</p><p>The Bewick's Swan is now (mostly) considered to be a subspecies of the Tundra Swan (<i>Cygnus columbianus bewickii</i>). However, it has been considered a separate species in the past, and the American Ornithological Union didn't lump it into the Tundra Swan until 1983. While most authorities dealing with avian nomenclature and taxonomy consider it to be a subspecies at present, <a href="https://avibase.bsc-eoc.org/avibase.jsp?lang=EN">Avibase</a> separates the two.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc94XSOHLZBy8JOMHVovewo2wwcAngEsRR39PcHMk82Dhj8w8kvxFKoVEv0vfAEO5mxC4zNVMiFOVGBpiT_1UDxG14XdLLlZowyrKYXJdlJS9Oty0VV2CGWY67IF2zcopH66oTdGrSmUBXzbLwq29pRAGGQusCTxbuIvZercpGCaepG_s7gtAayHVQl5A/s4182/Tundra%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(13)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2736" data-original-width="4182" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc94XSOHLZBy8JOMHVovewo2wwcAngEsRR39PcHMk82Dhj8w8kvxFKoVEv0vfAEO5mxC4zNVMiFOVGBpiT_1UDxG14XdLLlZowyrKYXJdlJS9Oty0VV2CGWY67IF2zcopH66oTdGrSmUBXzbLwq29pRAGGQusCTxbuIvZercpGCaepG_s7gtAayHVQl5A/w400-h261/Tundra%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(13)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A pair of Tundra Swans drops in, landing gear extended. Don't expect National Geo-caliber imagery in this post. The flock of Tundra Swans that our target fraternized with was a LONG way across the marsh. Maybe 200 yards or so, so it took some photographic oomph to even get the documentary shots that I did. I used my Canon 800mm coupled with a 1.4x extender (1120mm) and that's generally not the ticket for sharp vibrant shots on a heavily overcast day. Nonetheless, the rig did allow me to capture diagnostic details of the bird in question.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFw490VZgwVAqquRUOOAtZGi8mhGiLrfOh0O8mGqXnWBnL2MWSgSsDqkHuRSCu0UZ6Ab7P_qm2fTm4UKCmErUEfQvX82B9hjGivzS90Xa1VQ68ejjvIKOeRWnDTx_8_Q_fEHoQu6FYpbwe4qkp0dbSd-9oLLlJvowEODgGT8lGrXry_BeJ018E-65n8k/s2742/Tundra%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(12)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2742" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkFw490VZgwVAqquRUOOAtZGi8mhGiLrfOh0O8mGqXnWBnL2MWSgSsDqkHuRSCu0UZ6Ab7P_qm2fTm4UKCmErUEfQvX82B9hjGivzS90Xa1VQ68ejjvIKOeRWnDTx_8_Q_fEHoQu6FYpbwe4qkp0dbSd-9oLLlJvowEODgGT8lGrXry_BeJ018E-65n8k/w400-h280/Tundra%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(12)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>As always, click the photo to enlarge</i></div><div><br /></div>As a point of comparison for the bird to follow, here's the nominate subspecies of Tundra Swan - the subspecies that occupies North America and occurs in Ohio during migratory periods. That's an adult on the left, with a juvenile facing away from the camera. Note the classic small yellow teardrop on the bill, in front of the eye. While some individuals can have all black bills, a little fleck of yellow as on this bird is pretty typical.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Z0XB6n8tvbokW3VGVqXxMr7ne4ECIs2AmKNxmR3iteEKcsFE8nl7PcVDd-m2LK2P80FBtsLcwSRXGJqSea_Nr2Pa-2pG9k3-TQlVmGgh03jqHBgFn3Z2nwAx95nBx9pcbXrrU6u8Sv_oLEkKck_eR9j0m2ceb2YIoEvEPv2S8jr0THlM2kkFF6W8WaI/s5447/Bewick's%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus%20bewickii,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(2)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3894" data-original-width="5447" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Z0XB6n8tvbokW3VGVqXxMr7ne4ECIs2AmKNxmR3iteEKcsFE8nl7PcVDd-m2LK2P80FBtsLcwSRXGJqSea_Nr2Pa-2pG9k3-TQlVmGgh03jqHBgFn3Z2nwAx95nBx9pcbXrrU6u8Sv_oLEkKck_eR9j0m2ceb2YIoEvEPv2S8jr0THlM2kkFF6W8WaI/w400-h286/Bewick's%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus%20bewickii,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(2)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>One of these swans is not like the other. Specifically, the bird second from right. Even from afar, the big yellow blotch on the bill stands out. A typical Tundra Swan shouldn't (couldn't?) ever show that much yellow.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdjwbf_5YyhkDYchvMAj7Qywn3sAtEJHhzeHb5zQtOvyUUy9XqNQQ3rrPunL1GENwGd-klUuxbQJj9rUG35MfDtG0CxCmrfwFz2vAAhsnpQHktUUl3QASDRfrKq9sskr0vlCmRYvF-kGG3msaq0hOWlh2nF4l8XcAhfK623c5D63LoAwgIdOa7lb_rh4/s640/640.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="448" data-original-width="640" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdjwbf_5YyhkDYchvMAj7Qywn3sAtEJHhzeHb5zQtOvyUUy9XqNQQ3rrPunL1GENwGd-klUuxbQJj9rUG35MfDtG0CxCmrfwFz2vAAhsnpQHktUUl3QASDRfrKq9sskr0vlCmRYvF-kGG3msaq0hOWlh2nF4l8XcAhfK623c5D63LoAwgIdOa7lb_rh4/w400-h280/640.png" width="400" /></a></div>Here's the range map of the Tundra Swan, courtesy of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology Birds of the World website (I'm a longtime subscriber, and anyone with a serious interest in birds should consider a subscription, found <a href="https://birdsoftheworld.org/bow/home">HERE</a>).<div><br /></div><div>For the most part, all of the birds represented in America are Tundra Swans, and those in Eurasia are Bewick's Swans. A rub: The nominate subspecies of Tundra Swan (the North American birds) also breed in eastern Siberia, and hybridization between the two subspecies occurs there.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkHFdKHxvlzaDi3T7mt7Vi6JfrPi6d-c0GvxRl52SkXvNKR1gtSoGCfDknoCeFXs7Z5JrFsARAdxt9uWBxhTGgeRW8WNPYUuyyapXJjpPQDFwq2EXaPZROuId4S6bPiJ3Rsrhwgqi62KCx8UtMTPqyjeKWYo9MmW_yASuwMhwoAbrkJJ1gCxYfWCljFg/s1272/Bewick's%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus%20bewickii,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(9)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="876" data-original-width="1272" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkHFdKHxvlzaDi3T7mt7Vi6JfrPi6d-c0GvxRl52SkXvNKR1gtSoGCfDknoCeFXs7Z5JrFsARAdxt9uWBxhTGgeRW8WNPYUuyyapXJjpPQDFwq2EXaPZROuId4S6bPiJ3Rsrhwgqi62KCx8UtMTPqyjeKWYo9MmW_yASuwMhwoAbrkJJ1gCxYfWCljFg/w400-h275/Bewick's%20Swan,%20Cygnus%20columbianus%20bewickii,%20Killbuck%20Marsh%20WA,%20Wayne%20County,%20Ohio,%20March%202,%202024%20(9)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Here's the best that I could do to photographically capture the Ohio Bewick's Swan. While that big splotch of yellow exceeds anything that could, or at least should, be present on a Tundra Swan, classic Bewick's Swans can show even more yellow. On some/many/most Bewick's, that yellow forms an even larger blotch, and can extend across the top of the bill to connect the two side patches. Whether the yellow marks increase in size with age, I do not know.<div><br /></div><div>Here is a germane quote from the Bird's of the World Tundra Swan account:</div><div><br /></div><i>Birds appearing identical to the Palearctic form (C. c. bewickii) reported occasionally in w. North America (Alaska, Alberta, Saskatchewan, Oregon, and California). Some of these are likely true bewickii, but others may be bewickii x columbianus intergrades from e. Siberia, or even variants of columbianus with excess yellow on the bill. The occasional bewickii reported farther east in North America may represent escapees from captivity.</i><div><i><br /></i></div><div>To address the latter point about escapees: While many species of waterfowl are kept - sometimes fairly commonly - in captivity, and occasionally escape, I don't think that's the case here. A search, less than comprehensive, admittedly, for Bewick's Swans for sale revealed nearly no sellers, and I've not personally heard of this subspecies being peddled by waterfowlers, at least in this part of the world. Also, the appearance of the Ohio bird syncs perfectly with the major northward push of Tundra Swans, and it is fraternizing with them. Presumably a wayward Bewick's Swan, prone to vagrancy, would also wander at this time of year. And more records have occurred in the east since that quoted paragraph above was written. eBird records about a dozen records to date from the eastern U.S. and Canada.</div><div><br /></div><div>The bigger question involves hybridization between the subspecies, and definitively answering that is well beyond my paygrade. While I've seen many thousands of the nominate Tundra Swan subspecies, I've got next to no experience with Bewick's Swan. I think it would be very helpful to get images of this bird to someone who sees lots of Bewick's Swans and understands their variability, and especially the appearance of hybrids between the subspecies.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>NOTE</b>: It is always helpful to remember that "species" are merely a human compartmentalization scheme. All species are in a constant state of evolution and where one draws the line of separation between two very similar "species" or especially "subspecies" is almost always somewhat arbitrary.</div><div><br /></div><div>Any way one slices this swan, it was a great find by Josh Yoder, and the bird offers interesting food for thought, in addition to its undeniable curb appeal. It is an apparent first state record for Ohio, and one of very few reports anywhere in eastern North America.</div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-27706026390812524562024-02-29T13:07:00.002-05:002024-02-29T13:07:10.753-05:00The first wildflowers erupt<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5yq6xb1aw0ano6H4AtLT-_gYW-bYs0hozrFFGt5Iz62pllh3ZLptnBYImTMRuW4YPZ0sq7bT3hotUvdjHqvPx4mQlg0JZo2vvqXt_aP1sRR7pIL8vP58qfihrBBpVSNMeLJcUSaWT2JX5cv7RP7FBU4mcjizHPLL-u4esmaprbC-xI5D9BDSUcYAapu8/s4381/Ivy-leaved%20Speedwell,%20Veronica%20hederifolia,%20Ohio%20River%20Bluffs,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(8)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4357" data-original-width="4381" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5yq6xb1aw0ano6H4AtLT-_gYW-bYs0hozrFFGt5Iz62pllh3ZLptnBYImTMRuW4YPZ0sq7bT3hotUvdjHqvPx4mQlg0JZo2vvqXt_aP1sRR7pIL8vP58qfihrBBpVSNMeLJcUSaWT2JX5cv7RP7FBU4mcjizHPLL-u4esmaprbC-xI5D9BDSUcYAapu8/w400-h398/Ivy-leaved%20Speedwell,%20Veronica%20hederifolia,%20Ohio%20River%20Bluffs,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(8)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Ivy-leaved Speedwell (<i>Veronica hederifolia</i>) was in full bloom on south-facing slopes of the Ohio River last Saturday, February 24. Shauna Weyrauch and I visited the deep south of Ohio last weekend seeking, among other things, early flora. This species was not a primary target. Little Eurasian weeds such as this speedwell are always among the first flowers to bloom, and some of them, such as Dandelion (<i>Taraxacum officinale</i>) can be found in flower any month of the year. On this excursion, native plants were our goal, but I could not resist an image of the showy speedwell flower.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNipyWZArE9fz4mb4wO9mROsyVP_wmz3VQsjSZkKHmTuueSImUpBe5lNFNeQqEXS36eQO9ZprQCmyNC1ikmgLUStVXPop_UC3AtGnf4KRruACX6jJmf1E52ECfP-KkpRYug9eZD_1bAnPcut68ZUWKLTfedSl_LNF81Pv9OsvFJGt4E55qnFkHY7kPss/s4067/Snow%20Trillium,%20Trillium%20nivale,%20Chalet%20Nivale,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(1)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="4067" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNipyWZArE9fz4mb4wO9mROsyVP_wmz3VQsjSZkKHmTuueSImUpBe5lNFNeQqEXS36eQO9ZprQCmyNC1ikmgLUStVXPop_UC3AtGnf4KRruACX6jJmf1E52ECfP-KkpRYug9eZD_1bAnPcut68ZUWKLTfedSl_LNF81Pv9OsvFJGt4E55qnFkHY7kPss/w400-h284/Snow%20Trillium,%20Trillium%20nivale,%20Chalet%20Nivale,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(1)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Our first stop was the Arc of Appalachia's <a href="https://www.arcofappalachia.org/chalet-nivale">Chalet Nivale Preserve</a> in Adams County. The "Nivale" in the name refers to <i>Trillium nivale</i>, or Snow Trillium. Thousands of the tiny lily relatives occur there, and it is the first of Ohio's seven trillium species (used to have eight. <i>Trillium cernuum</i> is considered extirpated and was only documented once, in 1879 in Lake County) to bloom.<div><br /></div><div>While February 24 might seem early for this species and the ones that follow to be in flower, such enthusiasm to burst from the soil is not atypical. We saw maybe 30 trilliums in flower, out of the many thousands that occur at this site. Unless there is heavy snow and extreme cold in late February - an ever-rarer occurrence, it seems - one can nearly always find a few ambitious specimens of our earliest species to bloom.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gwMMfMUu-yd9iw5r56BJG0xFS8Q6ugmJc8bqq-nFbySQt7u0JPFd6Ch8-zp7beneo8iiXdIqOGKuYIyQbqM-MT9KM86YaRpBOP7Y4NDDXYcaYZgur0R6touZ7Hq1kWe_cQLZdrw4JaOyY_l8fGOz8YevEwEtDeU6Eju9uyO1tN18QyX5bn08HPAvOyk/s2377/Virginia%20Bluebells,%20Mertensia%20virginica,%20Ohio%20River%20Bluffs,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(6)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1788" data-original-width="2377" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gwMMfMUu-yd9iw5r56BJG0xFS8Q6ugmJc8bqq-nFbySQt7u0JPFd6Ch8-zp7beneo8iiXdIqOGKuYIyQbqM-MT9KM86YaRpBOP7Y4NDDXYcaYZgur0R6touZ7Hq1kWe_cQLZdrw4JaOyY_l8fGOz8YevEwEtDeU6Eju9uyO1tN18QyX5bn08HPAvOyk/w400-h301/Virginia%20Bluebells,%20Mertensia%20virginica,%20Ohio%20River%20Bluffs,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(6)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A brave Virginia Bluebell (<i>Mertensia virginica</i>) thrusts forth a flower and several buds. Our next stop was the Arc of Appalachia's Ohio River Bluffs Preserve, which overlooks the Ohio River and the hills of Kentucky. The steep south-facing wooded slopes always spawn early wildflowers, often a week or more before other sites in southern Ohio.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Bluffs are famed for their huge carpets of bluebells, and they'll probably be peaking around mid-March. Scores of densely tufted rosettes were out of the ground on our visit, but almost none had managed to produce blooms like the hardy specimen in the photo. It was about 28 F when I took the picture.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisU3QwnD_5kuDA0XDyWYe6F6KP5cPGZjVDo5bWqjIDse3OTLX7ndh7xT9Sy8d3U3l74Ke0OLFrIXNO5TSh6i6wgwBs3ODlaFpCZL36Bx1SqsAziwWZDLT8e6SBeuBjnWPxGrlEirrpD5LUOLZrxdLiznNQZZaBcx1Peoa0M4uNrhnwnKQLJATdL_MWHOY/s3756/Harbinger-of-spring,%20Erigenia%20bulbosa,%20Ohio%20River%20Bluffs,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(5)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3438" data-original-width="3756" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisU3QwnD_5kuDA0XDyWYe6F6KP5cPGZjVDo5bWqjIDse3OTLX7ndh7xT9Sy8d3U3l74Ke0OLFrIXNO5TSh6i6wgwBs3ODlaFpCZL36Bx1SqsAziwWZDLT8e6SBeuBjnWPxGrlEirrpD5LUOLZrxdLiznNQZZaBcx1Peoa0M4uNrhnwnKQLJATdL_MWHOY/w400-h366/Harbinger-of-spring,%20Erigenia%20bulbosa,%20Ohio%20River%20Bluffs,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(5)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Unsurprising but always welcome was the aptly named Harbinger-of-spring (<i>Erigenia bulbosa</i>). The elfin parsley is to be expected by late February, but while there were scores of rosettes, this was one of few flowering specimens that we saw.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>PHOTOGRAPHY NOTES</b>: When shooting wildflowers, it is important to get on the level of the subject. I sometimes handhold - if I can get a fast enough shutter speed - and have the camera's body on the ground. That's what I was doing here. Harbinger-of-spring is only a few inches in height, and to get the beautiful creamy bokeh (background) there cannot be distractions like leaf litter immediately behind the subject. Plus, getting on the subject's level creates an intimacy lost when standing or kneeling and shooting down on the plant.</div><div><br /></div><div>More often than not, though, I prefer to have the camera mounted on a tripod. And the Oben CTT-1000 is killer for wee subjects, the best I've yet found. It is carbon fiber, weighs nearly nothing, is highly adjustable and splays flat on the ground if you want. This micro-tripod is only about $90, and so small it tucks easily in my backpack. Jeff B. has them <a href="https://www.amazon.com/CTT-1000-Carbon-Fiber-Tabletop-Tripod/dp/B0053EBI1S/ref=sr_1_2?crid=22SOASLWY9B2U&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.RXS83adyhs2GlxMrDY2n32MWz7EL7_oxP_5E6jsWGgcNLDCDR0Xt32rV7Cf7FyCaQB3L38uLGbvgkb95AL9QLGUFUEINW42WMrb_1JoCO7WrxX9SkGCMy989G7Rs1b4BKPcJtz6LniXjAtzM1P1PZuvel9p5Pw8MrgLqV5Kqlo7Dy__hQ7_KJCG_lMHQSpse.eLd3EGiUR2k9xg4T6mzSoSf2PtTFErXSZoja-FT6nOE&dib_tag=se&keywords=oben%2Bctt-1000&qid=1709227924&sprefix=oben%2Bct%2Caps%2C110&sr=8-2&th=1">RIGHT HERE</a> and will promptly ship it to your door.</div><div><br /></div><div>The advantage of having the rig stabilized on a tripod is that my favorite settings can be used. I like to shoot at very low ISO settings, usually 100 or 200, and that can mean really low shutter speeds. Somewhat offsetting that is the wider apertures that I favor for plants, which usually range from f/4 to f/7.1, rarely smaller. As long as wind isn't a factor, shutter speed is irrelevant when working from a tripod. This Harbinger-of-spring shot was an exception to my standard apertures: I shot it at f/9 (at 1/30 second), to get a bit more depth through the inflorescence, and because there were no potentially distracting objects behind my subject. With no need to hold the camera, I can use two-second timer delay, so that I'm not even touching the camera when it fires. The Canon R5 has the ability to just touch the rear screen, and it instantly focuses on the spot that you touched and then immediately initiates the shot process. Two seconds later, the camera fires. Flash? Never, or nearly never, if the subject is a plant. Flash typically imparts a harshness to the subject, and harshness is not what I'm after with wildflowers.