An extremely hardy caterpillar

Last night showed great promise for a big salamander run. It rained all day, and temperatures crept up into the low 50's. We haven't had a good salamander movement around here as of yet, and I thought last night would be the magical night. My longtime favorite local haunts to seek salamanders is over in the Bellefontaine area west of Columbus. So it was there I headed, stopping by to pick up Bellefontainite and amphibian enthusiast Cheryl Erwin.

 

March is an incredibly volatile and unpredictable month weatherwise, and last night's sudden shift in conditions bore that out. When I left Columbus, the rain had quit and the ground was soaked - perfect for migrating salamanders. The temperature was 50 degrees - also ideal. Forty-five minutes later, as I entered the Bellefontaine area, the temp had nosedived to 42, which is too cool for big salamander movements. Nonetheless, we trolled some roads anyway, and found a couple of the bizarre unisexual hybrid salamanders - more on those HERE - two Red-spotted Newts, and the prize of the evening, a whopping big Tiger Salamander.

 

But it was a caterpillar that captured my imagination. Who woulda thunk it? I head out on a cold wet evening to look for hypothermia-defying amphibians, and return with material for a blog on caterpillars.

 

Up until last night, my personal best cold weather caterpillar was this animal, a Woolly-bear, Pyrrharctia isabella, the larva of the Isabella Tiger Moth. The heavily bristled Woolly-bears are well known for cold weather wandering, and I made this photo on December 26 when the temperature was 42 degrees and a brisk wind was blowing. The caterpillar was trucking right along. Sorry for the less than stellar photo; I saw it from the car while clipping along at a good rate, and barely had time to jump out and snap this one image.

Well, I was much more surprised to see this seemingly uninsulated specimen crossing the road last night. The temperature at the time was 42 degrees, tying the aforementioned Woolly-bear, but everything was wet. None of this fazed the caterpillar, which was moving quite well. I knew it was some sort of cutworm, and it didn't take long to determine its identity as the larva of the Large Yellow Underwing, Noctua pronuba.

I didn't have a photo of a live adult Large Yellow Underwing, but I did have this specimen photo. It shows the features of this handsome moth well enough. Noctua pronuba is not a native; it is indigenous to much of Eurasia, and was introduced to North America at Novia Scotia, Canada in 1979 and has since spread like wildfire. It is now locally abundant in many areas. Demonstrating the extreme mobility of flighted insects, this moth has made it all of the way to Alaska and California.

The caterpillars are well known for their cold hardiness, and if you see a decent sized plain jane cutworm running around in temperatures less than 50 degrees during winter thaws, it is almost certain to be this one.

Zanesville's Yellow Cardinal, revisited

Last Friday, I found myself heading off east on Interstate 70, car-surfing a six hour straight line all the way to York, Pennsylvania. A tedious drive indeed, but one that would bring me into close proximity to Tom Ruggles' back yard in Zanesville, Ohio. Tom's been hosting a most special visitor for half a decade; an animal that I really wanted to see.

Tom was good enough to allow me to stop by on my way to PA, and I did. This is a quick Droid snapshot of their backyard, a woody place indeed. Tom has created a virtual arboretum, and as we shall see, it doubles as a cageless aviary.

We were joined by Susan Nash, a local birder who also wanted to see Tom's special feathered guest. Susan is an artist, and in one those cool coincidences, the Ruggles' happened to have one of her works hanging on the wall by the front door. Take a virtual trip to her gallery, Studio 202, HERE.

I was clicking off photos rapidfire in burst mode, as subjects galore presented themselves nearly at arm's length at the battery of feeders on the back deck. Carolina Chickadees were numerous.

One of the feeder bullies, a Red-bellied Woodpecker.

There was a decent influx of Pine Siskins this winter, and a flock was hanging out in Tom's conifers. Nice looking specimens such as this would make periodic trips to the thistle feeders.

Another boreal irruptive that swamped the landscape this winter is the Red-breasted Nuthatch, and at least four individuals were constantly in and out of the feeders.

White-breasted Nuthatches were also common. Note the greatly elongated hind toe on this animal, all the better for bark climbing headfirst.

This was our target, however, and what an incredible bird! It's "just" a Northern Cardinal, but it's obviously not just any old cardinal. This male exhibits a genetic anomaly known as xanthochroism. The "yellowbird" is a seasoned veteran, having frequented the Ruggles' feeders for five years. I've written about the bird before, who has been dubbed Jeffrey by their grandchildren, HERE and HERE.

