Snowy owls irrupt!

This winter is shaping up to be another decent-sized irruption of snowy owls in the Great Lakes region, and points east. We've had a few dozen reports here in Ohio - mostly along Lake Erie but a smattering well inland. Not all of which have made the birding networks. For instance, I heard about one that was seen at the main post office in Columbus. One wonders how many owls pass through undetected, or set up turf in remote agricultural country and never come to light.

Some owls do become celebrities, and this post is about one of those owls. On Thanksgiving day, a gorgeous snowy owl appeared at a farm in Holmes County, and has been there ever since. I finally made the pilgrimage last Monday, and photos from that excursion follow.

The family that owns the farm has been exceedingly gracious to visiting birders. Even their signs reminding people to stay out of the fenced fields are very nice, and prefaced with a big WELCOME. At least 700 people have visited thus far, and unfortunately with the crowds come a few people who need such reminders.

A couple of milk cows playfully butt heads. Animals such as this are one reason why it isn't a good idea to mess around with gates, fences, and entering fields. No one wants a renegade Elsie escaping the pasture.

The celebrity owl perches high atop the peak of the largest barn on the property. In a case of strange bedfellows, it shares space with a flock of house sparrows. What the owl thought of the sparrows remains unknown, but they seemed rather excited by the presence of the massive white bird.

I arrived at the site not long after sunup, and my original intent was to spend 3-4 hours. That ultimately stretched to 7.5 hours. Once again, I was drawn in by the allure of these fascinating Arctic predators, and this was an outstanding opportunity to observe one at fairly close range, and watch its behavior.

The owl nestles in atop a feed silo - a favored resting spot. As I was driving in on the adjacent county road, I spotted the owl probably a third-mile off, sitting on the ground in the field behind the feed silos. I pulled up to the designated parking area beside a long chicken coop, hopped out and began prepping my camera gear. While I was doing that, the big owl silently swooped in and alit on the silo, only 100 feet or so away. And there he sat, for much of the day.

Snowy owls are largely nocturnal, like our other owls, and spend lengthy periods sitting in one spot during the day. They will hunt diurnally if an opportunity arises, though, and at one point it spotted a meadow vole at an incredible distance. When one of these owls spots prey, you'll know. It'll extend its neck and stand nearly upright, eyes focused like laser beams on some distant object. It then launches itself, and speeds directly towards the victim with impressive rapidity. As it nears the hapless rodent, the huge snowshoe-like feet and rapier talons are thrust forward and the owl will either snatch it up without stopping, or pounce and land on the prey.

I suppose many would find observing one owl for 7.5 hours tedious, if not downright boring, and I did outlast all of the some 30 people who stopped by that day. I would have stayed even longer, if time permitted. Like many snowy owls, this animal was utterly unconcerned about the presence of people, or any of the other activities associated with the running of a large farm. Thus, it was a great opportunity to watch and learn more of its behavior. Here, the owl strikes an amusing pose while preening. Note the massive size of its feet. Occasionally  he (this is a juvenile, and presumably a male) would briefly doze, eyes hooding and mostly shut, but for the most part it kept an eye on its surroundings.

As far as the people fawning over him, the owl paid us nearly no mind. After the first wave of visitors brought a few incautious interlopers invading spaces they shouldn't have, the landowner wisely established viewing areas, and that's where everyone remained. Nonetheless, we would have been quite obvious to him, but the owl didn't care. There are probably a few reasons for its lack of interest in us. One, it hails from northern Arctic regions that are largely beyond the occupied zone of Homo sapiens. It doesn't know what we are, especially a youngster such as this, that was born only last summer. Also, predators such as this do not waste much time on idle pursuits or focus attention on things that are of no use to them. And we are of no use to it. People, at least in this situation, do not represent potential food items, nor threats, thus we are not worthy of notice. We by and large do not exist to the owl.

The utterly blasé attitude towards people observers was striking. The bird's magnificent indifference to the lowly bipeds was grand to watch. At one point, someone made a comment to the effect of "why won't it look at us?". About the only reply I could offer is "because we are less than nothing to it."

During my time, the owl only made a few flights, mostly short hops between the silos and barn. But I was ready for him when he did move. While I did a lot of photographic work with a tripod-mounted telephoto, I kept a Canon 7D II and 300mm f/4 lens around my shoulder and ready for action. This is a great combo for in-flight shots, and that's what I used for this one.