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3THmFNeuV5OFYSxpW5aBWrhKa07HGNiGX5aEbHiFaKldbS5FzSlkSjGdE-_tRhOAepfmNEBQP5MY6Icn5eNqvEVdVoTYcziCEzcXiHZz9ysF0JTJxna4ZbLxPlhxl1QF7bV9W101BbdvrFqkEtKycD19gXEX5tyXy5eyCRkNDq1BoL4FFI7njmzdYqek/s6680/White%20Trout%20Lily,%20Erythronium%20albidum,%20Ohio%20River%20Bluffs,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(4)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6680" data-original-width="5303" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3THmFNeuV5OFYSxpW5aBWrhKa07HGNiGX5aEbHiFaKldbS5FzSlkSjGdE-_tRhOAepfmNEBQP5MY6Icn5eNqvEVdVoTYcziCEzcXiHZz9ysF0JTJxna4ZbLxPlhxl1QF7bV9W101BbdvrFqkEtKycD19gXEX5tyXy5eyCRkNDq1BoL4FFI7njmzdYqek/w318-h400/White%20Trout%20Lily,%20Erythronium%20albidum,%20Ohio%20River%20Bluffs,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20February%2025,%202024%20(4)%20copy.jpg" width="318" /></a></div>One our most beautiful members of the Liliaceae, White Trout Lily (<i>Erythronium albidum</i>). It leads the parade of trout lilies - two other species occur in Ohio - and it isn't atypical to find a few in flower by late February. Come early to mid-March and on into April, the two yellow species will be in flower in southern Ohio, and one of them is one of our rarest plants, the Goldenstar (<i>Erythronium rostratum</i>). The Arc of Appalachia (incredible conservation organization!) owns the <a href="https://www.arcofappalachia.org/gladys-riley">Gladys Riley Golden Star Lily Preserve</a> in western Scioto County, and it is a must-visit place when its namesake Goldenstars are in peak bloom. There are thousands of them, and one would not suspect it is rare in Ohio after seeing them all at this site. But there is only one other much smaller locale in nearby Adams County. The peak bloom varies a bit from year to year, but usually is between mid to late March, although in years past I've seen flowers in early March, and into the first week of April.Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-2950042613104168622024-02-23T12:46:00.000-05:002024-02-23T12:46:58.708-05:00Nature/Opinion: American Ornithological Society set to rename honorific birds<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0Um5XpKyhGl6JDkSrSlyhLj4YAdqd_ojnp_8NGcTK6FFKWkmQVJcdGkkzO1AhbgXhE4F_OtYc8JtvKjq1hFGruVyt3cMeVVBjiZksIiCQw3YDLUEbTYcQxCV6pnwDkTr5gQ1oBBSIlYA3TtpRO-VMd43aOX97Kl-OPAIIeSsbjmSj-S335k6XPss9NE/s1800/Cooper's%20Hawk,%20Accipiter%20cooperii,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2029,%202021%20(10).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1650" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0Um5XpKyhGl6JDkSrSlyhLj4YAdqd_ojnp_8NGcTK6FFKWkmQVJcdGkkzO1AhbgXhE4F_OtYc8JtvKjq1hFGruVyt3cMeVVBjiZksIiCQw3YDLUEbTYcQxCV6pnwDkTr5gQ1oBBSIlYA3TtpRO-VMd43aOX97Kl-OPAIIeSsbjmSj-S335k6XPss9NE/w366-h400/Cooper's%20Hawk,%20Accipiter%20cooperii,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2029,%202021%20(10).jpg" width="366" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A juvenile Cooper's hawk, perhaps upset that its name is changing/Jim McCormac</i><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Nature/Opinion: American Ornithological Society set to rename honorific birds</b></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/lifestyle/home-garden/2024/02/17/is-renaming-of-honorific-birds-necessary-our-columnist-doesnt-think-so/72580478007/">Columbus Dispatch</a><br /><i>February 18, 2024</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><b>NOTES:</b> The following column takes an oppositional viewpoint to the initiative launched by the American Ornithological Society (AOS) on November 1 of last year. While my initial gut reaction to this mass renaming was negative, I waited some time to think about this, and better process all sides before opining. While from nearly all metrics opponents probably far outnumber proponents, that didn't weigh into my feelings about this matter (<a href="https://osf.io/preprints/osf/tnzya">see this paper</a> that analyzed hundreds of comments on a Washington Post article using a technique known as Sentiment Analysis). I'm not a big fan of ad populum arguments in general. The masses are often wrong. Nonetheless, probably every article that I have seen that allows reader comments features a majority of negative viewpoints towards the proposal, and that holds for social media posts. Presumably, many or most of the posters that express negativity are part of the demographics that the AOS would like to lure into birding.<br /><br />To most non-birders, the proposed renaming of honorifically named species is probably a mild absurdity - something straight out of <a href="https://www.theonion.com/">the ONION</a>. To those of us within the circle, it is more serious due to understanding the mass destabilization of ornithological nomenclature that will result. An oft-used argument by proponents is "names change all of the time". In other words, we should be used to shifting nomenclature. But that's not true, at least regarding English (common) names. Since the inaugural AOS (formerly American Ornithological Union) checklist came out in 1886, less than one English name has changed annually on average (see my commentary on warbler names in the column). In contrast, there has been a blizzard of changes with scientific names, but these go largely unnoticed by birders, very few of whom learn those names. English names are far more important in daily communication. With that said, no one that I know of who is against this proposal is against changing names that are demonstrably harmful. A great example of a legitimate change dates back to 2000, when the Oldsquaw was renamed Long-tailed Duck (from Wikipedia: "In 2000, the American Ornithologists' Union (AOU) formally adopted the name long-tailed duck, in response to petitioning by a group of biologists who feared that the former name would be offensive to Native American tribes whose help was required for conservation efforts."). We think that any proposed changes should be submitted on a case-by-case basis, as has been the model. Not an arbitrary and capricious mass removal of all eponyms.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While a stated purpose of the mass rebranding is to make birding more appealing to newcomers and less exclusionary to minorities, ironically, I think it will make learning more difficult and thus more exclusionary to new would-be birders. It'll take field guides, scores of online resources, and other learning tools some time to become up to date with the myriad name changes, resulting in confusion on many levels, especially to beginners. Furthermore, there is no as-yet published timetable by the AOS as to when this will all be accomplished. Rumblings are that they will roll out the changes gradually, perhaps taking a decade to implement all of them. And I do not believe they have as yet even decided with certainty what species' names are on the chopping block. It seems to me that before rolling out such a sweeping change, the AOS would have all of their ducks in a row and simultaneously unveil all facets of how this will be done, and which species will be changed. Instead, for whatever reason, they put the cart before the horse.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">If you disagree with the AOS's decision, feel free to sign the <a href="https://www.change.org/p/petition-to-aos-leadership-on-the-recent-decision-to-change-all-eponymous-bird-names?recruiter=607648895&recruited_by_id=5d503000-8c99-11e6-8a35-1dde2ec944f8&utm_source=share_petition&utm_campaign=petition_dashboard&utm_medium=copylink">Change.org petition</a>, <a href="https://www.change.org/p/petition-to-aos-leadership-on-the-recent-decision-to-change-all-eponymous-bird-names?recruiter=607648895&recruited_by_id=5d503000-8c99-11e6-8a35-1dde2ec944f8&utm_source=share_petition&utm_campaign=petition_dashboard&utm_medium=copylink">RIGHT HERE</a>. It currently has over 5,600 signatures (the petition by Bird Names for Birds to the AOS that sparked this had about 180 signatures). The petition site also has a number of interesting statements by leading birders and ornithologists arguing against the change. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>NATURE</b><br />Jim McCormac</div><br />The little-known U.S.-based <a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/news/local/2023/05/09/six-places-to-bird-watch-in-columbus-franklin-county-eagles-turkeys/70162766007/">American Ornithological Society</a> (AOS) managed to make news on Nov. 1, 2023. That day, the 2,800-member academic organization announced that it would be changing all honorific names of birds in the Americas. That includes North, Central and South America, and associated islands. In all, the plan involves about 150 species. The AOS (formerly American Ornithological Union) is the long-standing authority for American bird names. A precise timetable for the changes has yet to be established.<br /><br />In the U.S. and Canada, about 80 species are slated for rebranding, and 35 of them occur — or have occurred — in Ohio. Buckeye State birds include well-known species such as Bonaparte’s gull, Cooper’s hawk, Wilson’s snipe, and — in a double whammy to Wilson — Wilson’s warbler. In all, 35 honorifically named species on the Ohio list, or about 8% of the state list of 445 species, will be renamed.<br /><br />Why the change? In the words of the AOS: “The AOS commits to changing all English-language names of birds within its geographic jurisdiction that are named directly after people (eponyms), along with other names deemed offensive and exclusionary…”<br /><br />A group known as Bird Names for Birds was the impetus for the AOS nomenclatural shift, and they state: “Eponyms… and honorific common bird names are problematic because they perpetuate colonialism and the racism associated with it. The names that these birds currently have — for example, Bachman’s sparrow — represent and remember people (mainly white men) who often have objectively horrible pasts and do not uphold the morals and standards the bird community should memorialize.”<br /><br />There are two major prongs to this movement: 1) Honorees are racist or otherwise bad people, therefore their names are exclusionary, and 2) bird names should be descriptive of the bird.<br /><br />A major problem with No. 1 is that most people associated with eponymous bird names were not racist, or at least the AOS has not presented many cases for it. The idea seems to be to cast them all out — a wholesale purge of eponyms, ensuring the bad are deleted, even if the good are collateral damage. This decision was rendered by a committee of 19 people. That would be the AOS council, who did not poll birders at large, people in other countries that would be impacted, or even their own membership. In other words, the council was exclusionary.<br /><br />This clumsy effort to rewrite history is fraught with problems. The aforementioned Alexander Wilson — namesake to the snipe, warbler and three other species — was a passionate ornithologist who lived for birds. He essentially worked himself to death by the age of 47 but not before becoming known as the Father of American Ornithology.<br /><br />The reverend John Bachman — mentioned above — illustrates the problems of judging people by the standards of two centuries later. While Bachman owned slaves, which should never have been acceptable even in his day but unfortunately was, paradoxically he also was a leader in creating opportunities for Black people. Bachman invited people of color to join his congregation, which many did, and helped Blacks achieve positions that were unattainable at that time. One of his tutees was Daniel Payne, who went on to become a founder of Wilberforce University in Ohio and became one of its first presidents — the first Black college president in the United States.<br /><br />The idea that honorific bird names are exclusionary is nonsensical. A leading advocate for changing eponymous bird names is field guide author Kenn Kaufman. Ironically, he wrote the following in a post supporting the eponym purge on his eponymously named Kaufman Field Guide blog: “Do eponymous names naturally lead to curiosity about the persons so recognized? I don’t think so. If we were to poll the ornithologists and serious birders of North America, I suspect that not one in a thousand would know who Botteri was (of Botteri’s Sparrow) or who Williamson was (of Williamson’s Sapsucker)… All these names have been there in the field guides and other books for many years, but hardly anyone has been inspired to say, ‘Gee, who was Heermann? Who was Hutton?’”<br /><br />If no one knows who these people are, how can their names be exclusionary?<br /><br />The other argument in favor of changing honorific names centers on the opportunity to provide more descriptive names. That opens a robust can of worms. Many non-eponymous names are hardly descriptive. Who knows what mallard means? Or sees the hairs on a hairy woodpecker. Few have seen the “red belly” on a red-bellied woodpecker. Carolina chickadee? They’re common in Ohio. Purple finches are hardly purple. All sparrows sing, not just the song sparrow. Do all these and scores of other non-descriptive names also have to be changed? And re-namers best be cautious. An oft-proposed alternate name for Kirtland’s warbler (named for Ohio naturalist Jared Kirtland) is jack pine warbler. Jack pine’s scientific name is Pinus banksiana. The specific epithet honors English naturalist Sir Joseph Banks. Dig deep enough into his history, and flaws will be found. As I’m sure historians in 2224 will find character defects in many of us.<br /><br />One huge asset that ornithology has that very few other disciplines in the natural sciences have is a stable system of English names. English bird names are the currency of the masses (in English-speaking places). They allow all of us to speak on the same page, and greatly facilitate learning by newcomers. Furthermore, English names tend to be far more stable than scientific names (which very few birders know). Of the 38 species of breeding warblers in eastern North America (five are eponymously named), 33 still have the same English name as first published in the AOS’s inaugural checklist of North American birds in 1886 (including all five eponyms). Contrarily, 138 years later 31 of those 38 warblers have different scientific names. A large-scale change in English names will result in years of confusion, outdated field guides, and numerous other long-lasting hassles.<br /><br />Resistance to the proposed AOS name changes has been widespread and opponents probably greatly outnumber proponents. To me and many others, the logic behind purging eponyms is largely baseless — at least its advocates have failed to make much of a case. The logic behind arguments for retaining existing names makes far more sense and maintains long-established stability.<br /><br />Honorific names permeate science, and elsewhere. Legions of buildings, cities and towns, endowments and scholarships, streets, and much more are named honorifically. If truly bad names exist within these groups, change them as needed. But a blanket purge of honorific bird names by a tiny group of people in one area of the globe — whose changes are unlikely to be widely accepted — smacks of pretentious virtue signaling by out of touch elitists.<br /><br />To learn more about rationales for changing bird names, visit the AOS website: <a href="https://americanornithology.org/about/english-bird-names-project/">English Bird Names Project - American Ornithological Society (americanornithology.org)</a>. For dissenting opinions, including some from leading ornithologists, visit the <a href="https://www.change.org/p/petition-to-aos-leadership-on-the-recent-decision-to-change-all-eponymous-bird-names?recruiter=607648895&recruited_by_id=5d503000-8c99-11e6-8a35-1dde2ec944f8&utm_source=share_petition&utm_campaign=petition_dashboard&utm_medium=copylink">Change.org</a> petition to AOS leadership.<br /><br /><i>Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at<a href="http://www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com/">www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com</a>.</i>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-63793239830462881002024-02-20T11:27:00.001-05:002024-02-20T11:27:31.445-05:00Bird photography talk: The Art and Science of Shooting Birds<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7S23-7DNSdD-Q7bQbo2FuUCqE5WcF0U_Pv0JmJW5Vdvclgg5WOVQZcmoHBR39rPcAU9CWjfKTmpjFEmnsIf6vKtnfWaDSK_Iyv7i8nZPqXRuzLWAjelTLPNIKdALDOP687fAnG1sFUulUPHE_7nSO-eViSZcjJcu_zikhSXlpFzbZkL-DpUlQHILQDOQ/s5035/Royal%20Tern,%20Thalasseus%20maximus,%20Fort%20DeSoto%20County%20Park,%20Florida,%20February%2025,%202017%20(11)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3263" data-original-width="5035" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7S23-7DNSdD-Q7bQbo2FuUCqE5WcF0U_Pv0JmJW5Vdvclgg5WOVQZcmoHBR39rPcAU9CWjfKTmpjFEmnsIf6vKtnfWaDSK_Iyv7i8nZPqXRuzLWAjelTLPNIKdALDOP687fAnG1sFUulUPHE_7nSO-eViSZcjJcu_zikhSXlpFzbZkL-DpUlQHILQDOQ/w400-h259/Royal%20Tern,%20Thalasseus%20maximus,%20Fort%20DeSoto%20County%20Park,%20Florida,%20February%2025,%202017%20(11)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I'm giving a talk on bird photography - The Art and Science of Shooting Birds - tomorrow evening, February 21, at 6:30 pm at the <a href="https://www.cincynature.org/">Cincinnati Nature Center</a>. It's for the center's camera club, but guests are welcome. It's free to members of CNC; $10 if not. Preregistration is required, and more details in the following link: <a href="https://cincynature.ticketapp.org/portal/product/14/event/5c72e67c-3265-4a19-a2e4-557ea7f3d8c4">Cincinnati Nature Center (ticketapp.org)</a><p></p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-27282168046105632262024-02-05T21:15:00.004-05:002024-02-05T21:15:51.993-05:00Fishing spiders in Ohio? It's true.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2oJ3eg6Y3NLC_MGk_vs6kOIFbn2HrP2mNrPcTYHnR5aTrEp9V0SSCnxEv1bbs6wHnYzmhOmkKZKBt4OsvKhwcHYRj64YpQWo6hSajzBsbxhIuxEl27uWnCSQds2MRAssjsztpHeR6hmNqmnZnf-LLvnhL6gZ0ly_Wymd73Q2yVCegpSf8XMnQ_5lvQI/s3840/A%20female%20white-banded%20fishing%20spider%20guards%20its%20nest.%20Jim%20McCormac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3592" data-original-width="3840" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2oJ3eg6Y3NLC_MGk_vs6kOIFbn2HrP2mNrPcTYHnR5aTrEp9V0SSCnxEv1bbs6wHnYzmhOmkKZKBt4OsvKhwcHYRj64YpQWo6hSajzBsbxhIuxEl27uWnCSQds2MRAssjsztpHeR6hmNqmnZnf-LLvnhL6gZ0ly_Wymd73Q2yVCegpSf8XMnQ_5lvQI/w400-h374/A%20female%20white-banded%20fishing%20spider%20guards%20its%20nest.%20Jim%20McCormac.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A female white-banded fishing spider guards its nest/Jim McCormac</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Fishing spiders in Ohio? It's true.