I've wanted to lay eyes on this cardinal since Tom first shared photos of it, and made an attempt last year. After waiting and watching for three hours, I gave up, a defeated man. Jeffrey does not constantly hang at the feeders. He is quite intermittent in his visits, and usually doesn't stay long. However, we scored quickly this day - he popped in just minutes after my arrival and returned once or twice. All told, he wasn't there long though, and I didn't have the opportunity to leisurely click off lots of shots.

A question that anyone would ask: Why is this normally brilliant scarlet bird yellow? I'll excerpt what I wrote about xanthochroism from a prior post:

This cardinal is exhibiting a condition known as xanthochroism, a genetic anomaly that causes an excess of yellow pigments to show through. It may be caused by darker pigments being suppressed, thus permitting less dominant colorations to shine through.
If we are to get a bit propeller-headed here, the bright red plumage of Northern Cardinals is caused by at least nine different carotenoid pigments. Knock one or some of them out of whack, and we can end up with the bird in the photo or something similar. In my previous post, there is a (bad) photo of a heavily leucistic Red-tailed Hawk. That bird is displaying the effects of yet another genetic anomaly, but one that causes the individual to appear much whiter or paler than normal.

Carotenoids occur in plants and some animals, and birds uptake them as part of their natural diet. It's possible that xanthochroic individuals, like Tom's cardinal, result from dietary deficiencies. A well-known example of the role of carotenoids and bird coloration involves flamingos. If deprived of the blue-green algae and brine shrimp that are rich in beta carotenes that gives them their bright pink plumage, the birds become pale and whitish. By providing captive flamingos with a compound called canthaxanthin, the rich pink coloration can be restored.

Xanthochroism has been documented in a number of bird species, in addition to Northern Cardinals, including: House Finch, Cape May Warbler, Scarlet Tanager, and Red-bellied Woodpecker.

Another question that begs an answer: Does Jeffrey successfully manage to attract a mate and participate in the production of offspring? We don't know. Tom watches for signs of a mate and pair bonding each year, but hasn't yet seen anything. However, Jeffrey seems quite furtive and apparently spends much of his time elsewhere, so it may be hard to pin down his relationship status.

The oldest documented wild Northern Cardinal reached nearly 17 years of age. This fine golden specimen is already at least five years old. With luck, it will live for many more years, delighting all who are fortunate enough to see it.

Owl pellet, dissected

A short while back, on my birthday as fate would have it, I wrote about this drowsy female Barn Owl. She had taken up an intermittent roost site in a Knox County barn. You can see that post HERE.

While the owl may be drowsy in this photo, she becomes a winged tiger come nightfall, and we've got the pellets to prove it. Read on...

These are Barn Owl pellets. The pellets in this photo are not from the bird in the previous photo; I made this image some years back courtesy of a bird in Jackson County. No matter, the protagonist of this post created pellets just as robust as these. If you scan the aforementioned post you'll some pictures of her handiwork.

The production of an owl pellet is a very necessary bodily function for the owl, but if we humans were to do the same act we would be considered crass indeed. Downright Neanderthal, in fact. Basically, an owl pellet is a giant furball, upchucked via the mouth in the manner of a cat. Much bobbing and wretching can accompany the expulsion of a pellet, but I'm sure the owl feels 10x better afterwards. The contents of a pellet are the indigestible parts of its victims: bone and fur.

Photo: Carma Jo Kauffman

You can only imagine my delight when Carma Jo Kauffman sent along this photo. Had it only been my birthday. In all seriousness, I find this photo utterly cool, and am glad that Carma Jo - sometimes tender of the owl - allowed me to share it with you. On my visit, I snatched a few pellets from the barn floor and did a quick and dirty dissection so that she could see the contents, along with a brief lecture on why owl pellets are made.

Carma Jo took owl pellet dissection many steps further, and she and I believe one of her daughters painstaking extracted and sorted the contents of this pellet. Yes, pellet - everything that you see in this photo was removed from just ONE owl pellet. She's even neatly numbered things - those are seven (7), count 'em, skulls! Various and sundry other underpinnings that create the superstructure of a mouse or vole are scattered about. No wonder these owls gag and heave to expel these pellets!