All of us who have visited owe a debt of gratitude to Mr. Wengerd, the property owner. He and his family have been exceedingly gracious in not only tolerating, but welcoming, an invasion of some 700 owl-enthusiasts thus far. I got the chance to talk with him for a while, and he seems thrilled not only with the owl and its presence, but that so many people are taking delight in seeing the rare Arctic visitor.

I would also note that the owl has found a wonderful landlord, and that's why it is staying around. This is an Amish farm, and as such the land management practices are far more eco-friendly than most farming operations are these days. The meadows and fallow fields contain a nice diversity of various plants - they aren't plowed to bare soil or corn stubble as so many farms are right now. Thus, the fields are great habitat for meadow voles, those plump little mammalian sausages with legs, and the fields on the Wengerd farm produce a nice supply of these rodents. The 50-gram voles approximate the lemmings that are a staple of the snowy owl in its Arctic haunts, and when they come down to this latitude, voles become an important dietary component in some areas.

Epic Green Lawn Cemetery tour!

A month or so ago, I visited Columbus's famous Green Lawn Cemetery with cemetery board member Randy Rogers. Our main mission was to look at some of the massive old trees that are harbored in the cemetery. I wanted to write one of my Columbus Dispatch columns about the cemetery's ancient timber, and did so RIGHT HERE.

As I penned the column, the thought occurred that some people might like the opportunity to visit the cemetery in the company of guides who know the nooks and crannies of the sprawling 360-acre park/cemetery. So, I messaged Randy and he agreed that this was a good idea, and would co-lead the excursion with me. Excellent news, as I don't think anyone is as well rounded in their knowledge of the cemetery - its residents and human history, trees, and wildlife - as is Randy. So, I slipped a note into the column about the field trip, and that any and all were welcome.

Last Saturday was the day for the trip. Any interested parties were to convene at the administration building near the entrance, at 10 am. I ended up meeting friends Liz and Jamie Taylor at 9 am, to do some hunting for crossbills and other avian fare. About 10 till 10, I remarked that I'd better get to the meeting spot, to see if anyone showed up for our scheduled field trip.

And show up they did...

Our group, probably nearly 200 strong (and that wasn't everyone!), poses by the 313 year old white oak that is the oldest tree in Green Lawn Cemetery and was featured in my Dispatch column. We started here, to ensure that everyone got ample opportunity to commune with this spectacular plant.

As I neared the rendezvous point, I was stunned to see lines of cars everywhere and an enormous crowd of people. It was impossible to tally everyone, especially as Randy and I had the formidable task of gathering everyone into a cohesive group and shepherding them about. There may have been 250+ at the outset.

In spite of the crowd size, things worked out quite well and we enjoyed a nearly 2.5 hour foray through the cemetery, seeing many of the highlights.

Interesting wildlife, such as this striped skunk, even put in an appearance. At one point, a subadult bald eagle flew right over out large group, and at another point a young Cooper's hawk put on a show for everyone. Interspersed were lots of history highlights - Green Lawn is home to many famous individuals, including five governors, numerous Columbus luminaries, James Thurber, and many others. Dr. Bernard Master - a former cemetery board member and major world birder - was also along, and contributed great info about the cemetery's history and notable residents, such as Thomas Blakiston.

Thanks to everyone who attended. Maybe we can do it again next year!

Nature: Calliope hummingbird excites birdwatchers in central Ohio

A calliope hummingbird in Delaware County/Jim McCormac

Columbus Dispatch

December 3, 2017

NATURE
Jim McCormac

The most famous bird in Ohio right now is a tiny puffball that weighs little more than a penny. Nearly 650 visitors from at least nine states have fawned over the wayward visitor. The tiny bird even has its own Facebook page (with hundreds of “likes”).

This avian notable is a calliope hummingbird, and it is only the second one to appear in Ohio. The first was in 2002, in Chillicothe, and both birds are among very few records east of the Mississippi River.

A calliope hummingbird in Ohio is decidedly off-track. The species breeds in mountainous regions from British Columbia to Washington, Oregon, Idaho and nearby states. These sprites undertake an incredible migration proportionate to their size. Most of the population winters in southwestern Mexico. Some birds probably migrate nearly 6,000 miles annually.

Only the familiar ruby-throated hummingbird regularly shows up and breeds in Ohio. Most ruby-throats have left for tropical climes by mid-October. Any hummingbird seen after that warrants scrutiny.

Thus, when Delaware County homeowner and birder Tania Perry spotted a hummingbird in her yard in late October, she knew it might be something unusual. Identification of immature or female hummingbirds is often not straightforward, but it didn’t take long to secure excellent documentary photographs.

From the images, hummingbird expert Allen Chartier was able to confirm the bird as a hatch-year male calliope hummingbird.