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/lifestyle/home-garden/2024/02/03/fishing-spider-ohio-nature-jim-mccormac-biology-science/72397766007/">Columbus Dispatch</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>February 4, 2024</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>NATURE</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Jim McCormac</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Arachnophobia, the irrational fear of spiders, is widespread. Some estimates claim that about 6% of the population are arachnophobes. If you are one, my apologies for this column. But you’ve probably already stopped reading. <br /><br />Spiders are all around us. About 650 species are found in Ohio alone. Numerous species, most likely, are on your property and in your house. In warm seasons, a gentle rain of spiderlings wafts through the air. They disperse to new terrain soon after hatching by “ballooning”; sending out a silken strand that catches a breeze and takes them aloft. Fortunately for the arachnophobe, these spiderlings and the vast majority of spiders go unseen by most people. <br /><br />Spiders are an important part of food webs – both as predator and prey – and engage in amazing behavior. Many are artistically painted in showy hues, or are ornate in their markings. Their production of silk and use thereof is highly advanced, and some species have the ability to spin incredibly intricate webs. <br /><br />On September 7, 2013, I was with a group of colleagues late at night in the wilds of Adams County, Ohio. We were seeking caterpillars, and thus inspecting vegetation with flashlights. Suddenly, my beam picked up the eye shine of a big spider about twenty feet away and eight feet up in a redbud tree. I clambered up on some logs to get on the spider’s level, and was treated to the spectacle of a tarantula-sized nursery web spider guarding a nest. <br /><br />I knew it was one of the fishing spiders, a group within the nursery web spider family. The family is so-named because the females create silken nests (nurseries) and guard the spiderlings for a week or so until they disperse. Many of the fishing spider species in this group are highly aquatic and can even catch small fish. <br /><br />But this fishing spider was not like any I had seen. The head was a striking ivory-white, very different than the common fishing spiders that I was familiar with. I took photos, one of which accompanies this article. It didn’t take long to identify it: white-banded fishing spider (<i>Dolomedes albineus</i>). A later literature review showed no Ohio records of this southern species. Major excitement! A new spider for Ohio, and a particularly spectacular one! <br /><br />A few weeks later I learned that another had been documented near Akron, about the time I found mine. Later yet, it came to light that a white-banded fishing spider had been found in 2012 in Perry County. The latter, discovered by moth expert Diane Brooks, was the first state record. <br /><br />There is no question that white-banded fishing spiders are expanding northward. Spiders are not nearly so well known as birds or mammals, and thus the literature is often sparse. Still, several documents that mention this species from over a century ago describe it as a species of southern swamps, sometimes around cypress trees. <br /><br />By 1973, white-banded fishing spiders had made it to Kentucky. A paper on fishing spiders published that year documented the northern limits of white-banded fishing spider as two southern Kentucky counties. <br /><br />Fast forward to today. There are now dozens of records from Ohio, mostly east of a line from Cincinnati to Cleveland. There are also many records from Illinois, Indiana, Missouri, and Pennsylvania. At least one has reached the state up north, courtesy a 2020 record from southern Michigan. Apparently, all of the first records from all of these states date to within the last decade. <br /><br />Why the recent expansion? Mean winter temperatures probably play a big role in defining the northern limits of white-banded fishing spiders (and many other insects and spiders). They overwinter as adults and can live for two years. As winters have gotten warmer, the spiders can expand their limits, and their quick expansion is abetted by the highly mobile balloon dispersal of the juveniles. Other factors may also be in play. Whatever the case, a very cool spider is now an Ohio resident.<div><br /></div><div>Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at <a href="http://www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com/">www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipC024sJViltvx1jOcF7F4xQLeB1n49QJzt8g8zBdH8zYPktgZafzH50TO1kfzMDURX7nB5MDLqWR6Z6vfyHayFe5c7nu_KNMocrw1A2s796bCfrPuEj-NeMxEPfNSHxMaSpl9N9J4nG3wIi9ASnonLmh2lf8P-UOIivLbM5DZPMocRfjxxitZ9-TnmFI/s2048/A%20large%20female%20white-banded%20fishing%20spider%20blends%20well%20with%20tree%20bark.%20Jim%20McCormac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1756" data-original-width="2048" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipC024sJViltvx1jOcF7F4xQLeB1n49QJzt8g8zBdH8zYPktgZafzH50TO1kfzMDURX7nB5MDLqWR6Z6vfyHayFe5c7nu_KNMocrw1A2s796bCfrPuEj-NeMxEPfNSHxMaSpl9N9J4nG3wIi9ASnonLmh2lf8P-UOIivLbM5DZPMocRfjxxitZ9-TnmFI/w400-h343/A%20large%20female%20white-banded%20fishing%20spider%20blends%20well%20with%20tree%20bark.%20Jim%20McCormac.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A large female white-banded fishing spider blends well with tree bark/Jim McCormac</i></div><div><br /></div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-53044302067499082002024-01-25T20:24:00.000-05:002024-01-25T20:24:57.094-05:00Scores of English name changes to birds are apparently coming<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfJEZ0a8iAt2dJ0qb1gcKK6EiO4Mkl-yh4PlFa6hS_e8go_b7SVgxG0zJ21ROfSI_Lr-WZX7SCrp2E62zxDkCYvy0YI3Dds2Mm4yzrO1THY4EpbY9PUWm9NJNUX8P6WFiaL-jDXr9hrk28cv-WYgYL5Q4CGb8Xr9Spne_nAM4EsHgvypESzAu_4kaLHw/s2952/Kirtland's%20Warbler,%20Setophaga%20kirtlandii,%20Montmorency%20Co.%20Michigan,%20May%2024,%202019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2178" data-original-width="2952" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfJEZ0a8iAt2dJ0qb1gcKK6EiO4Mkl-yh4PlFa6hS_e8go_b7SVgxG0zJ21ROfSI_Lr-WZX7SCrp2E62zxDkCYvy0YI3Dds2Mm4yzrO1THY4EpbY9PUWm9NJNUX8P6WFiaL-jDXr9hrk28cv-WYgYL5Q4CGb8Xr9Spne_nAM4EsHgvypESzAu_4kaLHw/w400-h295/Kirtland's%20Warbler,%20Setophaga%20kirtlandii,%20Montmorency%20Co.%20Michigan,%20May%2024,%202019.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A male Kirtland's Warbler sings from a jack pine. One of the rarest warblers, its population is only about 4,500 birds. I photographed this one on May 24, 2019, in northern Michigan. If the American Ornithological Society goes through with its proposal to end eponyms, this warbler will get a new moniker.<p></p>Many of us are aware of the <a href="https://americanornithology.org/">American Ornithological Society's</a> (AOS) decision to rename about 80 species of birds that are eponymously named (named for a person). These species are primarily found in the U.S. and Canada, at least as breeders. Apparently, that's just for starters - dozens of other eponymous names of birds elsewhere in the Americas are also on the chopping block. In total, about 150 species eventually will be involved in the purge of eponyms.<div><br /></div><div>This decision wasn't exactly made in a vacuum - an ad hoc committee was appointed to deliberate how this might be accomplished, and progress reports of sorts were occasionally issued over the 2–3-year period that this research went on. Still, the announcement on November 1, 2023, that all eponymous bird names used in the Americas were slated to change caught nearly everyone by surprise. After all, the AOS has but 2,800 members, so its reach does not extend widely throughout the birding community. And the AOS apparently made no formal efforts to poll their membership, or the birding community as a whole. Nor apparently did they consult with birders, ornithologists, or related organizations to the south of the U.S.</div><div><br /></div><div>In my 50+ years of birding and involvement in the birding community, I don't recall seeing a nomenclatural decision (any decision?) cause such rancor and division. But bird names change all of the time! Not in this way, and en masse - see the paragraphs below. From all metrics that I can see, most birders - perhaps overwhelmingly so - object to the change. Dr. Kevin Winker of the University of Alaska analyzed hundreds of comments made in response to two articles about this in the Washington Post using a methodology known as sentiment analysis. He found that commenters were significantly against the mass rebranding of bird names, and the reasons for doing so. Winker's work can be seen <a href="https://osf.io/preprints/osf/tnzya">HERE</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have tried to keep up with this issue, with much of the drama playing out on social media such as Facebook. Perhaps because I may have a more vested interest than most, as I regularly write columns about birds, have written a book about them, and am at work on yet another. On the majority of posts that I have seen, the majority of commentors are against the renaming. Ditto the numerous publications that have written articles about this and allow comments. Same for personal discussions with people. I have met some proponents but far more who oppose the change. </div><div><br /></div><div>One rebuttal that I have heard scores of times from name change proponents (online - I haven't met enough proponents in real life to get a meaningful data set) is something to the effect of "bird names change all the time". "It's no big deal".</div><div><br />That's untrue, at least in regard to English names (which are the names slated for change. The AOS has no authority to change scientific names). The genesis of the official AOS's Checklist of North American Birds is the inaugural list, published in 1886. In the intervening 138 years, there has averaged less than one English name change a year. However, if one takes scientific names into account, there has been an utter blizzard of changes. Fortunately for birders, there is no real need to know scientific names, as we are fortunate to have a well-defined and stable system of English names. I would say only a vanishingly small number of birders knows or makes an effort to know scientific names, so all of the myriad changes to those wrought by taxonomic shifts and other legitimate reasons are largely behind the scenes for most people.<br /><br />I looked at the New World Warblers (Family Parulidae, the largest family of songbirds in eastern NA) and compared name changes of the 38 species that breed in eastern North America (U.S. and Canada). One of them is extinct, the eponymously named Bachman's Warbler. The results are interesting. Thirty-three species still bear the same English name as was given in the 1st edition checklist in 1886. Yet a nearly equal number, 31, have a different scientific name today. So, 33 of the 38 warblers go by the same English name as they did 138 years ago, and 31 of the 38 warblers now go by different scientific names. I suspect an analysis of most sizeable families of birds would show similar results.<br /><br />One huge asset that ornithology has that very few other disciplines - in botany and zoology - have is a stable system of English names. English bird names are the currency of the masses (in English-speaking places). They allow all of us to speak on the same page, and greatly facilitate learning by newcomers. While it's fun for me to be out with other botanists and spout names like <i>Carex pedunculata</i>, <i>Liquidambar styraciflua</i>, or <i>Symphyotrichum oblongifolium</i>, those aren't user-friendly words liable to promote general interest. I wish botany had a stable system of English names - it could only help lure others.<br /><br />I think the AOS's plan, as defined - both the reasoning for it and the implementation thereof - needs a pause, a rethink, and a much broader base of input. Including people with differing opinions. Abruptly renaming dozens and dozens of bird species is fraught with problems too numerous to enumerate here, and any such plan should be thoroughly vetted and justified.<br /><br />To read the AOS reasoning behind changing names, go here: <a href="https://tinyurl.com/ynhkyk7u?fbclid=IwAR1XRvbqpfFq0W-WjuHuZ-XRqYKCiQrWBQWSCGytYih1hUC7JOdJk9JrtEE">http://tinyurl.com/ynhkyk7u</a><br /><br />To see a petition against the name changes, with arguments against it, go here: <a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Ftinyurl.com%2F2bjxf6uz%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR1NR-kM-rxiYIoadgxOvjR8gPo3vcHvLdMjAVZLSFTqaXbdvTy638YungA&h=AT3izXn6CcDdMwJsO9mH6Az9ThWp8WsL5HdFKQ0DVG_2BDKBY092zDL2US36NHt-7VjSMO2NApLGN0z-qDjWAhtJIiQYv_npifLOHzRxOKFe8QbCeNa09sBSiS6QELGZcoNZQoO-VCfBu-6zEw&__tn__=-UK*F">http://tinyurl.com/2bjxf6uz</a> Feel free to sign it, too.</div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-75101190874946570772024-01-18T18:46:00.003-05:002024-03-06T17:50:25.262-05:00Speaking & Guiding Gigs 2024<p>I had to change the format of this listing, thanks to Blogger's (my platform) unfortunate decision to require html coding to do even formerly simple tasks like add a sidebar of speaking engagements. That's beyond me and at this point, I'm not taking time to learn how to do that. I will provide this roster as a live link at the top right side of the blog, that's the best that I know how to do it for now. Also, Blogger got rid of the email notification service about new posts. I regularly get queries about what happened, and that's the answer. I don't know a work-around at this point. I thought technology was supposed to advance, not go backwards :-) Anyway, here's the 2024 slate of gigs, and I'll update it as needed.</p><p><b>January 30, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Shaker Lakes Garden Club. Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Pepper Pike, Ohio, 9:30 am.</p><p><b>February 3, 2024</b>: <a href="https://my.conservatory.org/6387/nativeplantandsustainabilityconference">Phipps Conservatory, Native Plant and Sustainability Conference</a>. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.</p><p><b>February 8, 2024</b>: <a href="https://ohiochapterisa.org/aws/OCISA/pt/sp/conference_home-page">Ohio Tree Care Conference</a>. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Cherry Valley Lodge, Granville, Ohio.</p><p><b>February 10, 2024</b>: <a href="https://midwestnativeplants.org/other-events/">Gardening for Wildlife Workshop</a>. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Caesar Creek Lake Visitor Center, Waynesville, Ohio.</p><p><b>February 26, 2024</b>: <a href="https://cincynature.ticketapp.org/portal/product/14/event/5c72e67c-3265-4a19-a2e4-557ea7f3d8c4">Cincinnati Nature Center Camera Club</a>. The Art and Science of Bird Photography. 6:30 pm, Cincinnati Nature Center, Milford, Ohio.</p><p><b>March 2, 2024</b>: <a href="https://ohiobluebirdsociety.org/conference/">Ohio Bluebird Society annual meeting</a>. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Ashland University, Ashland, Ohio.</p><p><b>March 8, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.eventbrite.com/e/vernal-poolooza-2024-registration-761757626567">Vernal Palooza</a> (Ohio vernal pool conference). A Slew of Salamanders (and other amphibians). Camp Oty' Okwa, Hocking County, Ohio.</p><p><b>March 9, 2024</b>: Muskingum Valley Spring Gardening Symposium. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Ohio University Zanesville Campus, Campus Center, Zanesville, Ohio, 9:45 am.</p><p><b>March 9, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.bedfordareamastergardeners.org/">Bedford Area Master Gardeners</a> (Virginia). <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). ZOOM meeting, 11:30 am.</p><p><b>March 30, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.gardeningforlifeproject.org/gfl-celebration">Gardening for Life Project conference</a>. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Polk County High School, Columbus, North Carolina.</p><p><b>April 11 - 14, 2024</b>: <a href="https://allevents.in/ansted/spring-botany-blast/200026097693337">Spring Botany Blast!</a> Wildflower walks and talks in some of eastern North America's most plant-rich habitats. Ansted/New River Gorge, West Virginia.</p><p><b>April 16, 2024</b>: Four Seasons Gardening Club. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Dayton, Ohio, 9:30 am.</p><p><b>April 29 - May 4, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.birding-wv.com/">New River Birding & Nature Festival</a>. Lead daily trips and give talk. Fayetteville, West Virginia.</p><p><b>May 8, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.biggestweekinamericanbirding.com/">Biggest Week in American Birding</a>. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Maumee Bay Lodge, Oregon, Ohio. 2:30 pm.</p><p><b>May 28, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.akronaudubon.org/">Greater Akron Audubon Society</a>. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Himelright Lodge, Cascade Valley Metropark, Akron, Ohio. 7 pm.</p><p><b>June 1, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.alleganynaturepilgrimage.com/">Allegany Nature Pilgrimage</a>. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Allegany State Park, Salamanca, New York.</p><p><b>June 8, 2024</b>: <a href="https://beavercreekwetlands.org/">Beaver Creek Wetlands Association</a> native plant day. Talk will focus on native plant diversity. Details to come.</p><p><b>June 22, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.cedarbognp.org/">Cedar Bog Nature Preserve</a>. Moth talk, followed by mothing. Urbana, Ohio.</p><p><b>July 19-21, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.arcofappalachia.org/mothapalooza">Mothapalooza</a>. Help with various field excursions and nocturnal forays. Highlands Nature Sanctuary, Bainbridge, Ohio.</p><p><b>August 2 - 4, 2024</b>: <a href="https://midwestnativeplants.org/midwest-native-plant-conference/">Midwest Native Plant Conference</a>. Hummingbird talks, lead field trips. Bergamo Center, Beavercreek, Ohio.</p><p><b>August 17, 2024</b>: <a href="https://stratfordecologicalcenter.org/">Moth talk by Chelsea Gottfried</a> (based on our new book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). We'll be mothing after the talk, and it should be productive and a good chance to see some cool moths. Stratford Ecological Center, Delaware, Ohio</p><p><b>September 11, 2024: </b>University of Cincinnati. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Cincinnati, Ohio, 4:30 pm.</p><p><b>September 18, 2024</b>: Newark Public Library. <a href="https://www.shakerlakesgc.org/">Mysterious Moths</a> (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Newark, Ohio, 11 am.</p><p><b>November 9, 2024</b>: <a href="https://www.cedarbognp.org/">Cedar Bog</a> annual fundraiser. Fabulous Fens. Cheetah Lounge, Urbana, Ohio.