I am not an adept when it comes to identifying skulls and bones that were festering in owl pellets, but I know the parts in Carma Jo's pellet were from small rodents. The primary victim was probably the hapless beast hanging here, the Meadow Vole, Microtus pennsylvanicus. Do yourself a favor: never come back as a vole. Everyone wants to eat you, and the end will not be pretty. Very few voles, I suspect, die of old age. The animal in this photo was harvested by a Northern Shrike, which unceremoniously hung it in this autumn-olive bush. We saw almost the whole thing go down, and it was cool! The shrike, or butcherbird, came lumbering in toting the vole, disappeared into the shrubs, and as soon as the bird left we dashed in to inspect the kill. Later, the shrike, which is essentially a feathered Vlad the Impaler, would have returned and torn the cute little critter apart, gobbling down the chunks.

If a vole could choose its executioner, it would probably opt for the Barn Owl. The end would come quick, with an unseen and unheard WHACK and a fast bite to sever the base of the spinal cord. Hours later, our vole would come back - as a regurgitated compact mass of fur and bones.

This is a White-footed Mouse, Peromyscus leucopus, another of Nature's furry sausages with legs. They are also probably routine victims of Barn Owls. Rodents such as these are good at what they do, which is eat and reproduce. Thanks to voles, mice and their ilk, we have spectacular predators such as Barn Owls to ooh and ahh over.

Two Excellent Events

If you want to learn more about interesting animals such as the Eastern Box Turtle, consider attending the upcoming Wildlife Diversity Conference. This conference is major in every way, attracting around 900 attendees, and it always sports an interesting roster of speakers and subjects. Topics covered this year include the aforementioned box turtle, Ohio's breeding birds, ticks, the Ohio Certified Volunteer Naturalist Program, bats, and much more.

The Wildlife Diversity Conference rapidly approaches - March 13, and it's in Columbus at the Aladdin Shriner's Complex at 3850 Stelzer Road. Sorry, I should have been out there with a plug for this some time ago. Anyway, you can register online, or just show up - walk-ins are quite welcome. All of the details and registration info are RIGHT HERE.

Everyone loves singing insects such as the "counting katydid", above, which is more appropriately known as the Broad-winged Bush Katydid. If you want to learn more about Nature's most ancient animal soundmakers, you'll definitely want to attend the March 11 meeting of the Columbus Natural History Society. Lisa Rainsong will give a fascinating presentation entitled Connecting People to Nature's First Musicians. Lisa is an authority on the Orthoptera: crickets, coneheads, katydids, trigs and the rest of the six-legged songsters. Her outstanding blog is HERE. Admission is free, and all of the details are RIGHT HERE.

Adam Grimm: Ohio Wetlands Habitat Stamp winner!

Ohioan Adam Grimm, artist and conservationist, has won the Ohio Wetland Habitat Stamp competition with his rendering of a Northern Pintail. Each year, about two dozen artists from far and wide vie for the honor of having their artwork featured on this stamp, which was introduced in 1982. Competition for top honors is fierce, and the winning entry is selected by a team of bird-savvy judges.

Adam, who hails from Elyria, Ohio but now makes his home in North Dakota, burst to prominence in 1999, when his beautiful painting of a Mottled Duck won the Federal Duck Stamp competition. That honor put him squarely in the rarified atmosphere of a relative handful of wildlife artists who have had their work grace the Migratory Bird Hunting and Conservation Stamp, which had its inception in 1934 and has since raised over $750 million for habitat acquisition. Chances are great that if you are a birder, you've ogled interesting birds on property purchased with Duck Stamp dollars.

Not one to forget the conservation roots of the Duck Stamp, Adam plowed some of his winnings into his home state's lone federal refuge, the Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge along Lake Erie. If you've birded that area much, you've probably seen this sign marking a beautiful tall grass prairie. It was Adam's generosity that made its restoration possible, and now we can enjoy Bobolinks, Sedge Wrens, and Upland Sandpipers in and around this prairie. Coincidentally, over 90% of the funds to purchase Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge came from Duck Stamp dollars. You can buy a Duck Stamp HERE.

Back in 2007 or thereabouts, the fledgling Ohio Ornithological Society asked Adam if he would be guest of honor at a special OOS fundraiser, to help raise money to assist in the purchase of land. Grimm graciously and enthusiastically agreed, and thanks to him we were able to pull in a sizeable chunk of change. That money ultimately went to provide a necessary match for Clean Ohio funds, and along with The Nature Conservancy we were able to help purchase a key parcel of land in TNC's Edge of Appalachia preserve in Adams County.

Finally, here it is - Adam's winning Northern Pintail. It'll adorn the 2014 Ohio Wetlands Habitat Stamp.