Tania and her husband, Corey, knew the birder interest would be enormous if the bird’s presence was made public. Scores of people would want to see a major rarity such as this.

After consultation with some longtime birders, the Perrys made the decision to allow all comers. As noted above, come they did. I’ve seen many backyard rarities over the years, but few situations that drew as many people, or were as well-managed.

The Perrys braced their neighbors for an onslaught of unfamiliar visitors. They flagged appropriate parking areas and established visiting hours. Straw was cast on areas of foot traffic to protect the lawn. A viewing gallery was established, and feeders were placed in sites offering the best views.

Finally, a log book of visitors tracked the names, locations and comments of the hummingbird’s legions of fans. Imagine having nearly 700 visitors to your house over a span of two weeks. Yet the circus was managed with minimum disruption to the quiet rural neighborhood on a dead-end road. After a two-week viewing window, visitation was ended, but by then nearly everyone who wanted to had seen the bird.

Despite being the smallest breeding bird in North America, calliope hummingbirds are tough. As I write this, last Sunday, the bird is still present. It has endured nighttime temperatures into the 20s on a number of occasions.

While the sugar-water feeders provide a major source of energy for the hummingbird, it also catches lots of tiny insects, from which it gets necessary protein. Probably, once conditions get too cold for consistent insect activity, the bird will move on.

In 1985, the first vagrant hummingbird was detected in Ohio. The rufous hummingbird, a western species, has become annual, with dozens of records to date. Including the calliope, four other species have appeared — three of them westerners and one tropical. This pattern of increasing vagrancy holds true throughout eastern North America.

No one knows exactly what causes the spike in wayward hummers, but the reasons are undoubtedly multifaceted. Warming mean temperatures, a proliferation of feeders, increases in ornamental flowers and large-scale habitat changes probably all play a role.

Incredible aeronauts that they are, hummingbirds can rapidly exploit new opportunities.

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 www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

Photography workshops and expeditions 2018!

A Baltimore oriole is nicely accentuated by the flowers of a chokecherry, Prunus virginiana.

I am pleased to announce that master photographer Debbie DiCarlo and I are partnering to present a series of field-based photography workshops in 2018. Nearly all of the details have been settled, and you can see the offerings and details RIGHT HERE.

Both Debbie and I have extensive experience with helping others to improve their photography, and very much enjoy working with photographers of all levels. We each bring different skill sets to the table; Debbie is one of the premier landscape and night sky photographers, and plenty of evidence of her skills can be seen at her website, RIGHT HERE. I tend to specialize more in species-specific photography, but certainly cross-pollinate my work with forays into about every photographic facet, as does Debbie.

A colorful carpet of blue-eyed mary, Collinsia verna.

These workshops  focus on Nature and its many facets: spring wildflowers, butterflies, waterfalls, night skies and other landscapes, mammals, birds - nothing is out of bounds even though each trip has a focus. Each workshop ventures to places that Debbie, I, or both of us are intimately familiar with, so we can lead participants to the best hotspots and maximize our time afield.

A stunning rock formation in the Hocking Hills.

One thing is for certain when it comes to practicing the craft of natural history photography: The more one knows about nature, the better the nature photographer they will become. So, not only will we learn to better our photographic skills, we will also learn loads about natural history. We will attach names to nearly all of our subjects - stump me if you can :-) - and learn more about the subtleties of habitats, where to best find certain targets, the sounds of nature, and habits of animals.

A western Ohio prairie in its full midsummer glory.

We've given a lot of thought and planning to the details of each trip, to ensure maximum bang for the buck. We also will strive to do our best to make these workshops FUN! After all, that's why most of us pursue photography - it's an enjoyable and rewarding respite from the daily routine. Our photos can also serve to entice others to take an interest in the natural world, thus imbuing our work with a higher purpose.

Cameras are complex mechanical and electronic organisms, and it's tough to learn how to take full advantage of all the features that they offer. Yet with a bit of coaching, one's photographs can improve tremendously with the same amount of time and effort. Mentoring can also be extremely useful in learning to "see" both Nature's smallest details, and the epic scope of big landscapes.

Debbie and I love working with photographers of all levels, especially newer practitioners. Group sizes will be small, to ensure all participants see and photograph everything, and so that we can work easily with everyone.

For complete workshop details, and to register, GO HERE. And please pass the word!

A ruby-throated hummingbird taps nectar from a statuesque royal catchfly, Silene regia. Hummingbirds are the primary pollinators of this spectacular prairie plant.