</p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-15710827191642467132024-01-11T13:04:00.001-05:002024-01-11T13:04:03.575-05:00Brown-headed Nuthatch<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56tAxdm3IYe6T8HOI5VS0xdyWs-jWVizPJiO0Gwvlhsv2VShh6bK_7VRKWiVqfO8jmbvCErVaLj3IKVlevSgl2sAz7yV3IHKbZ33JaDpf29YsBUaYB5nzVuMw5wgKNniUojIku2gFsljjv4D1n495x9YLWt97_K3ktmQWCSuXg7nuUllJWbUNv1xiWG0/s2070/Brown-headed%20Nuthatch,%20Sitta%20pusilla,%20Hickory,%20North%20Carolina,%20January%201,%202024%20(6)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2070" data-original-width="1704" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56tAxdm3IYe6T8HOI5VS0xdyWs-jWVizPJiO0Gwvlhsv2VShh6bK_7VRKWiVqfO8jmbvCErVaLj3IKVlevSgl2sAz7yV3IHKbZ33JaDpf29YsBUaYB5nzVuMw5wgKNniUojIku2gFsljjv4D1n495x9YLWt97_K3ktmQWCSuXg7nuUllJWbUNv1xiWG0/w329-h400/Brown-headed%20Nuthatch,%20Sitta%20pusilla,%20Hickory,%20North%20Carolina,%20January%201,%202024%20(6)%20copy.jpg" width="329" /></a></div>This Brown-headed Nuthatch (<i>Sitta pusilla</i>) was part of a small troupe occupying pines in a park in Hickory, North Carolina. Shauna Weyrauch and I recently took a week to visit southern Georgia and a few points in between here and there. We went to this park on January 1 with the specific goal of drumming up some of the tiny nuthatches. The Brown-headed Nuthatch is a personal favorite. Shauna had never seen one and was understandably delighted by them.<p></p><p>Highly social, the little nuthatches stay in small bands, and there were about four of them in this group. They are vociferous and I heard them almost immediately upon exiting the vehicle. Brown-headed Nuthatches emit high squeaky notes, and it sounds like a group of kittens are in the pines playing with squeak toys.</p><p>Another major pine woods specialty bird target of this trip was the far rarer Red-cockaded Woodpecker (<i>Dryobates borealis</i>). I've seen them before, on a number of occasions, but it would be another "lifer" for Shauna, and we both wanted to experience the woodpeckers. No problem, we were able to spend about four hours over two mornings with a clan of five birds. We saw many interesting behaviors and interactions and managed some decent imagery. I'll post more on the Red-cockaded Woodpeckers later.</p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-68297178897041015022024-01-07T14:58:00.006-05:002024-01-07T14:58:40.720-05:00Nature: Short-eared Owls wing it to Ohio in larger numbers this winter<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8-rjF6RS5EDOSKTIjfH2CepxOC9N-Ihx355d85Ha3kuEGp6rd8i4LVjcYByPrurZq33F6JZjnvQbyAR6Kd0pFkVUuUIpRJVcPpAQJOGtgawKWFap_etMjsZrVoPlkKbFpZgNeEl0TbtcEVscaU4hRqe_QcqHKpMCqhixzNjCx0gZpefJNv9dDA92w2k/s2478/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(5)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1692" data-original-width="2478" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8-rjF6RS5EDOSKTIjfH2CepxOC9N-Ihx355d85Ha3kuEGp6rd8i4LVjcYByPrurZq33F6JZjnvQbyAR6Kd0pFkVUuUIpRJVcPpAQJOGtgawKWFap_etMjsZrVoPlkKbFpZgNeEl0TbtcEVscaU4hRqe_QcqHKpMCqhixzNjCx0gZpefJNv9dDA92w2k/w400-h272/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(5)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A short-eared owl hunts from a perch/Jim McCormac</i></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Nature: Short-eared Owls wing it to Ohio in larger numbers this winter</b></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/lifestyle/nature-wildlife/2024/01/06/nature-ohios-short-eared-owl-population-booming-this-winter/72083676007/">Columbus Dispatch</a><br /><i>January 7, 2024</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>NATURE</b><br />Jim McCormac</div><br />Ohio’s six species of regularly occurring owls are generally much easier to hear than see. The big three in central Ohio are the barred owl, eastern screech owl and great horned owl. While barred owls sometimes pipe up during the day, and occasionally perch in visible spots, they are mostly nocturnal. The other two are far harder to stumble into during the day, but often frequently call after dark.<br /><br />Two additional owl species migrate through in spring and fall, and occasionally overwinter. I wrote about northern saw-whet owls in my Nov. 19 column. The elfin hooters remain well-secreted during the day and are very tough to find. The vast majority that pass through Ohio are never detected. Ditto the spectacular long-eared owl. Even if your eyes wash over one, you might miss it. A long-eared owl can compress its body to stick-like dimensions and look all the world like a broken-off branch.<br /><br />Enter the short-eared owl. Finally, an owl that can be easy to clap eyes on! The tawny-colored birds are fairly large — about the size of a Cooper’s hawk — but very long wings make them look larger in flight. Unlike their arboreal brethren, short-ears favor open grasslands and typically roost on the ground. They blend perfectly with senescent winter grasses, and about the only way of spotting a resting bird is to accidentally flush it.<br /><br />Fortunately for wannabe observers, short-eared owls typically begin hunting before nightfall. Sometimes they hunt during the day, although more typically become active near dusk. But there’s usually still enough light to observe the charismatic beasts as they perch on saplings or road signs, or course about the meadow like giant moths.<br /><br />The short-eared owl has one of the broadest distributions of any owl. It occurs on all continents except Antarctica and Australia. In addition, it breeds on the Hawaiian Islands, various Caribbean islands, and the Galapagos. In North America, it nests in the northernmost states, across Canada into tundra regions, and Alaska. Nearly all owls that appear in Ohio are migrants or winterers, although short-ears have bred here on occasion.<br /><br />This is the winter to find short-eared owls. They are notoriously cyclical in annual abundance, as population movements are largely dictated by prey abundance. Small rodents, especially voles, are the owls’ stock in trade, and voles have periodic boom-and-bust cycles. Who knows where all of Ohio’s short-ears came from this winter, but they certainly originated in northern haunts. Crashes in prey populations sent them south, and they hit the mammalian Holy Grail, as meadow voles seem to be booming in Ohio now.<br /><br />Anywhere with expansive meadows might produce owls. Good local spots to look might include metro parks such as Battelle Darby Creek and Pickerington ponds. Lots of short-ears have been seen at Killdeer Plains Wildlife Area, about an hour north of Columbus. I made the image that accompanies this column in large Conservation Reserve Program grasslands in Marion County on Dec. 27, and at least a dozen birds were present.<br /><br />I’ll beg forgiveness for saying that short-eared owl watching is a hoot. Fiercely territorial, hunting owls frequently aerially spar with other owls that venture near, as well as northern harriers, the latter a hawk of open grasslands.<br /><br />Spats are loud, with combatants issuing loud barks like angry terrier dogs, or frightening screams. In between squabbles, the birds hunt voles and make frequent stoops into the grass. The miss rate seems high, possibly because meadow voles make grassy tunnels and rarely venture out of these runways.<br /><br />Hunting owls may be relying more on acute hearing, and probably often pounce on the source of the noise, sight unseen. Such work isn’t easy, but overall, they do capture plenty of sausages with legs and the owls are a major factor in regulating small mammal populations.<br /><br />I should note that their short “ears,” which are small feather tufts that are normally hidden, have nothing to do with hearing. The real ears are large hearing organs on either side of the head. The placement of the ears is asymmetrical — one is slightly higher than the other. This means that sounds arrive to each ear milliseconds apart, which allows the hunter to better triangulate on the source.<br /><br />Sometimes, following a boom year for wintering short-eared owls, some remain to nest. It will be interesting to see whether nesters are detected this spring at any of the wintering hotspots. The last confirmed Ohio nesters that I’m aware of dates to 2004. Perhaps 2024 will bring our next short-eared owl breeding record.<br /><br /><i>Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at <a href="https://jimmccormac.blogspot.com/">jimmccormac.blogspot.com</a>.</i><div><i><br /></i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKobYCPNoRoNZaRXDL-kV85T-wv_kzKgOp8uHpSqHuCaLBMXIY8A1OmGVFL9TncWcXyAS_sNc4DRGCC3gEMXhi39mK_QIRAQjs5tkFPZl9d7KtrET4qgHmY05b1mvh_l5XHUfKoxUkpkKtxkNBeLlxn2UuG5O2j-ooiuA0JdsgDu-Zvc70httW8taY2lU/s3892/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(2)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2956" data-original-width="3892" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKobYCPNoRoNZaRXDL-kV85T-wv_kzKgOp8uHpSqHuCaLBMXIY8A1OmGVFL9TncWcXyAS_sNc4DRGCC3gEMXhi39mK_QIRAQjs5tkFPZl9d7KtrET4qgHmY05b1mvh_l5XHUfKoxUkpkKtxkNBeLlxn2UuG5O2j-ooiuA0JdsgDu-Zvc70httW8taY2lU/w400-h304/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(2)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A short-eared owl hunts voles on the wing/Jim McCormac</i></div></div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-8173681824054382492023-12-31T22:08:00.003-05:002024-01-02T18:42:51.879-05:00Nature: Tiny southern flying squirrels a sight to behold<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vzZuONqOCO0gVzMJMHdtJ0ZR-TIfyK4PQ0zVfQzCTlZYjzDcMYyIaFyEvKQs4YevsJYU3itOrpsimhK3WjxmyEevzKivOjTyZIYpwAodIKucYbaSN0JlvA2C-I2KYH2ofhyphenhyphen3lvJ2FrPsIjFctW_vv1snIuhZJKaQTeZ_CdIZTi0MoPHdevKcD9y2t3U/s3432/Southern%20Flying%20Squirrel,%20Glaucomys%20volans,%20Hocking%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2019,%202023%20(3)%20copy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3432" data-original-width="2843" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vzZuONqOCO0gVzMJMHdtJ0ZR-TIfyK4PQ0zVfQzCTlZYjzDcMYyIaFyEvKQs4YevsJYU3itOrpsimhK3WjxmyEevzKivOjTyZIYpwAodIKucYbaSN0JlvA2C-I2KYH2ofhyphenhyphen3lvJ2FrPsIjFctW_vv1snIuhZJKaQTeZ_CdIZTi0MoPHdevKcD9y2t3U/w331-h400/Southern%20Flying%20Squirrel,%20Glaucomys%20volans,%20Hocking%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2019,%202023%20(3)%20copy.jpg" width="331" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A southern flying squirrel/Jim McCormac</i></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Nature: Tiny southern flying squirrels a sight to behold</b></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/lifestyle/nature-wildlife/2023/12/29/nature-small-but-impressive-southern-flying-squirrels-a-sight-to-see/72029916007/">Columbus Dispatch</a><br /><i>December 31, 2023</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>NATURE</b><br />Jim McCormac</div><br />Six long years have elapsed since I last wrote about southern flying squirrels. That column ran on Dec. 31, 2017, and was made possible by the doyen of flying squirrels, Professor Don Althoff of the University of Rio Grande.<br /><br />Althoff has devoted a big chunk of his career to studying flying squirrels and may have handled more of them than anyone. Over approximately 25 years of working with them, Althoff has laid hands on over 3,300 squirrels. The vast majority of people reading this have probably never seen one!<br /><br />The southern flying squirrel — there is a northern species, from about central Michigan northward — is one of Ohio’s most common squirrels. Prior to settlement, it would have been the most common squirrel by far. It favors heavily wooded areas, and in such regions of the state it still is the most frequent squirrel species.<br /><br />Flying squirrels are strictly nocturnal, and roost in tree cavities during the day. They’ll take readily to artificial boxes though, and will even nest in them. Althoff has 400 boxes in “trails” of 25 boxes each, distributed between eight sites in five southeastern counties. He and his helpers check each box during the months of January and February.<br /><br />On Dec. 19, Shauna Weyrauch and I attended a box check. Shauna is an Ohio State University researcher who works with bobcats but is intensely interested in all mammals. I figured this outing would produce her “life” flying squirrel. We met up with Althoff and 15 of his helpers on a frosty morning along a backroad in Hocking County. If 15 helpers seems like a lot, well, you’d have to know Althoff. Charismatic and engaging, he draws people in with his passion for squirrels and the entirety of nature, as well as his breadth of knowledge. The promise of seeing “Rocky” in the flesh is certainly an allure, although you’ll have to go further afield to see Bullwinkle.<br /><br />The Hocking County squirrel trail commences with a long steep uphill slog to a ridgetop carpeted with oaks, hickories and other trees. As each box is mounted 12 to 15 feet up a tree trunk, a ladder is part of the equipment. Trying to keep pace with the 69-year-old Althoff, ladder over his shoulder, as he navigates the rough terrain, can be challenging. Even for his much younger assistants.<br /><br />Upon reaching a box, standard modus operandi is to place the ladder, then Althoff ascends, cork in pocket. Upon reaching the box he quickly plugs the entrance/exit hole with the cork, then opens the front of the box to expose the innards. A mesh screen prevents occupants from escaping. Our first eight boxes had no squirrels, but shredded bark and cored acorn and hickory nuts — sure evidence of squirrel tenants — were in most of them.<br /><br />The ninth box was a jackpot — seven squirrels! Later we found another box with six squirrels, for a 13-squirrel day. Flying squirrels are quite social and typically roost together. Don’s record is 13 animals in one box. By huddling together, they create a warm furry quilt and their collective body heat warms the box to a temperature significantly higher than that outside the box.<br /><br />A box with squirrels is taken to the ground, where an impromptu lab is set up. One at a time, the squirrels are shunted out of the box through a clear pipe and into a bag. A handler wearing thick gloves — squirrels can bite HARD — then removes the animal. It is weighed, detailed photos are taken, and a small metal ear clip is attached. The latter allows for positive identification of recaptures. The oldest squirrel Althoff has documented was about six years old. That’s two to three times the probable average life span. Finally, the squirrel is placed on a nearby tree trunk. They normally quickly ascend to a high limb, get their bearings, and then often leap into space, thrilling the observers with an impressive twisting glide to a distant tree.<br /><br />Up close, flying squirrels are tiny but impressive. The biggest — pregnant females — weigh about 100 grams. The average weight is approximately 75 grams. That’s about the same as a large chicken egg. Disproportionately large dark eyes lend a “cute” (nearly everyone uses that adjective) look to the squirrel. A flattened miniature beaver tail serves as an aerial rudder. While mostly invisible at rest, membranous folds of skin stretch between the forelegs and hindlegs. When on glides, these membranes, known as patagium, transform the squirrel into a highly efficient paraglider. Flights can encompass several hundred feet and involve impressive twists and turns.<br /><br />Hundreds of people have thus far participated in Althoff’s squirrel surveys. The vast majority have seen the flyers up close and personal and been dazzled by the exquisite little aeronauts, just as Shauna and I were. Here’s to many more squirrels for the indefatigable Althoff, doyen of the squirrels.<br /><br /><i>Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at<a href="http://www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com/">www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com</a>.</i><div><i><br /></i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4tDHX5h7sAhSK-lRExSde89jXIW8HSd9CdV3vdySjs7eeww4SfLOyfOyI2C90Z9PpCqCFXfyyd0cwLGzfVd4z5Nb3WbNcjNuKSGsxLJnmclFb8Z2QSs9l0lWecJPCjlzxahyl1UgHBgUx4cPcP-6Poe1YgXcNashyphenhyphenZCe951NMkFo5_PpAsfMbNp2nXQ/s900/72029942007-dr-don-althoff-doyen-of-the-flying-squirrels-jim-mc-cormac.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4tDHX5h7sAhSK-lRExSde89jXIW8HSd9CdV3vdySjs7eeww4SfLOyfOyI2C90Z9PpCqCFXfyyd0cwLGzfVd4z5Nb3WbNcjNuKSGsxLJnmclFb8Z2QSs9l0lWecJPCjlzxahyl1UgHBgUx4cPcP-6Poe1YgXcNashyphenhyphenZCe951NMkFo5_PpAsfMbNp2nXQ/w266-h400/72029942007-dr-don-althoff-doyen-of-the-flying-squirrels-jim-mc-cormac.webp" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Professor Don Althoff checks a flying squirrel box/Jim McCormac</i></div></div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-28049286967950293842023-12-29T22:36:00.002-05:002023-12-29T22:36:53.446-05:00A few more Short-eared Owl images<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArO2qCM-vIN_skJ9mDC0yFkVcUKXzE22MJt6AGMSLkdcyk8xvsmgBAKov26SJjIzqaVfG02IlB4TWlFJhIgPFG_RLkRur0j_ku8owwWdBslnW4hrqZjJkEwW3wxFmnNKhGti4FW-rkkVi5knCDDXq9rSKa56m2e9QUCZaf0RICpLNfP4OENkddyQ-wPA/s3892/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(2)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2956" data-original-width="3892" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArO2qCM-vIN_skJ9mDC0yFkVcUKXzE22MJt6AGMSLkdcyk8xvsmgBAKov26SJjIzqaVfG02IlB4TWlFJhIgPFG_RLkRur0j_ku8owwWdBslnW4hrqZjJkEwW3wxFmnNKhGti4FW-rkkVi5knCDDXq9rSKa56m2e9QUCZaf0RICpLNfP4OENkddyQ-wPA/w400-h304/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(2)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Incoming Short-eared Owl. The last thing that a Meadow Vole wants to look up and see. As the light was fairly horrific yet the owling was great, I looked forward to a return visit to the site in the previous post. So, after seeing reports of breaking skies and some sunshine towards day's end Wednesday (12/27/2023), Shauna Weyrauch and I headed to Owlsville. The owls certainly didn't disappoint but the weather (and its forecasters) did. The predictions were way off base, and it was misty, foggy, and skies were even darker than during the preceding trip.<p></p><p>Such conditions made photography tough, but who cares? Numerous short-eared worked the fields, and at least as many Northern Harriers. There were many hostile interactions between the owls, and owls and harriers. At times, the angry terrier-like barks and low screams of owls rang out everywhere, mixed with the shrill whistles of the harriers. Not to mention the observation of a vole-caching, as described in the previous post. Just watching the action is great fun.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKMu-Vj-JNDD8hR4lbAX3kZMpbHKKDtgUJC6C-rrYvu_ipgEetSG0VdyguhFDCZvBT3j26BMmGlkr707MAI76vNFQ-0u645qDt_NZorgqxePF9-8QvAcGjw3TXHI2XhUGLm3CB8G4PCV11DuEcOhLudjMs1VWQ_CpuQ1QmRkyNAFftMaC0jZASValvvQ/s2478/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(5)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1692" data-original-width="2478" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKMu-Vj-JNDD8hR4lbAX3kZMpbHKKDtgUJC6C-rrYvu_ipgEetSG0VdyguhFDCZvBT3j26BMmGlkr707MAI76vNFQ-0u645qDt_NZorgqxePF9-8QvAcGjw3TXHI2XhUGLm3CB8G4PCV11DuEcOhLudjMs1VWQ_CpuQ1QmRkyNAFftMaC0jZASValvvQ/w400-h272/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(5)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A Short-eared Owl glares (menacingly? it doesn't look too menacing, but I'm not a vole) at the camera. As sunset approached and the light grew even worse, we headed down the road to see how many owls we could tally, not thinking that any additional photography would bear fruit. We didn't get far before encountering the individual above, perched obliging at eye level and very near the road. The bird cared not a whit about our presence and continued surveilling for other owls, and harriers, while presumably also watching for voles. I got the vehicle into a good position, killed the engine and we began shooting out the windows.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6R9W0BjjaqkMfETAq2tPu4op3MCG_bOnig-d-TwIE40aOuZSGAWYFvrNpMYA2goisCrTjAPxVDURo-NAnI_kNz_TwqU-6wIcJFRbsTWJG5WiQZdnMDUu399_WzhYYyOMVHsWqIvx69u8kezuW5yHnJJnu5qLl86kGW_0Ym5Nk8fuIQB_WBxmja1tTpEQ/s1678/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(13)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1678" data-original-width="1604" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6R9W0BjjaqkMfETAq2tPu4op3MCG_bOnig-d-TwIE40aOuZSGAWYFvrNpMYA2goisCrTjAPxVDURo-NAnI_kNz_TwqU-6wIcJFRbsTWJG5WiQZdnMDUu399_WzhYYyOMVHsWqIvx69u8kezuW5yHnJJnu5qLl86kGW_0Ym5Nk8fuIQB_WBxmja1tTpEQ/w383-h400/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2027,%202023%20(13)%20copy.jpg" width="383" /></a></div>It became apparent that the owl wasn't concerned with us. These owls are fairly tame, but this individual was unusually so. As the light was now really poor, we began playing with much lower shutter speeds to keep the ISO down. Shauna had it best as the owl happened to be on her side of the vehicle and she could use the door as a de facto tripod and brace her rig on the sill while using the vehicle as a blind of sorts.<div><br /></div><div><b>PHOTO NOTES</b>: Eventually I decided to slowly, quietly and carefully exit the vehicle, get my tripod out, and mount the rig on that. No issues, the owl didn't react. Thus stabilized, I was able to drop my shutter speed WAY down and still obtain sharp images. The image above was shot at 1/50 of a second at f/5.6, which gave an ISO of 1250. My Canon R5 handles higher ISOs well, and 1250 isn't too tough on it, and applying Topaz Denoise later helped clean up the image even more. Other than occasional turns of its head, the owl didn't move, so as long as I didn't fire while it was turning its head the bird might as well have been a feathered rock, especially as there was no wind. The previous image - of the same owl - was shot at 1/400 at f/5.6 (that aperture is wide-open on my Canon 800 lens) and that yielded an ISO of 1/5000. That image was made earlier in the sequence, before I bottomed out at 1/50. It is decidedly "noisier" than the image directly above, but it isn't too apparent as not much cropping was required.</div><div><br /></div><div>Naturally the first image had to be at a much higher shutter speed, to freeze the flying bird. I went as low as I felt that I could work with and still obtain sharp images, which was 1,250 of a second. Again, at f/5.6 (I shot everything wide open on this dim later afternoon) and that produced an ISO of 10000. FAR higher than I like but there was nothing to be done about it. Fortunately, the bird came very near, and I got my shot when it was quite close, thus eliminating the need for heavy cropping which greatly intensifies noise caused by high ISO values.</div><div><br /></div><div>In hindsight regarding the perched bird, I should have switched to 2-second timer delay and used touch screen focus. By doing so, I could have just touched the rear screen where the owl's head was (ALWAYS want eyes to be sharp). The touch would trigger the shot sequence to commence, and two seconds later the camera would fire, after any slight movement I might have caused while touching the camera to set focus would have stopped. About the only thing that could go awry is if the owl moved during my exposure, but if so, I would just retake another. By doing this, I could have experimented with exposures as low as 1/30 or 1/25, maybe even 1/10, and thus dropped the ISO much more while probably still managing sharp photos.</div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-15646153842492721522023-12-25T15:56:00.000-05:002023-12-25T15:56:19.244-05:00Short-eared Owls<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0o1sq0TUVBMUIbBXjLTGlKO5Yb_M7Trwuk3ycYvTGXKuxTwvJLAUGLq1nbaJ9hIDkbEfhm8tWEhbTcxHMYdpLAlxV7jrpxHMOpXcnF7QLXwccOjg9zp5PMNK_SLKW5eDuffZrDlVLKWNTAbLOyDa_FuxBuuEKA93Kpw7g0eSOi-kphpA5Mo3Q9xxmKo/s3030/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20(5)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3030" data-original-width="2652" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0o1sq0TUVBMUIbBXjLTGlKO5Yb_M7Trwuk3ycYvTGXKuxTwvJLAUGLq1nbaJ9hIDkbEfhm8tWEhbTcxHMYdpLAlxV7jrpxHMOpXcnF7QLXwccOjg9zp5PMNK_SLKW5eDuffZrDlVLKWNTAbLOyDa_FuxBuuEKA93Kpw7g0eSOi-kphpA5Mo3Q9xxmKo/w350-h400/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20(5)%20copy.jpg" width="350" /></a></div>A Short-eared Owl (<i>Asio flammeus</i>) watches for prey from atop a Honey Locust sapling. It was in the midst of hundreds of acres of grasslands. At least ten other owls shared its haunts, and at least as many Northern Harriers (<i>Circus cyaneus</i>).<p></p><p>A favored winter activity of birders, your narrator included, is watching Short-eared Owls. The charismatic raptors move southward from their breeding grounds in cyclically varying numbers. Some years, like this, there are lots of short-eareds about (at least in Ohio). In other winters relatively few are to be found.</p><p>On December 22, I made a trip to an area in north-central Ohio that is playing host to many owls. They were on the wing by 4 pm, but heavy cloud cover meant the light was poor. So, killer photos were not possible, but I share some documentary images here.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuctHPWy0LasE6mVqji9pFmFX1wI5rk-Yjipe81WRzZisnfZtu4v7Dh0ZglLt9Mxv273SQFB1ApaKmu5rsnuKJlQmZcHVkGPEO3Otw_ycyY2U_7Z3d5L3iUVZAHVW8t7X4t7MUYk7z4pMBefHVHAVwDuQzPvBN0I5Vl6I9G2MiWVXlYnGFe-TfqtGRTrk/s3330/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3270" data-original-width="3330" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuctHPWy0LasE6mVqji9pFmFX1wI5rk-Yjipe81WRzZisnfZtu4v7Dh0ZglLt9Mxv273SQFB1ApaKmu5rsnuKJlQmZcHVkGPEO3Otw_ycyY2U_7Z3d5L3iUVZAHVW8t7X4t7MUYk7z4pMBefHVHAVwDuQzPvBN0I5Vl6I9G2MiWVXlYnGFe-TfqtGRTrk/w400-h393/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A Short-eared Owl sits atop a road sign. As long as observers are quiet, the owls pay us little mind. I crept up on this bird in the vehicle, was able to get to about 30 feet from it, kill the motor, and watch. It was beyond dusk by this time, and light was extremely poor. Much post-processing was necessary to make the image presentable. But making great owl pictures is at best half the fun. Photos or not, Short-eared Owls are charismatic and always interesting to watch.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieq4cHyRK99QGGN-Kyo1OMbamF5a_pyuEtDpcRjg6tmQBFJ2c2YL4Nl-g6qTvUYRP2i-Zfoi5vPgFphKB4lgBGU7W1-x5TvEeY6engwj-_w6kLpO_-yPGQCFIxwr1bp7ecY-3-qrVP3HJCdTN5KtAl-FT1ShhiTaDLVlh6rEcuJEk2X_TEAsmLTB6e9JQ/s2328/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20(6)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2328" data-original-width="1854" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieq4cHyRK99QGGN-Kyo1OMbamF5a_pyuEtDpcRjg6tmQBFJ2c2YL4Nl-g6qTvUYRP2i-Zfoi5vPgFphKB4lgBGU7W1-x5TvEeY6engwj-_w6kLpO_-yPGQCFIxwr1bp7ecY-3-qrVP3HJCdTN5KtAl-FT1ShhiTaDLVlh6rEcuJEk2X_TEAsmLTB6e9JQ/w319-h400/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20(6)%20copy.jpg" width="319" /></a></div>I was pleased to see that an owl would habitually return to hunt from that locust sapling in the first photo. It meant that there would be plenty of action. Short-eared Owls are fiercely anti-social when hunting, seem to maintain loose territories, and don't hesitate to scrap with other owls (or other raptors). Several times passing owls would drop down to take a swipe at the bird in the locust. That triggered locust-owl to shoot aloft and engage the other in a dogfight, as above. Such squabbles are an aural treat, as the owls bark like angry terrier dogs, and emit low cat-like screams.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqx_PLLqD4PsbGnhdt124-4ExPcw-1Iqbh2_GUYZ_evk2xfRZRXNS9FBK3GFp0uE8ZJxnOq37iyb8Hl8ArSwMWHFZKp9lUS_d7khdcp_KXvH4gEayj49q7vTFTMOJUPuMWZ_MNqD2krZpS_xrE5TMGX1rEHI0S2BBqBT-syZFZ3MW2vojC2pOO9I5Prw4/s1932/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20(3)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1663" data-original-width="1932" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqx_PLLqD4PsbGnhdt124-4ExPcw-1Iqbh2_GUYZ_evk2xfRZRXNS9FBK3GFp0uE8ZJxnOq37iyb8Hl8ArSwMWHFZKp9lUS_d7khdcp_KXvH4gEayj49q7vTFTMOJUPuMWZ_MNqD2krZpS_xrE5TMGX1rEHI0S2BBqBT-syZFZ3MW2vojC2pOO9I5Prw4/w400-h344/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20(3)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A short-ear on the hunt. Incredibly acute eyesight and hearing enable them to pick up the slightest movements and sounds caused by rodents below.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8GMvX9EDYG466iKzLRBdDmhyphenhyphenQxPN4zkXed5K6j34DYP_7dfnQZWwhkQNngkHAGSWMDhKs_I44-vKud0h_wZ1oKD0x9O2sZScsvDahrcjq5B0eD2JwBUO8ySr52oX8rqBgdYoRuNAsfNzMk4Qk1-ZfEMBQv2wpgbdl1fXIxv5k5j2lSemwF4x6Kxhl38/s2676/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20(4)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2676" data-original-width="2633" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8GMvX9EDYG466iKzLRBdDmhyphenhyphenQxPN4zkXed5K6j34DYP_7dfnQZWwhkQNngkHAGSWMDhKs_I44-vKud0h_wZ1oKD0x9O2sZScsvDahrcjq5B0eD2JwBUO8ySr52oX8rqBgdYoRuNAsfNzMk4Qk1-ZfEMBQv2wpgbdl1fXIxv5k5j2lSemwF4x6Kxhl38/w394-h400/Short-eared%20Owl,%20Asio%20flammeus,%20La%20Rue%20grasslands,%20Marion%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2022,%202023%20(4)%20copy.jpg" width="394" /></a></div>Quick as a wink, this owl pirouetted on a dime and dropped hard into the grasses. I saw many such hunting attempts this evening, and nary a bird came up with prey. The miss rate is often very high.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXmsC5_rJ8T0Bw21yv8ghU9mN3zBbaZYRACBXnmP-1n9l0Kk_vw5THrBhvkvX70af2Z72IipCAtNQwEXcGCOae6bQPP2yfKY9mhF5lqdHrCnB8KnAjnPCNzOmFLV4X3bMZKbO2Jvh70gv75LLpR3iqfVqR9U87HfQujgUdlFeIXHB7Uzv7dPoz7bMZXxU/s2272/Meadow%20Vole%20Wyandot%20County%20January%202006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1704" data-original-width="2272" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXmsC5_rJ8T0Bw21yv8ghU9mN3zBbaZYRACBXnmP-1n9l0Kk_vw5THrBhvkvX70af2Z72IipCAtNQwEXcGCOae6bQPP2yfKY9mhF5lqdHrCnB8KnAjnPCNzOmFLV4X3bMZKbO2Jvh70gv75LLpR3iqfVqR9U87HfQujgUdlFeIXHB7Uzv7dPoz7bMZXxU/w400-h300/Meadow%20Vole%20Wyandot%20County%20January%202006.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>This is a Meadow Vole (<i>Microtus pennsylvanicus</i>) runway. The burly little rodents are probably the primary prey source for Short-eared Owls and Northern Harriers, at least in these grassland habitats. Vole runways, or raceways, are tunnels in the grass that mostly are hidden by a grassy roof. Occasional openings, as above, will briefly reveal the rodent to raptors coursing overhead.<div><br /></div><div>But I do not think that the owls need to rely on visual identification of prey items such as voles. They likely hear the rodents scurrying through the tunnels, or perhaps gnawing on vegetation. Even with the fine-tuned senses of a Short-eared Owl, it would still be a tall order to pounce unerringly on a vole, sight unseen, especially if it is moving. This may explain the seemingly high miss rate, although rest assured, the owls get many, many voles.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaj-x_1bURoPYqZFytPQcBfSWytK_DrQ9pv-i_ekbnjQKUKhcgTz81Aepo0s1iP59_wT7raoMKuxT8ToE3RpHEtt_KAuKCr96y1fntidYDGiiSQlfIEBaPUOihrOm1bRZLOGezBF3xLqF-2Xx3r0ZMUwkLMegXqGEfGbll-BeKQ8paZ_sYHhffEquFyXQ/s4928/Meadow%20vole,%20Marion%20Co.,%20OH%20December%2015,%202010%20(90)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="4928" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaj-x_1bURoPYqZFytPQcBfSWytK_DrQ9pv-i_ekbnjQKUKhcgTz81Aepo0s1iP59_wT7raoMKuxT8ToE3RpHEtt_KAuKCr96y1fntidYDGiiSQlfIEBaPUOihrOm1bRZLOGezBF3xLqF-2Xx3r0ZMUwkLMegXqGEfGbll-BeKQ8paZ_sYHhffEquFyXQ/w400-h265/Meadow%20vole,%20Marion%20Co.,%20OH%20December%2015,%202010%20(90)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A Meadow Vole dares to peek from a runway. A dash across open ground when lots of raptors are present is a suicide mission for the chunky rodents. Better to stay in the tunnels to up one's survival potential.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div>Meadow Voles have marked boom and bust cycles. Peaks can occur anywhere from every other year to every third or fourth year. The reasons for these fluctuations are imperfectly understood, but one thing is for sure: raptors quickly pick up on areas rich in the rodents. It has been claimed that at least some raptor species can detect vole urine trails visually, as their eyes can detect ultraviolet reflections in urinary compounds. Thus, the birds would view urine trails as easily seen purple squiggles, thus allowing vole-hunting raptors to quickly ascertain areas of food abundance and forgo areas with a paucity of prey. Much has been written about vole urine/UV/raptors, such <a href="https://peregrinefund.org/keen-vision#:~:text=Some%20rodents%20produce%20urine%20and,day%2C%20have%20good%20color%20vision.">AS THIS</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>This all makes for a great story, except it may not be accurate. <a href="https://journals.biologists.com/jeb/article/216/10/1819/11547/Ultraviolet-sensitivity-and-colour-vision-in">CLICK HERE</a> for a paper that delineates the ability of select raptor species' ability to see into the reflective range of ultraviolet light, and how that compares with UV reflectance from vole urine. It may just be that avian vole-hunters such as Short-eared Owls, Northern Harriers, American Kestrels, and Rough-legged Hawks simply find troves of voles through their extraordinary vision, abetted in the case of the owl and harrier with highly attuned hearing. I have been in sites experiencing very high vole numbers on several occasions, and it was not difficult to detect voles, so many were racing about. Raptors, with their far sharper vision and ability to get an overhead perspective, undoubtedly quickly assess vole populations.<br /><div><br /><div>UV-reflective vole urine aside, Short-eared Owl watching is great fun (except for the voles). I hope you get to experience some of these charismatic hooters this winter.<br /><div><div><div><p><br /></p></div></div></div></div></div></div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-1717058082660855342023-12-22T21:30:00.000-05:002023-12-22T21:30:00.064-05:00Field Sparrow, in winter<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgogUV4dkP00CvE7tx18S6urOQ0jw2xA1GhBkAdgZOFsFxLVqSdMBdrdgMAeAmGW4iddISA56HjHTtzSZz5gv2oAV8yghOLdVKSV3CjJg_11IPXo4Q95rsvkOMmkA1iIxb76-1qrAZZNI9N-Ftky3FoD3Nn9MOe5_xwkEacJYwHerqukcmT-4PwxKyfcx8/s2869/Field%20Sparrow,%20Spizella%20pusilla,%20Beaver%20Valley%20CBC,%20Jackson%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2016,%202023%20(1)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2153" data-original-width="2869" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgogUV4dkP00CvE7tx18S6urOQ0jw2xA1GhBkAdgZOFsFxLVqSdMBdrdgMAeAmGW4iddISA56HjHTtzSZz5gv2oAV8yghOLdVKSV3CjJg_11IPXo4Q95rsvkOMmkA1iIxb76-1qrAZZNI9N-Ftky3FoD3Nn9MOe5_xwkEacJYwHerqukcmT-4PwxKyfcx8/w400-h300/Field%20Sparrow,%20Spizella%20pusilla,%20Beaver%20Valley%20CBC,%20Jackson%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%2016,%202023%20(1)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A Field Sparrow (<i>Spizella pusilla</i>), distinctive with its pinkish bill, reddish cap, and white eye ring, on a frosty morning. During the breeding season, males deliver a beautifully melodic trilled song. In winter, Field Sparrows become far less conspicuous and skulk in old fields and brushy successional habitats. Ohio is at the northern limits of their wintering range and numbers seem to vary considerably from year to year. Last Saturday, December 16, while doing the Beaver Valley Christmas Bird Count in Jackson County, Shauna Weyrauch and I located 21 Field Sparrows - a personal record for a CBC. P.S.: The bill has grass seed stuck to it, hence the oddly misshapen look. Field Sparrows are big consumers of grass fruit.<p></p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-2471924741666978482023-12-19T07:54:00.000-05:002023-12-19T07:54:09.302-05:00Nature: Teeny-tiny golden-crowned kinglets are small, yes, but tough as nails<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_jpnJJdgCIw4qInNlT8JAwV_jxLzeRGHDjQp2eJhi7qNhr5mT5cDeTt1NdLxSvgMfbIcuyWvH-lH65L96uLuvDqmBEPfhb2k51NWUoBYGPNWGOx5SADQUre0asPjqqsHvbTFCwU0UJ41ROuUgQcaN3vtHmPL8xSYYMiEEupTp3SKakfW57UsXEiMXKo/s1992/Golden-crowned%20Kinglet,%20Regulus%20satrapa,%20Greenlawn%20Cemetery,%20Frankln%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%206,%202023%20(8)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1376" data-original-width="1992" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_jpnJJdgCIw4qInNlT8JAwV_jxLzeRGHDjQp2eJhi7qNhr5mT5cDeTt1NdLxSvgMfbIcuyWvH-lH65L96uLuvDqmBEPfhb2k51NWUoBYGPNWGOx5SADQUre0asPjqqsHvbTFCwU0UJ41ROuUgQcaN3vtHmPL8xSYYMiEEupTp3SKakfW57UsXEiMXKo/w400-h276/Golden-crowned%20Kinglet,%20Regulus%20satrapa,%20Greenlawn%20Cemetery,%20Frankln%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%206,%202023%20(8)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A male golden-crowned kinglet/Jim McCormac</i></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Nature: Teeny-tiny golden-crowned kinglets are small, yes, but tough as nails</b></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/lifestyle/nature-wildlife/2023/12/16/nature-golden-crowned-kinglets-live-in-a-down-filled-sleeping-bag/71889467007/">Columbus Dispatch</a><br /><i>December 17, 2023</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>NATURE</b><br />Jim McCormac</div><br />What is the smallest songbird in Ohio? Ruby-throated hummingbird? Wrong, although it’s a trick question of sorts, as hummingbirds are not songbirds. They belong to the non-passerine birds, a large group that includes sandpipers, waterfowl, woodpeckers, hummingbirds and many other families.