Beaver Valley Christmas Bird Count: December 16

Your narrator's car - several years back - sits along a rarely traveled lane in rural Jackson County, Ohio. I was searching for birds during the Beaver Valley Christmas Bird Count (CBC). This census, which is part of the National Audubon Society's massive effort to conduct winter bird surveys from roughly mid-December through early January, is one of several dozen such counts in Ohio. And it is one of the more interesting ones, as the Beaver circle is sparsely populated, and contains a diversity of habitats.

This year's Beaver CBC falls on Saturday, December 16 and you are invited. If you are interested in joining one of the teams, please send me an email: jimmccormac35 AT gmail.com.

Below is a (somewhat crude) map of the count circle:

Click to expand image

We nearly always find interesting species, especially half-hardy birds like pine warbler, Wilson's snipe, eastern phoebe, gray catbird, chipping sparrow, and more. In general, the count circle is a birdy place and it's a fun area to spend a day birding.

Jackson Lake, one of the count's water features. We always conduct the count as early as possible within the CBC time frame, to maximize the chance of lingering migrants, and to better ensure unfrozen water.

Again, if you'd like to help, just send me an email and we'll put you on the team.

Nature: Green Lawn Cemetery’s majestic old trees leave lasting impression

Randy Rogers provides scale for the Green Lawn Cemetery tree estimated to be about 313 years old

Columbus Dispatch

November 19, 2017

NATURE
Jim McCormac

A century before Ohio became a state, a white oak acorn fell on gravelly terrain in what’s now the southwest side of Columbus. The following year, 1704, the fruit sprouted and a seedling arose.

That year, the first regular newspaper in the thirteen colonies was printed: the Boston News-Letter. One hundred sixty-seven years would elapse before the first edition of The Dispatch appeared.

Seven decades after the oak’s emergence, Americans, chafing under British rule, would fight for independence. By the time the Revolutionary War broke out, the acorn had matured into a large oak.

When the acorn sprouted in 1704, Ohio was pure wilderness. The city of Columbus’ predecessor, Franklinton, would not be platted until 93 years later, and it was 15 more until the “Borough of Columbus” was established.

This oak still stands, aged an estimated 313 years and witness to extraordinary change. Its gnarled, massive boughs stretch crazily from an elephantine trunk, the upper branches scraping the sky. The botanical Methuselah is one of the oldest trees in the state.

Fortunately for it and neighboring old-growth trees, Green Lawn Cemetery’s sprawling 360 acres includes them. Ohio’s second-largest cemetery was opened in 1849.

Burial grounds are sacred places, not subject to clear-cutting. So, beneficiaries of incidental conservation, the big timber was spared the ax: Twenty-seven other oaks exceed 200 years of age, and over 90 more are centenarians.

Because of its scores of huge trees, Green Lawn also serves as an arboretum. The cemetery has long been known for its wildlife value and as a birding Mecca. The originator of this column, Edward S. Thomas, wrote many pieces about the birds he found here. Thomas’ final resting place is near the fabled pond in the cemetery’s midst.

I’ve been visiting the cemetery since I was a kid and have made probably hundreds of trips over the years. Like many others, I’ve got lots of good memories of seeing great birds there, including numerous rare species.

Because of Green Lawn’s dual identity as a park and because of the numerous wildlife-watchers it draws, conservationists have long had a role on the cemetery board. Local physician and birder nonpareil Bernard Master began this tradition in 1995, serving for six years.

I replaced Bernie in 2000 and was on the board for 12 years. Randy Rogers followed me in 2011 and has been a dynamo, often spending 40 hours a week on cemetery business.

Rogers and I met at the cemetery on a recent frosty fall day and inspected the ancient oak and other mammoth trees. Our foray also produced numerous intriguing nuggets of human history. Residents include a who’s who of famous Ohioans.

Five governors are interred at Green Lawn, as is James Thurber, Eddie Rickenbacker, industrialist Samuel Bush (President George H.W. Bush’s grandfather), architect Frank Packard and many other notables.

A trip through Green Lawn Cemetery is always interesting. Its giant trees provide spectacle, and peppered throughout are historical points of interest courtesy of the many famous residents. Visitation is encouraged. Information can be found at www.greenlawncemetery.org.

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 www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

Further afield
• Jim McCormac and Green Lawn board member Randy Rogers will lead a trip through the cemetery on Dec. 2. They’ll visit the largest, oldest trees and various points of human interest. All are welcome. Meet at 10 a.m. at the administration building just inside the gates at 1000 Greenlawn Ave.

Sandhill cranes, in two photos

Pulaski County, Indiana, a few weeks ago...