<br /><br />The passerines, or perching birds, is the largest order of birds and includes familiar species such as cardinals, flycatchers, jays, and warblers. In all, the Passeriformes includes about 6,500 species — most of the birds currently known. And the tiniest of the lot in our region is the golden-crowned kinglet, an elfin that measures only four inches in length, sports a seven-inch wingspan and weighs but six grams. That’s barely more than a nickel. Quite a contrast to our largest regularly occurring native bird, the wild turkey. Big toms regularly eclipse 18 pounds, and the largest ever killed was a Kentucky gobbler that crushed the scales at 37.6 pounds. It would take 2,845 golden-crowned kinglets to equal the mass of that turkey.<br /><br />Golden-crowned kinglets may be small but they’re tough. The core breeding range is a broad swath of boreal forest ranging from Newfoundland, Canada, to Alaska. Kinglets are heavily associated with conifers, and also breed at higher elevations of eastern and western mountain ranges. Ohio is on the southern edge of the nesting range, and there have been only a handful of breeding records, mostly in the northeast quarter of the state.<br /><br />In winter, kinglets disperse south across the lower 48 states, and become common in Ohio. These sprites can be easily missed due to their size, and propensity for foraging in the heavy cover of coniferous trees. Those tuned into their frequently delivered wispy, high-pitched tsee-tsee-tsee calls will find far more kinglets.<br /><br />I visited Green Lawn Cemetery on Dec. 7, camera in tow, seeking feathered quarry. The cemetery, on Columbus’s south side, covers 360 acres and is a haven for birds. My main target was a pair of merlins that have been hanging out there. The powerful little falcons mostly feed on songbirds and they’ve got plenty of prey at Green Lawn. I found both merlins, and many photos later wandered off in search of other subjects.<br /><br />To my delight, I soon stumbled into a half-dozen golden-crowned kinglets foraging in a copse of ornamental cedar and spruce. An assemblage of kinglets is known as a court, and these birds were presiding in the lower boughs, luckily for me. I began firing away with my camera, but securing quality images of kinglets is no easy task. They are nearly always in motion, flicking wings and tail, and darting among the branches. I took around 400 images, and ended up with about 10 keepers.<br /><br />Both males and females were present. The latter have but a golden stripe on the crown. Males, as in the accompanying photo, are adorned with flaming orange and gold stripes. When agitated or feeling assertive, a male will fluff the crown feathers into a riotous explosion of color, as if the top of its head went aflame.<br /><br />While kinglets eat small amounts of seeds and fruit in winter, the overwhelming majority of their diet is small invertebrate prey. Mites, spiders, springtails, various insects, their eggs, etc. Many species in these groups are active or at least in accessible spots in winter, and kinglets are adept at finding them. A real kinglet treat is a caterpillar. Some conifer-specialist moth species’ caterpillars overwinter, plastered to twigs and blending with bark to an incredible degree. Kinglets find plenty, though.<br /><br />Biologist Bernd Heinrich, in his remarkable book "Winter World," describes the mechanisms that enable kinglets to survive frosty winter nights when temperatures might plummet below zero. For starters, they maintain a body temperature of about 110 degrees Fahrenheit. Humans risk heat stroke and death once internal temperatures reach about 104 degrees. An inch-thick-layer of soft down feathers is covered by shingle-like contour feathers that trap body heat. In effect, the kinglet lives in a down-filled sleeping bag. At night, the bird stuffs it head into its feathers, shielding it from bitter cold. To further retain warmth on especially cold nights, small groups of kinglets huddle tightly together on inner branches overarched with snow-covered needles. Such arboreal snow caves further reduce heat loss by offering protection from wind.<br /><br />The golden-crowned kinglet may be an impossibly tiny, feathered gem, fragile and delicate at first glance, but it’s tough as nails.<br /><br /><i>Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at <a href="http://www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com/">www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com</a>.</i><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoLP4NCHLi7DRh-09GUHWOxdIMIeLjpv7wAulFxlK3_6shXvdqbj2iHV0T52fKjzx_oRgrc44YdxO6J9YwLwDDDeWkNpJ3CrKY09sjnNnSd-nqTAI-hGqWweFhb6CmyxlnIaAH9650lS5SClgFqEvONupg2TLg4eMikVq-pHgmETMFQCRUrlDnX7Uc-o/s1472/Golden-crowned%20Kinglet,%20Regulus%20satrapa,%20Greenlawn%20Cemetery,%20Frankln%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%206,%202023%20(16)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1472" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoLP4NCHLi7DRh-09GUHWOxdIMIeLjpv7wAulFxlK3_6shXvdqbj2iHV0T52fKjzx_oRgrc44YdxO6J9YwLwDDDeWkNpJ3CrKY09sjnNnSd-nqTAI-hGqWweFhb6CmyxlnIaAH9650lS5SClgFqEvONupg2TLg4eMikVq-pHgmETMFQCRUrlDnX7Uc-o/w391-h400/Golden-crowned%20Kinglet,%20Regulus%20satrapa,%20Greenlawn%20Cemetery,%20Frankln%20County,%20Ohio,%20December%206,%202023%20(16)%20copy.jpg" width="391" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>When agitated, golden-crowned kinglets flare their brilliant crown feathers/Jim McCormac</i></div><p></p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-15272312858569123032023-12-14T11:32:00.003-05:002023-12-14T11:32:49.209-05:00Pencilflower<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4x-MfaFi6snH9Ey1aeMAcA8sirla_0rRUu9WIzp-xin9j4F3rm_SbZjl9Zp5Ip_14rmOLcwh9zflabaCUFMxhJDs25uhyphenhyphen2RVLwIn-n6l1BjqSfp8h0hhl_q3WQAvq-11QcYrXK51wh0ViGcNHLROJnNWFMt5MEeBMXjxUSSj2W7gG28THvkbYLoKz3o4/s1872/Pencil-flower,%20Stylosanthes%20biflora,%20Shawnee%20State%20Forest,%20Scioto%20County,%20Ohio,%20August%2025,%202023%20(7)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1429" data-original-width="1872" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4x-MfaFi6snH9Ey1aeMAcA8sirla_0rRUu9WIzp-xin9j4F3rm_SbZjl9Zp5Ip_14rmOLcwh9zflabaCUFMxhJDs25uhyphenhyphen2RVLwIn-n6l1BjqSfp8h0hhl_q3WQAvq-11QcYrXK51wh0ViGcNHLROJnNWFMt5MEeBMXjxUSSj2W7gG28THvkbYLoKz3o4/w400-h305/Pencil-flower,%20Stylosanthes%20biflora,%20Shawnee%20State%20Forest,%20Scioto%20County,%20Ohio,%20August%2025,%202023%20(7)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p>I apologize for the paucity of posts of late. Generally, I try to slap about two subjects up weekly, but that's not been possible in the past few weeks. Hopefully I'll be able to get back in the groove soon enough. Anyway, to the task at hand.</p>I've probably always been more drawn to the obscure rather than the overt, and this plant fits that bill. It is Pencilflower (<i>Stylosanthes biflora</i>), a tiny pea family member. The yellowish flower is only about 7 mm in length, and the herbage of this nearly prostrate plant is also very diminutive. Pencil-flower favors dry barrens and openings, and easily succumbs to succession by larger plants. Southern Ohio represents its northern limits, and Pencil-flower has been documented in less than a dozen counties in the state, probably no longer occurs in all of them, and populations are often quite small and widely scattered. I shot this specimen in Shawnee State Forest, Scioto County, Ohio, on August 25, 2023.<p></p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-82336123432893608132023-12-04T10:32:00.000-05:002023-12-04T10:32:05.562-05:00Young white-crowned sparrows perfecting melody still a delight to behold<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1e3nW4bv5XVvT4w2vBZwAnkUDt73-L8CMw4KzrvxvicbUEdIiDISP0fuuA-YZUt__ojFRqwo8mrs4H9F_-xG0WJbSfk5Ys3H4G8R523BapjlAk2DtFDKUumVXiEoCZm2LGf-wd4AxvzuikBgy8HXV1BQ3bDsp2MbK66oZvzwgNFJm0C11EbPfN4cbQog/s1884/An%20adult%20white-crowned%20sparrow%20sings%20a%20perfect%20song.%20Jim%20McCormac%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1404" data-original-width="1884" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1e3nW4bv5XVvT4w2vBZwAnkUDt73-L8CMw4KzrvxvicbUEdIiDISP0fuuA-YZUt__ojFRqwo8mrs4H9F_-xG0WJbSfk5Ys3H4G8R523BapjlAk2DtFDKUumVXiEoCZm2LGf-wd4AxvzuikBgy8HXV1BQ3bDsp2MbK66oZvzwgNFJm0C11EbPfN4cbQog/w400-h297/An%20adult%20white-crowned%20sparrow%20sings%20a%20perfect%20song.%20Jim%20McCormac%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>An adult white-crowned sparrow sings a perfect song/Jim McCormac</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Young white-crowned sparrows perfecting melody still a delight to behold</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/lifestyle/nature-wildlife/2023/12/02/white-crowned-sparrows-buzzy-songs-easily-identifiable/71720101007/">Columbus Dispatch</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>December 3rd, 2023</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>NATURE</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Jim McCormac</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I am only a sparrow amongst a great flock of sparrows.</i></div><i><br /></i><div style="text-align: center;"><i>— Evita Peron</i></div><br />There are lots of sparrows. Excepting birders, they get little play or press. I was mildly self-disgusted to scroll back through the roster of nearly 400 Dispatch columns I’ve written to date and see that I’ve written about them only thrice. And now, a fourth time.<br /><br />On a recent frosty morning, Ohio State University biology professor Shauna Weyrauch and I ventured to Slate Run Metro Park in northern Pickaway County. A highlight of the 1,700-plus acre park is a sprawling conservation area on the park’s western border. Numerous wetlands, meadows, thickets, and woodland patches create a diversity of habitat.<br /><br />Birds were our targets and quarry was plentiful. A pair of giant sandhill cranes offered great looks. The big birds have nested here, and this may have been the local pair. Less conspicuous was five Wilson’s snipe that rocketed from a thick patch of smartweed. Yes, snipe actually exist beyond the campfire legends of “snipe hunting”.<br /><br />I was pleased to hear the rough “jit-jit” notes of a ruby-crowned kinglet. While a common migrant earlier in fall, by late November the tiny bird is rare. Its tinier relative the golden-crowned kinglet was common, as was our hardiest warbler, the yellow-rumped warbler. Several purple finches, down from the North Country, were also present.<br /><br />But it was sparrows that consumed much of our attention. We detected eight species, and missed another, the field sparrow, that was surely present. Although the temperature was only in the high 20s, sunny conditions stimulated much singing among the sparrows. A fox sparrow gave its slurred drunken whistles, somehow melded artfully into a pleasing aria. Well-named song sparrows delivered their complex tunes, and white-throated sparrows whistled from thickets.<br /><br />We were especially pleased to come across a band of white-crowned sparrows. This species nests far to our north, in taiga and tundra habitats. Adults sport crisply striped heads — think Michigan Wolverines football helmet, but with the stripes black and white. Duller first-year birds were also present, and the bird in the photo was one of them. It was born last summer, and it’ll take the better part of a year to develop the natty headgear.<br /><br />Although white-crowned sparrows are not particularly shy, they were mostly busy seeking seeds in thick cover. Their airy buzzy songs gave them away, and thus guided to their honey holes, we were occasionally rewarded with views when one teed up on a plant.<br /><br />White-crowned sparrow song is a delight to the ear: a mellifluous series of whistles and buzzes infused with a rather melancholy tone. While some adults sang and did so perfectly, the as-yet unpolished juveniles were more conspicuous to my ear, in the way that an un-tuned guitar would be. Young white-crowns begin their singing lessons within a few months of hatching, but mastering the melody takes much practice.<br /><br />Young white-crowned sparrows must learn their songs from adults, and lesson one begins almost immediately upon fledgling. They imprint the song of nearby males, creating a mental model that they will later learn to duplicate. Then comes the plastic (adaptive learning) phase, in which young sparrows practice their songs to be. This formative period lasts throughout winter and into spring, and it was this raw product that we heard much of on our Slate Run expedition. The youngsters sound unpolished, akin to a kid early on in his or her musical lessons on a recorder. There are imperfections in notes, sequence and overall delivery.<br /><br />By the time these as yet amateur avian musicians reach their northerly breeding grounds late next spring, they’ll be able to sing like Pavarotti. Practice makes perfect, even in the bird world. And when it comes to sheer aural elegance, few of our birds can match the sparrows.<br /><br /><i>Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at <a href="http://www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com/">www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com</a>.</i><div><i><br /></i></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpNBSDvIkaSvE66IxcVHM_gzgbikyqO8hj0kJ5OPNLa6UYu37UXf2pjnn8vk9Dbu87AactPfta99Do9NLqJS0hklL9xtPnB9mPakfWPub_jUdm-cIAr87ODyEH3GxDVnOx5gFJkEyR5AMxRsw2VWNvo1yp-2ICnEo6pTqwpOa28aXRviWi_Zy_tWAFXYs/s1745/White-crowned%20Sparrow,%20Zonotrichia%20leucophrys,%20Slate%20Run%20MP,%20Pickaway%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2024,%202023%20(4)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1745" data-original-width="1520" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpNBSDvIkaSvE66IxcVHM_gzgbikyqO8hj0kJ5OPNLa6UYu37UXf2pjnn8vk9Dbu87AactPfta99Do9NLqJS0hklL9xtPnB9mPakfWPub_jUdm-cIAr87ODyEH3GxDVnOx5gFJkEyR5AMxRsw2VWNvo1yp-2ICnEo6pTqwpOa28aXRviWi_Zy_tWAFXYs/w349-h400/White-crowned%20Sparrow,%20Zonotrichia%20leucophrys,%20Slate%20Run%20MP,%20Pickaway%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2024,%202023%20(4)%20copy.jpg" width="349" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A subadult white-crowned sparrow practices singing/Jim McCormac</i></div><i><br /></i></div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-27935564986148564042023-11-28T22:02:00.003-05:002023-11-28T22:02:36.891-05:00Invasive honeysuckles and birds<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZ-SEzNaN1XSH0jUjdwjEZ0pDuFlH1QtMGTfAPqERi7AP6pFD1x22wd7Run4GP9NZjSel8Fw1tGSKTQ7UVMMJj2ky5bYruyvwvh76yRpH5jpyrDMO8GEluGaFE1mI98JGat2WoI0pM2mZ3vQcjlKQnBBrmXnmv6CCZt4J4OmAP3F02Wc0HYKs61LBX6o/s3264/Amur%20Honeysuckle,%20Lonicera%20maackii,%20Auglaize%20County,%20Ohio%20April%2010,%202007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRZ-SEzNaN1XSH0jUjdwjEZ0pDuFlH1QtMGTfAPqERi7AP6pFD1x22wd7Run4GP9NZjSel8Fw1tGSKTQ7UVMMJj2ky5bYruyvwvh76yRpH5jpyrDMO8GEluGaFE1mI98JGat2WoI0pM2mZ3vQcjlKQnBBrmXnmv6CCZt4J4OmAP3F02Wc0HYKs61LBX6o/w400-h300/Amur%20Honeysuckle,%20Lonicera%20maackii,%20Auglaize%20County,%20Ohio%20April%2010,%202007.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A western Ohio woodland, its understory utterly dominated by Amur Honeysuckle (<i>Lonicera maackii</i>). While there are other species of Asiatic honeysuckles running amok in the Midwest, this one is by far the worst culprit in most areas I visit. It is firmly entrenched in our flora, much to the detriment of the indigenous plants.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitu_2ZdfKNYsTyryFdd9P58RwiCP4hzfv25AZBRD6zacJYigTUcZBRjE1x8XCiS678LK4POHNOAb77a2Y45HDtAG71hrGQ9LtMQ7sFn354_JSPOJftrOMBfCD4u9gV2QY5dfuiJARjg5IWuJ1g9pXoZiZbqyuYyDyz9Su7R2v276csu_8bAt3Tj4gU-EQ/s4008/IMG_9923%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1524" data-original-width="4008" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitu_2ZdfKNYsTyryFdd9P58RwiCP4hzfv25AZBRD6zacJYigTUcZBRjE1x8XCiS678LK4POHNOAb77a2Y45HDtAG71hrGQ9LtMQ7sFn354_JSPOJftrOMBfCD4u9gV2QY5dfuiJARjg5IWuJ1g9pXoZiZbqyuYyDyz9Su7R2v276csu_8bAt3Tj4gU-EQ/w400-h153/IMG_9923%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>As always, click the image to enlarge</i></div><p></p><p>It wasn't always so. The nonnative bush honeysuckles like Amur Honeysuckle weren't a major problem until fairly recently. In Lucy Braun's <i>The Woody Plants of Ohio</i> (1961), she devotes a scant two sentences to it. Braun knew it only in the wild from the far southwestern corner of Ohio (Hamilton County) but did note that it was "becoming abundant".</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIznS1fW1NyH8EAex9VqTSw06025NNDUM2wMCOil5NcNhUz6voxouY9u3fezG26twbpLbnPkvh7kfxGbQ08ea-E-OS4AQfejshdaEV6ztmciGyuub5q_exJczdEPaYhtbkPDMneay-7w1QQHRmuo4jHJ20C8VxumIsnKTby1vGtAwc2NsDqlJSCGkwHJg/s2058/IMG_9924%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2058" data-original-width="1926" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIznS1fW1NyH8EAex9VqTSw06025NNDUM2wMCOil5NcNhUz6voxouY9u3fezG26twbpLbnPkvh7kfxGbQ08ea-E-OS4AQfejshdaEV6ztmciGyuub5q_exJczdEPaYhtbkPDMneay-7w1QQHRmuo4jHJ20C8VxumIsnKTby1vGtAwc2NsDqlJSCGkwHJg/w374-h400/IMG_9924%20copy.jpg" width="374" /></a></div>This map is from Tom Cooperrider's decidedly unsexily titled <i>The Dicotyledoneae of Ohio: Part 2: Linaceae through Campanulaceae</i>. The book was published in 1995 and gives a snapshot of the progress of Amur Honeysuckle in Ohio. Twenty counties have been added since Braun's publication 34 years prior. It should be noted that botanical works such as these rely on vouchered specimens as evidence, and there are relatively few botanists that collect and archive material in herbaria. By 1995, Amur Honeysuckle was undoubtedly in counties beyond those depicted on this map but was definitely not the scourge it is now.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDMWupkZyaU075v_4ZgVcozkfOgHw4rxdNVdw424XB6JQMxpacNtts0OAhYnIAEPezj3djFkbXvCayl28OTJfCUVkREB1Cm7fhyHoMnptb43OAOLjbKUoQuQq6RGjl0EPqf_PDtjDNuGY2jjfBu3ZEmAjqRKApw_Hm7UpaZjohIBPH7ig3TYSfpE4O6E/s1245/inat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="1245" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDMWupkZyaU075v_4ZgVcozkfOgHw4rxdNVdw424XB6JQMxpacNtts0OAhYnIAEPezj3djFkbXvCayl28OTJfCUVkREB1Cm7fhyHoMnptb43OAOLjbKUoQuQq6RGjl0EPqf_PDtjDNuGY2jjfBu3ZEmAjqRKApw_Hm7UpaZjohIBPH7ig3TYSfpE4O6E/w400-h299/inat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Cut to today, and documentation of the horror show that Amur Honeysuckle has become. The orange squares representing reports congeal into blobs, so frequent are the observations. This is part of the <a href="https://www.inaturalist.org/observations?place_id=any&subview=map&taxon_id=82342">iNaturalist map</a>, which relies on peer-reviewed photos submitted by observers. Ohio is smack in the middle of this snippet of the map, and honeysuckle pretty well blankets the state. Good old <i>Lonicera maackii</i> is certainly in all 88 counties, and at least locally abundant in many or most of them.<div><br /></div><div>How did it get here? Apparently, the original escapes came from the New York Botanical Garden, which began promoting Amur Honeysuckle as an ornamental in 1898. By the 1930's and '40's, wildlife agencies greatly exacerbated the problem-to-be by widely promoting honeysuckle as a ground cover, soil stabilizer, and wildlife food plant. As often seems to happen with invasives, there was a few decades long gestation period where the plant did not run amok, but probably largely stayed where it was put. In Ohio and this region of the Midwest, the spread probably began in earnest in the 1980's and the trajectory was obvious by the time of Cooperider's 1995 book. One need only glance at the iNaturalist map to see what has happened since.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgTe22cPL8oTqezsWlkAllleXZgha9fgeKlE96pzbICs6BxOejPWolpWMJkhxeTdB0M9DntLL9CPwjKbcG4V1T2QKlnEAGkWzSB6J5ynBR_FxlYJBII9ww8br8zQ4ttj11z4DtwMX-WzcVxmMlPLra6Q5tROEXnWq1pa4JFBphXs7pgIyjxHHOf28bXg/s3162/Amur%20Honeysuckle,%20Lonicera%20maackii,%20Castalia%20Pond,%20Erie%20Co.,%20OH%20November%2011,%202015%20(9)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2784" data-original-width="3162" height="353" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgTe22cPL8oTqezsWlkAllleXZgha9fgeKlE96pzbICs6BxOejPWolpWMJkhxeTdB0M9DntLL9CPwjKbcG4V1T2QKlnEAGkWzSB6J5ynBR_FxlYJBII9ww8br8zQ4ttj11z4DtwMX-WzcVxmMlPLra6Q5tROEXnWq1pa4JFBphXs7pgIyjxHHOf28bXg/w400-h353/Amur%20Honeysuckle,%20Lonicera%20maackii,%20Castalia%20Pond,%20Erie%20Co.,%20OH%20November%2011,%202015%20(9)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Small wonder people were smitten with Amur Honeysuckle. It is pleasing in form, and sports abundant showy white flowers.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyd3KCEDMKLbBNGuUSmtAgANRFkDn75RMH1vjAu_FHnthPPjkRnz9P3VqOoqa6zE_IIy1ydO7CZN9fdpjpccP1sxl1fvOisi4Gyp-G9RZXKUrYi0JAi-JSLSZKU_7P2acDXd8jTj8yGRdhOOCHHZM5pbW7sKlXSCRtVXrWDek3z_Xtg4Vcjm5ucuIwfg/s2995/Amur%20Honeysuckle,%20Lonicera%20maackii,%20Kiwanis%20Park,%20Franklin%20Co.,%20OH%20October%2011,%202008%20(153)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2607" data-original-width="2995" height="349" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyd3KCEDMKLbBNGuUSmtAgANRFkDn75RMH1vjAu_FHnthPPjkRnz9P3VqOoqa6zE_IIy1ydO7CZN9fdpjpccP1sxl1fvOisi4Gyp-G9RZXKUrYi0JAi-JSLSZKU_7P2acDXd8jTj8yGRdhOOCHHZM5pbW7sKlXSCRtVXrWDek3z_Xtg4Vcjm5ucuIwfg/w400-h349/Amur%20Honeysuckle,%20Lonicera%20maackii,%20Kiwanis%20Park,%20Franklin%20Co.,%20OH%20October%2011,%202008%20(153)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Alas, those flowers later become equally showy fruit, also abundant. Brightly colored berries probably evolved to lure agents of dispersal, especially birds. Birds are drawn to bright fruit, and it is to the honeysuckle's advantage to have its berries eaten by highly mobile winged creatures. A frugivorous (fruit-eating) bird might expel the seeds a long distance away, effectively playing the unwitting role of avian Johnny Appleseeds. Birds are surely the primary reason for the remarkably rapid invasion across a broad swath of eastern North America.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3xBn7Kv2w-gY2giBrlWtQ4CDSgNXDFuza2HqnAdbCE-_kslNjdCUQWz9CyWd-3-CUosUswV2ftIcTrk8_tOWtg3VRBe75BbWE9_VCx5B5NHH9WQMUaWwQZ68xWvWzWTDEv3GMdIHwRP1cTFRpSCduM9IHZzv6ZF4iUJsF0cPbpuIRoH_E1Vcqf60g_M/s2131/American%20Robin,%20Turdus%20migratorius,%20OSU%20Wetlands%20Research%20Park,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2025,%202023%20(3)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1509" data-original-width="2131" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig3xBn7Kv2w-gY2giBrlWtQ4CDSgNXDFuza2HqnAdbCE-_kslNjdCUQWz9CyWd-3-CUosUswV2ftIcTrk8_tOWtg3VRBe75BbWE9_VCx5B5NHH9WQMUaWwQZ68xWvWzWTDEv3GMdIHwRP1cTFRpSCduM9IHZzv6ZF4iUJsF0cPbpuIRoH_E1Vcqf60g_M/w400-h284/American%20Robin,%20Turdus%20migratorius,%20OSU%20Wetlands%20Research%20Park,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2025,%202023%20(3)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>An American Robin (<i>Turdus migratorius</i>) sits among a sea of Amur Honeysuckle fruit. It is akin to a kid in a bowl of M & M's. The 50-acre preserve where I made this shot is in Columbus, and I visited last Sunday. The site was thoroughly infested with honeysuckle, and dozens if not hundreds of robins gorged themselves on the fruit.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2iRfkvBYFyQleInmzJQfCf_jv0S2qMVnkaphT8PaSCulxCOWuIvUPQN3Ok2NjJ6nMLLf373fFXYOiQpZ9e0BctKJyXy-rQ9xoQRt-_lwx4prkv7GuQbRBAnB5EHrRFA8RBdMOv7rKFx8GhLzGTaprMpkboQyH1Izd7y2esWTpgicGpaTGzMNfAl-hupk/s2520/White-throated%20Sparrow,%20Zonotrichia%20albicollis,%20OSU%20Wetlands%20Research%20Park,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2025,%202023%20(4)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1976" data-original-width="2520" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2iRfkvBYFyQleInmzJQfCf_jv0S2qMVnkaphT8PaSCulxCOWuIvUPQN3Ok2NjJ6nMLLf373fFXYOiQpZ9e0BctKJyXy-rQ9xoQRt-_lwx4prkv7GuQbRBAnB5EHrRFA8RBdMOv7rKFx8GhLzGTaprMpkboQyH1Izd7y2esWTpgicGpaTGzMNfAl-hupk/w400-h314/White-throated%20Sparrow,%20Zonotrichia%20albicollis,%20OSU%20Wetlands%20Research%20Park,%20Franklin%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2025,%202023%20(4)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A first-year White-throated Sparrow (<i>Zonotrichia albicollis</i>) caught in the act, berry in beak. This species is probably our most abundant migratory sparrow, and many were present here - same site as the robin above.<div><br /></div><div>With abundant frugivores such as the American Robin and White-throated Sparrow (not a major frugivore but nonetheless they have a taste for honeysuckle berries) eating this stuff, it's small wonder that honeysuckle has spread so rapidly and continues to do so. Many other bird species eat it as well including a hyper-abundant nonnative, the European Starling (<i>Sturnis vulgaris</i>). What is curious to me is the apparent lag time from when Amur Honeysuckle began to be planted commonly (1930's-40's), to when it became an obvious and worsening invasive plant (1980's). I wonder if birds, confronted rather abruptly with a completely foreign plant, basically ignore it for a while, not recognizing a potential food source. Maybe it takes a few decades for the feathered crowd to develop a taste for the stuff and begin ravishing it in earnest. But once they do, the game is over.</div><div><br /></div><div>Amur Honeysuckle is so thoroughly entrenched now that there is no way to eliminate the overwhelming majority of it. Localized control in targeted parks and natural areas can be successful but constant vigilance is necessary as new seed sources will be introduced annually.</div><div><br /></div><div>We can hope that Amur Honeysuckle eventually runs its course, and fades out, as some invasive species seem to do. But there's no sign of that happening yet.</div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-44721989389279411632023-11-20T22:13:00.001-05:002023-11-20T22:13:48.144-05:00Nature: Investigating the northern saw-whet owl in Ohio<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5etHn4JEwIDvDpkLQR1jUGhH-r3wxHg3YXf4JjYXd9aeomPUcfmaSi3PGBMA7K0JKVcPWA2grYRqZssCyXvXiGuQA4C7j-aEN1SbKms6gMmEk78ywkut5kTYJjHU1vJsCdibHGc7WNE2Md4BjtkA-JjTnFpXshsCMZgKk1ppMcn4XrRuS6KXDSj7t3FM/s3664/Northern%20Saw-whet%20Owl,%20Aegolius%20acadicus,%20Blake%20Mathys%20property,%20Union%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2011,%202023%20(7)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3664" data-original-width="2997" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5etHn4JEwIDvDpkLQR1jUGhH-r3wxHg3YXf4JjYXd9aeomPUcfmaSi3PGBMA7K0JKVcPWA2grYRqZssCyXvXiGuQA4C7j-aEN1SbKms6gMmEk78ywkut5kTYJjHU1vJsCdibHGc7WNE2Md4BjtkA-JjTnFpXshsCMZgKk1ppMcn4XrRuS6KXDSj7t3FM/w328-h400/Northern%20Saw-whet%20Owl,%20Aegolius%20acadicus,%20Blake%20Mathys%20property,%20Union%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2011,%202023%20(7)%20copy.jpg" width="328" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A northern saw-whet owl rests in the hand of Blake Mathys, just prior to its release/Jim McCormac</i></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Nature: Investigating the northern saw-whet owl in Ohio</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/lifestyle/nature-wildlife/2023/11/18/northern-saw-whet-owls-found-in-ohio-nature-column/71591603007/">Columbus Dispatch</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>November 19th, 2023</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>NATURE</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Jim McCormac</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Lots of interesting and little-known creatures emerge under cover of darkness. Some of them are human, but most are not. Perhaps foremost in piquing human interest about animals that ply their trade after nightfall are the owls.<br /><br />Owls have long been a source of fascination to us. Athena, the mythical Greek Goddess of Wisdom, was smitten with owls and held them in high regard. A genus of owls, Athene, is named for her. It includes the North American burrowing owl, Athene cunicularia. In 1994, ancient art was discovered adorning the walls of Chauvet Cave in France. Some of this work depicts owls, and was created over 30,000 years ago. Effigy pipes depicting barred owls – a common Ohio species – created by Hopewell Indians date to around 100 B.C. and have been found in Tremper Mound in southern Ohio.<br /><br />A local owl aficionado is Blake Mathys, a biology professor at Ohio Dominican University. He established the <a href="https://www.ohiodominican.edu/academics/owlproject.html">Central Ohio Owl Project (COOP)</a> in the fall of 2020. I wrote about COOP and its goals in a February 7, 2021 column. One of his major study targets is one of our most charismatic little hooters, the northern saw-whet owl.<br /><br />Mathys, who lives in Union County, bands saw-whet owls on his property each fall. A string of mist nets is placed in a wooded opening, and saw-whet calls are broadcast from a nearby speaker. Owls investigating the calls fly into the nets and become entangled. The soft mesh causes no harm, and captured birds are quickly extracted.<br /><br />Netted owls are taken to the “lab,” a nearby table where each bird is measured, weighed and feather details are studied to determine age. The latter process involves shining ultraviolet light on the owl’s underwings. Newer feathers are infused with a compound known as porphyrin, which glows fluorescent pink under UV light. With experience, the bander can accurately assess the bird’s age by its pinkness or lack thereof.<br /><br />Perhaps most importantly, a lightweight aluminum band is placed on a leg. The band sports a unique number and allows positive identification if the bird is recaptured. An enormous amount of information regarding bird migration, seasonal movements and longevity has been amassed by banding. In the case of northern saw-whet owls, most of what we know is the result of efforts by banders such as Mathys.<br /><br />I was fortunate to be part of an assemblage that visited Mathys’ banding operation on the night of November 11. A nip was in the air as darkness fell, and it was downright chilly when we made the first net check. Nothing. Brief disappointment ensued but that was offset by optimism for upcoming net runs. Sure enough, we were elated to see two saw-whet owls in the nets on the second check.<br /><br />Both birds turned out to be hatch-year females. They would have been born in spring or early summer, and probably WAY north of where they were caught. The vast majority of saw-whet owls breed in northern forests across Canada and the northern states, from Alaska to New England. There are only two recent Ohio nesting records, from Erie and Huron counties along Lake Erie. At one time, the owl was a more frequent nester in northern Ohio.<br /><br />Most of the people present this night had never seen one of the wee owls and were thoroughly enchanted. A big one – females are larger – weighs around 100 grams, or the same as 15 quarters. They measure but 8 inches in length, with a wingspan of a foot and half. In contrast, our largest owl is the great horned owl, and it tapes out at nearly 2 feet in length with a 4-foot wingspan and body weight of 3 pounds.<br /><br />Northern saw-whet owls are incredible nocturnal hunting machines. Their eyes constitute nearly 5% of the body mass and have many more cones than human eyes. This allows them to see in darkness with amazing accuracy. Large offset ears permit fine-tuned sound triangulation. Woe to the scurrying rodent, even if it’s under vegetation. Flight feathers edged with comb-like extensions allow for silent flight, and once a pounce is made, the owl seizes its victim with powerful talons from which escape is impossible. I would note that the first thing someone usually says upon clapping eyes on a saw-whet owl is “cute”. Many mice and voles would strongly disagree.<br /><br />Blake Mathys has captured nine saw-whets this fall, and more will undoubtedly follow. Last fall he caught a remarkable 34 birds. Kelly Williams, a bander working with Tom Bartlett on Kelleys Island, caught 16 owls on the same night we were out. Bartlett has captured over one thousand in his decades of banding on the Lake Erie Island, demonstrating that the owls migrate across the great lake.<br /><br />The work of Mathys, Bartlett, Williams, Bob Placier (who bands saw-whets in Vinton County) and others have illuminated the frequency of this owl. During migratory periods, and probably in winter, the little owl is probably the most common owl of the seven (eight, if snowy owls are present) species in Ohio.<br /><br /><i>Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at <a href="http://jimmccormac.blogspot.com/">www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com</a>.</i> Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-52711512644819776172023-11-13T11:56:00.002-05:002023-11-13T11:56:19.189-05:00Eastern Screech-Owl in dark woods<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXv61qSh5HVoh4GdXj9pWadxC4UJ_84yUuwISMMQbupWFwImd-tqSpvfqgXwM_l-90oNP_h_PXyB7MlPEj3UMABL_E5bkyTOf-ApCONJg7W05PnzWO5Z3jRDfUgd7wKHzLu_LxKPgI6eW6ZdcSpGszO7QlFZLdrJuFDTlBJKfh6fx3GGCL0sgyu73Cpqo/s912/Eastern%20Screech-Owl,%20Megascops%20asio,%20Blake%20Mathys%20property,%20Union%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2011,%202023%20(1)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="912" data-original-width="722" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXv61qSh5HVoh4GdXj9pWadxC4UJ_84yUuwISMMQbupWFwImd-tqSpvfqgXwM_l-90oNP_h_PXyB7MlPEj3UMABL_E5bkyTOf-ApCONJg7W05PnzWO5Z3jRDfUgd7wKHzLu_LxKPgI6eW6ZdcSpGszO7QlFZLdrJuFDTlBJKfh6fx3GGCL0sgyu73Cpqo/w316-h400/Eastern%20Screech-Owl,%20Megascops%20asio,%20Blake%20Mathys%20property,%20Union%20County,%20Ohio,%20November%2011,%202023%20(1)%20copy.jpg" width="316" /></a></div>A gray morph (not "phase" as color forms are incorrectly often referred to as) Eastern Screech-Owl stares from its perch in an inky woods. Owl eyes, in comparison to human eyes, are proportionately enormous and in some species - including the next owl species that I'll post about - can make up 5% of the total mass of the owl. Owl eyes also have many more rods per cone, thus their eyes are far more efficient at detecting movement in dark conditions. The net result is eyes that are dozens of times better at harvesting light than human eyes.<p></p><p>Shauna Weyrauch, I and about 25 others had a great evening owling last Saturday night with Blake Mathys, an owl expert and bander in west-central Ohio. We observed or heard three owl species, including the one above, and another species which is quite special, and I'll write more on that one later.</p><p><b>PHOTO NOTE</b>: With highly nocturnal creatures such as owls and bats, it's better <b>NOT</b> to pop a bright flash in their faces. But light is certainly required, as even at the highest ISO setting and widest aperture it won't be possible to harvest adequate light for an exposure in extremely dark conditions. Blake spotted this owl - one of a pair that he knows well - with infrared glasses, and then we used a flashlight beam to illuminate the bird so that all could admire it. My experience with lighting screech-owls in this way is that it seems to bother the low-key birds little, and certainly doesn't have the blinding effect that the brilliant and sudden pop of light from a flash would have.</p><p>I have a cool device known as a <a href="https://neewer.com/products/on-camera-led-lights-66600043?variant=37973410185409&utm_campaign=gs-2021-05-20&utm_source=google&utm_medium=smart_campaign&gclid=Cj0KCQiAr8eqBhD3ARIsAIe-buMWJcBTpU2WQ8S43p8wM9bwINd5gW9CJKlJ1SycVyOCw5QoVU8Oo2kaAiiKEALw_wcB">Neewer CN-160</a> dimmable light panel. It mounts on the hotshoe of my camera and provides an adjustable and constant light source. I can put just enough light towards the subject to find focus and illuminate it enough for photos. To avoid turning the Neewer up to blinding light levels, I use a higher ISO (much as I dislike having to use high ISO settings, but there is a time and place for them). The settings for this image were ISO 6400, f/8, and 1/200 shutter speed. As we weren't especially close to the owl - maybe 20-25 feet - and I used a 100mm macro lens (on the camera for the primary subject of that evening), I also had to crop a fair bit. So, the graininess associated with a higher ISO is manifesting a bit, but it is still a usable image. And the owl was still there when we departed, no worse for the wear.</p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-69550516442039264122023-11-06T22:00:00.001-05:002023-11-06T22:01:10.671-05:00Nature: Ohio's Metzger Preserve harbors strange yet impressive rock formations<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOFaxwBN9jnJndFi3OeU4aT4l4crjwOGz4bWIA3mkG7hwDPsnSRInFChMCUTgQ9UgsNmCuwsVL6TQP-Vlk53fei01bAMNIDiptzQWebwkxM2GE1dzrpnnNIxUO3no0bhQ_Iy445ts0D8ydn5lZ1RrCKE87TLQHOKDac1MzXehiKdFNInM8ArKXL3ewes8/s2731/Metzger%20Preserve,%20Pickaway%20County,%20Ohio,%20October%2028,%202023%20(7)%20copy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1821" data-original-width="2731" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOFaxwBN9jnJndFi3OeU4aT4l4crjwOGz4bWIA3mkG7hwDPsnSRInFChMCUTgQ9UgsNmCuwsVL6TQP-Vlk53fei01bAMNIDiptzQWebwkxM2GE1dzrpnnNIxUO3no0bhQ_Iy445ts0D8ydn5lZ1RrCKE87TLQHOKDac1MzXehiKdFNInM8ArKXL3ewes8/w400-h266/Metzger%20Preserve,%20Pickaway%20County,%20Ohio,%20October%2028,%202023%20(7)%20copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Metzger Preserve harbors one of the state's greatest concentrations of the bizarre, round rock formations known as concretions/Jim McCormac</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Nature: Ohio's Metzger Preserve harbors strange yet impressive rock formations</b></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/lifestyle/nature-wildlife/2023/11/04/ohios-metzger-preserve-includes-concretions-rock-formations/71395895007/">Columbus Dispatch</a><br /><i>November 5, 2023</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>NATURE</b><br />Jim McCormac</div><br />The Pekowi were a band of the Shawnee tribe, one of five divisions of the once-great confederacy. The county just south of Franklin County derives its name from the Pekowi: Pickaway. Until nearly 1800, the Shawnee and other Native Americans reigned over the wildlands of the Ohio country. An especially famous Shawnee was Tecumseh, who was born circa 1768 near Chillicothe.<br /><br />At the time of Tecumseh’s birth, what would become Pickaway County was densely forested, the woodlands broken by a roughly 5-by-7-mile tract of prairie that bordered the Scioto River between present day Circleville and Chillicothe. It is known as the Pickaway Plains, but the prairie’s destruction is almost absolute. Less than a fraction of a percent remains.<br /><br />In the early 1770’s, a Christian missionary named David Jones ambled into the Pickaway Plains region, seeking converts. Such missionaries were often harbingers of doom for the indigenous peoples, and soon an avalanche of settlers followed. The bounty of timber was irresistible to the immigrants, and the first lumber mill, near present-day Williamsport, began service in 1812. More soon followed. Before long, the forest primeval had been largely cleared.<br /><br />An inventor named John Deere, who had fled his home state of Vermont to Illinois to dodge bankruptcy charges, wasted no time in his adopted state. In 1837, one year after his arrival, Deere launched his self-scouring steel plow which would forever alter the former forests and prairies of the Midwest and its nearly incalculable biodiversity.<br /><br />By the dawn of the 20th century, most of Pickaway County had been converted from forests, prairies, pothole wetlands and fens harboring a thousand native plants to monocultures of corn, soybeans and wheat. Only scattered shards of former habitats remain.<br /><br />In 2002, the Pickaway County Park District was created. For its first 15 years, the district operated on a shoestring budget, but in 2017 a levy to provide permanent funding for the park district was put before Pickaway County voters. They passed it with 55% of the vote. The district has not let the grass grow under its feet since, and is hard at work protecting Pickaway County natural gems.<br /><br />Pickaway County Parks purchased the 52-acre Metzger Preserve along Deer Creek in 2019. Deer Creek is one of central Ohio’s finest streams, and this acquisition helps protect its water quality and rare fishes. But the preserve also offers the public a window into a geological history that is far older than the region’s human history.<br /><br />On Oct. 28, I visited Metzger with Shauna Weyrauch, an Ohio State University professor and bobcat researcher. We weren’t looking for wildcats — they would have been common in Tecumseh’s time — but for a more easily found subject: rocks.<br /><br />Metzger Preserve harbors one of the state’s greatest concentrations of concretions: bizarre round rock formations that look like oversized bowling balls. Concretions were formed by a buildup of minerals congealing around a nucleus such as a fossil, bone fragment or crystal. Metzger’s concretions are composed of siderite, an iron carbonate. The stony oddities date to the Devonian, a period of the Paleozoic Era that began 419 million years ago and lasted for 60 million years. So strange is their appearance that concretions were once thought by some to be dinosaur eggs, or flotsam left by extraterrestrials.<br /><br />The concretions at Metzger Preserve are embedded in a deposit of Ohio Shale. Deer Creek has cut into this shale bank over the ages, eroding away the softer shale and liberating numerous concretions. The result is a fantastic, almost surreal streambed littered with what looks like castoff cannonballs. From afar, the rounded tops of the concretions resemble scores of turtle shells jutting from the water. Big specimens can be 8 feet in diameter.<br /><br />If you visit Metzger, be sure to go when Deer Creek’s water levels are low and the concretions are easily visible. Another recommended stop nearby is Calamus Swamp, one of very few glacial kettle lakes remaining in the region. It is owned by Columbus Audubon and features a boardwalk that traverses the 19-acre wetland.<br /><br />For more information on Metzger Preserve and Calamus Swamp, visit: <a href="https://columbusaudubon.org/">columbusaudubon.org</a> and <a href="https://pickawaycountyparks.org/">pickawaycountyparks.org</a><br /><br /><i>Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at<a href="http://www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com/">www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com</a>.</i>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-47162875240184437732023-11-02T15:52:00.000-04:002023-11-02T15:52:02.010-04:00Cardinal-flower, and the coming floral hiatus<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-44cwzYAF56x2NhatZwlMFLeQQsA3WTqsHspxgCoJG5Cjku0i_Q65F1WXitx-GZ53UvUdeOiAwxWvA2_n-nCK76rmdpaAZ-xwfkUa_yAC8uqcl89J_CwUiykgc_bdnN-uiZ9Mkyqi50Vy3Yb2tCTdaVSIPAgAqd2ECLO1LTOmsRKRdlARCJYtQWnPrs/s7262/Cardinal-flower,%20Lobelia%20cardinalis,%20Shawnee%20State%20Forest,%20Scioto%20County,%20Ohio,%20August%2025,%202023%20(1)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="7262" data-original-width="4856" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-44cwzYAF56x2NhatZwlMFLeQQsA3WTqsHspxgCoJG5Cjku0i_Q65F1WXitx-GZ53UvUdeOiAwxWvA2_n-nCK76rmdpaAZ-xwfkUa_yAC8uqcl89J_CwUiykgc_bdnN-uiZ9Mkyqi50Vy3Yb2tCTdaVSIPAgAqd2ECLO1LTOmsRKRdlARCJYtQWnPrs/w268-h400/Cardinal-flower,%20Lobelia%20cardinalis,%20Shawnee%20State%20Forest,%20Scioto%20County,%20Ohio,%20August%2025,%202023%20(1)%20copy.jpg" width="268" /></a></div>A brilliantly hued Cardinal-flower (<i>Lobelia cardinalis</i>), shot back on August 25, 2023. A floral hiatus now ensues, until the blooming of Skunk-cabbage at winter's end, at least in my part of the world. It got down to 29F last night, here in Worthington, Ohio. This Cardinal-flower was photographed in Scioto County, Ohio.<p></p><p><b>Photographic Note</b>: Reds in flowers can be tricky to expose properly (as can yellow). It's easy to overexpose them, and thus wash out the gorgeous hues that make red flowers so fetching. Depending on the conditions, I often underexpose a bit, maybe 1/3rd stop, sometimes more. Wind is also not the flower photographer's friend, and as I recall this was a mostly windless day. Thus, I shot from a tripod with a 2-second timer delay (so I am not touching and possible moving the camera at the time of exposure). I also have the camera (Canon R5) set to touch screen focus. I just touch the spot that I want to have as the focus point on the camera's back screen, and Voila! Two seconds later the camera fires, focused on the exact spot that I touched. I'm also partial to very open apertures when I feel that I can get away with them, as f/4 (in this case) creates such a beautifully blurred background (bokeh). f/4 to f/7.1 are favored flower apertures although I will frequently venture off that reservation. ISO, of course, is set very low - 200 in this case. For floral photography, shutter speed is largely irrelevant to me, especially if there is not movement on the subject's part. This image was shot at 1/25 but I have often shot flowers at speeds as low as several seconds.<br /> </p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-83309342746451307742023-10-29T22:01:00.005-04:002023-10-29T22:01:38.442-04:00Nature: "Tis the season to spot dark-eyed juncos in central Ohio<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ67UWhKqgIUG99vmHE1CmFLpjR9bkef8_C6EfGh5-JXG9IA77WFdRGZHKgjzhqMd8eDKA_ulf84f-iWRYbjGrsSzG6kFEpH6eg_SXq6fdcedRDvBu8A4uXbxS9cxXyuym6GphnzBX0zcj5aKfkT0-x2itpGtcEG9dGHMsI4qNcLDDwanMVxb_4tCVx48/s2664/A%20male%20dark-eyed%20junco%20snacks%20on%20poison%20ivy%20berries.%20Jim%20McCormac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2388" data-original-width="2664" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ67UWhKqgIUG99vmHE1CmFLpjR9bkef8_C6EfGh5-JXG9IA77WFdRGZHKgjzhqMd8eDKA_ulf84f-iWRYbjGrsSzG6kFEpH6eg_SXq6fdcedRDvBu8A4uXbxS9cxXyuym6GphnzBX0zcj5aKfkT0-x2itpGtcEG9dGHMsI4qNcLDDwanMVxb_4tCVx48/w400-h359/A%20male%20dark-eyed%20junco%20snacks%20on%20poison%20ivy%20berries.%20Jim%20McCormac.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A male dark-eyed junco snacks on poison ivy berries/Jim McCormac</i></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Nature: "Tis the season to spot dark-eyed juncos in central Ohio</b></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dispatch.com/story/lifestyle/nature-wildlife/2023/10/28/dark-eyed-juncos-spotted-in-central-ohio-during-fall-season/71312748007/">Columbus Dispatch</a><br /><i>October 29, 2023</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><b>NATURE</b><br />Jim McCormac<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">“…<i>there is not an individual in the Union who does not know the little Snow-bird</i>…”<br />− John James Audubon (1831)</div><br />I suspect the great naturalist and pioneer ornithologist was optimistic in his estimation of junco familiarity. His “snow-bird” is now formally known as the dark-eyed junco, and back in Audubon’s time, people were far more attuned to the environment. Many if not most people probably were acquainted with the jaunty slate-colored sparrows.<br /><br />Even today, with the popularity of bird feeding, lots of people know the junco. But in central Ohio, they’re primarily winter visitors. Juncos arrive on the first gusts of nippy fall winds from northern breeding grounds. I ran into my first dark-eyed juncos of fall just a few days ago, as nighttime temperatures began to dip towards the freezing mark.<br /><br />Unlike many of its sparrow brethren, which are skulkers and shrinking violets, dark-eyed juncos are extroverted and easily observed. Adult males are a rich dark slate color above, with snowy underbelly and a pink bill. Their white tail feathers are often flashed conspicuously. Females and juveniles are more muted and infused with brownish hues.<br /><br />There are plenty of dark-eyed juncos to see. The population, which breeds strictly in the U.S. and Canada, numbers about 630 million individuals, or about two juncos for every person. While juncos nest throughout the boreal forest of the northern U.S. and Canada, birds in northerly populations retreat southward in winter. These are the birds that we see at our feeders.<br /><br />Ohio lies at the southern limits of the junco’s breeding range, with isolated nesters in the extreme northeast, especially Geauga and Lake counties. A small population breeds in Mohican state forest. But if you receive juncos at your feeders, the likelihood is that they hail from remote northern forests.<br /><br />Over its vast North American range, the dark-eyed junco varies markedly in appearance. So much so that until 1973 it was divided into five species: gray-headed junco, Guadalupe junco, Oregon junco, slate-colored junco (our birds), and white-winged junco. Typical examples of each form are easily identified, but they all hybridize and produce fertile offspring, which is why the five were lumped into one species. The Oregon subspecies appears rarely but regularly in Ohio. Adults are recognizable by a black hood that contrasts with pinkish-brown flanks.<br /><br />If you feed birds, you’ll almost certainly attract juncos. The jaunty little sparrows usually feed on the ground, often flashing their bright white tail feathers. Many species of birds that are habitual ground-foragers have white outer tail feathers. One explanation is that it presents a false flag to bird-hunting raptors like Cooper’s and sharp-shinned hawks. The raptor fixates on the junco’s bright tail feathers, seizes those, and the junco escapes, sans tail. But tail feathers grow back, and the junco lives to see another day.<br /><br />The roughest of winter weather does not deter tough juncos. They essentially live in a sleeping bag of feathers, the dense down feathers shingled over by sturdy waterproof contour feathers. Juncos can stave off the coldest of Ohio temperatures. If snow covers food sources, they kick through it like little chickens to uncover the seeds.<br /><br />Come mid-March, dark-eyed juncos start their northward journey. By May, nearly all of them have moved north, leaving us with to deal with a five-month junco hiatus. Throw some seed out for the snowbirds, and enjoy them will you can.<br /><br /><i>Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first, third and fifth Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at <a href="http://jimmccormac.blogspot.com/">www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com</a>.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEb9QOrPqBsS8eDbem2TuMWWWA_ois6NuJuwIynZhTroSZN7_dyPmGec2dJqAMmM38QDFGTgoL02qarfgLBf8pCL52ClR0ARdQ_d153NVPoFHlz1y7sLnm2iOk1v7JV6D_08SgXwcDbbND3BP3yXXCNFhG-uAByMaZmBc9KA0IN6C0OIYEcfDjc3bsvU/s2672/A%20female%20dark-eyed%20junco,%20or%20snowbird.%20Jim%20McCormac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1880" data-original-width="2672" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEb9QOrPqBsS8eDbem2TuMWWWA_ois6NuJuwIynZhTroSZN7_dyPmGec2dJqAMmM38QDFGTgoL02qarfgLBf8pCL52ClR0ARdQ_d153NVPoFHlz1y7sLnm2iOk1v7JV6D_08SgXwcDbbND3BP3yXXCNFhG-uAByMaZmBc9KA0IN6C0OIYEcfDjc3bsvU/w400-h281/A%20female%20dark-eyed%20junco,%20or%20snowbird.%20Jim%20McCormac.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>A female dark-eyed junco, or snowbird/Jim McCormac</i></div><i><br /></i></div>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-9587982094964876482023-10-23T19:22:00.000-04:002023-10-23T19:22:31.979-04:00Fall colors<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAaD1rWsFcHLSVyWH0vdmCgMphVeGK38LsS-ohpkhXQTDhzQNyT3-uQuZ3DfwzXwdd3dtdr4ZSqqrEKPrnjN28bH4LnBjR5Wh621tjh2pQaSQ7kWZ07kS4gMlVBQ5wbQTG-WrtMjvMSQBpjFAVeZ1Ta4wAobU_8gtJZnXtxFZMTEN2VPaxS3lYjKdogNg/s2731/Fall%20colors,%20Edge%20of%20Appalachia%20Preserve,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20October%2021,%202023%20(14)%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2731" data-original-width="1821" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAaD1rWsFcHLSVyWH0vdmCgMphVeGK38LsS-ohpkhXQTDhzQNyT3-uQuZ3DfwzXwdd3dtdr4ZSqqrEKPrnjN28bH4LnBjR5Wh621tjh2pQaSQ7kWZ07kS4gMlVBQ5wbQTG-WrtMjvMSQBpjFAVeZ1Ta4wAobU_8gtJZnXtxFZMTEN2VPaxS3lYjKdogNg/w266-h400/Fall%20colors,%20Edge%20of%20Appalachia%20Preserve,%20Adams%20County,%20Ohio,%20October%2021,%202023%20(14)%20copy.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>The autumnal plumage of Sugar Maples (<i>Acer saccharum</i>), especially, enliven a backwoods Adams County lane. One of the great delights of living in the eastern deciduous forest region is the annual coloring of tree foliage. Ohio is a particularly good place to bear witness to this phenomenon, and especially so in the hill country of southern Ohio, where I made this shot yesterday.<p></p><p>Fall colors were not yet peak, and if high winds don't remove most of the leaves between now and then, I would say that next weekend should be prime time to observe fall leaf color, at least in central and southern Ohio.<br /></p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6072479063452233450.post-39582864179475258432023-10-19T17:40:00.001-04:002023-10-19T17:40:27.089-04:00Moth Talk: October 24, Columbus, Ohio. All are welcome!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgay3Lo2ZeVH7bhJ3m7T2ja7saGyri-XGLGH6XXJfxVGbeZ3tYxOzuXZ1dV9d7FgUjK6_H71c-j23QDN-khxDktAr7lWDybtk-z5rC4h81nBMdJtCpFq3NHul6UltRhNeChWmtPndKCeg8vadMScZutxOb3JtTxjzCfvie-daMm5uoc2hffpyIDS6s34/s844/Picture1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="843" data-original-width="844" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgay3Lo2ZeVH7bhJ3m7T2ja7saGyri-XGLGH6XXJfxVGbeZ3tYxOzuXZ1dV9d7FgUjK6_H71c-j23QDN-khxDktAr7lWDybtk-z5rC4h81nBMdJtCpFq3NHul6UltRhNeChWmtPndKCeg8vadMScZutxOb3JtTxjzCfvie-daMm5uoc2hffpyIDS6s34/w400-h400/Picture1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I'm giving a talk on the amazing world of moths for <a href="https://columbusaudubon.org/columbus-audubon-calendar-of-events/">Columbus Audubon</a> at the <a href="https://grange.audubon.org/">Grange Insurance Audubon Center</a>, hard on the banks of the Scioto River near downtown Columbus (Ohio), on Tuesday, October 24. Doors open at 6:30 pm, and the show gets on the road around 7 pm. It's free, and all are welcome. Just show up if you want to come.<p></p><p>This talk is loosely based on the new(ish) book <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Gardening-Moths-Regional-Jim-McCormac/dp/082142520X/ref=sr_1_1?crid=39CENER5MO29&keywords=gardening+for+moths+a+regional+guide&qid=1697751441&sprefix=gardening+for+mot%2Caps%2C97&sr=8-1">Gardening for Moths</a>, by Chelsea Gottfried and me. That book (hit the shelves in late March 2023) features a robust introduction that makes the case as to why moths are important. And that's mostly what I will do with this talk: build the case for the importance of moths and how they interplay with bats, birds, other animals, our native flora, and more. Our (mostly) nocturnal butterflies are fascinating on many levels, and do not get nearly the attention that they deserve.</p><p>This <a href="https://columbusaudubon.org/columbus-audubon-calendar-of-events/">LINK</a> has all of the details that you need. Would love to see you there!<br /> </p>Jim McCormachttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07444322057532066466noreply@blogger.com0