This isn't Adam's first time at this dance. He won the Ohio stamp competition in 2005 with a beautiful portrayal of a Wood Duck, and he has also won state stamp competitions in Alaska (twice), New York, and Washington.

Congratulations to Adam Grimm, who is not only a great artist, but also a true conservationist.

Bank Swallows grace U.S. Postal Service envelopes

The U.S. Postal Service released new stamped envelopes today that feature artwork depicting the Bank Swallow, Riparia riparia, known elsewhere in the world as the Sand Martin. Matthew Frey of Annapolis, Maryland is the artist. Bank Swallows have a huge distribution and occur on six of the seven continents. I heartily applaud the U.S.P.S.'s interesting choice of our smallest swallow to grace their newest rendition of the 58-cent Forever Envelopes. Read more about the stamp HERE.

Long-eared Owls in willow thicket!

Yesterday, along with a few other folks, I found myself skirting along a large wetland complex in the western marshes of Lake Erie. It was a gloomy, overcast day, with wet snow/rain spitting constantly in hypothermia-inducing temperatures. Nonetheless, spring was in the air, if one were to believe the birds. Flocks of blackbirds were here and there, and the boldest of the early returning male Red-winged Blackbirds were teed up and proclaiming their territories with guttural conk-ah-REE-onks! Waterfowl were on the move, and scores of Tundra Swans were moving about, restless to push on north to their Arctic breeding grounds.

In spite of all the conspicuous avian action, our attention was riveted to the innocuous looking willow thicket above, at least for a memorable while.

This shrubby copse is just like acres and acres of the same stuff in Lake Erie wetlands, but this patch held a special treat. In fact, I suspect that many such thickets hold the feathered treats that we'll behold in just a second - it's just that few people look for things in such places.

Look closely - we're being watched! A Long-eared Owl, Asio otus, peers out at your narrator and his companions. This owl and its compadres were devilishly hard to spot in the dense willows. As we scanned the patch and ogled an owl, more would come to light. At one point, I was drawing a bead on this bird with my camera, and noticed another owl, barely visible, in the backdrop. We tallied four but I bet more were present. Our reluctance to disturb them precluded more aggressive surveying.

By sidling along the roadway, some fifty feet away, we were able to discover open portals into the thicket and clearer views of some of the owls. This is where my 500 mm lens really comes in handy. It isn't necessary to impinge on the birds' comfort zone in order to make decent photos. I also had my scope along, and was able to set that up a fair distance away and still provide everyone with killer looks, same as in this photo. The owls noticed us, obviously - what do they NOT notice? - but never showed signs of being on high alert.

Take a close look at this owl. A very cool and almost surreal element of owl physiology is on display.

The owl in the previous photo, and the chap above were both facing away from the road. But wait - they're still looking directly at the camera! Owls have fourteen neck vertebra, double our seven, and that allows them to twist their neck nearly 180 degrees and look directly behind them.

Long-eared Owls are not a rare bird, and are common throughout much of the northern boreal forest. They stage poorly understood southward movements in winter, and are regular visitors to Ohio and other states south of their primary breeding range. There are undoubtedly FAR more Long-eared Owls around than is supected, and when one sees these masters of camouflage imbedded in a dense willow thicket such as this, it becomes apparent just how easily they can be missed.

I think many Ohio birders have a skewed perception of Long-eareds' winter habitat, because so many people are used to seeing them in the pine groves at Killdeer Plains Wildlife Area and other select conifer groves. But it should be remembered that, with the exception of the Red Cedar, Juniperus virginiana, and Virginia Pine, Pinus virginiana, conifers are rather local and limited in distribution in Ohio. And even the two aforementioned species are not common statewide, and the other five native species suitable for owl roosting are very limited in distribution. In several areas where Long-eared Owls regularly turn up roosting in conifers, such as Killdeer Plains, there are NO native conifers or at best a smattering of Red Cedar. The birds are roosting in artificial plantings.

On several occasions, I've seen Long-eared Owls roosting amongst the dense gnarled branches of Pin Oak trees, Quercus palustris, and I suspect that's where the Killdeer Plains pine grove birds retreat when the human presence becomes too much. Pin Oaks are often very common in and around good Long-eared sites. They also favor dense grapevine tangles, which are found nearly everywhere, and good luck spotting owls in such haunts.

A key to devining possible locations for Long-eared Owls involves suitable hunting habitat. They hunt over open and semi-open ground, and if an area has Short-eared Owls and Northern Harriers, there is a good chance that Long-eareds are also in the immediate vicinity. The latter are strictly nocturnal, though, and thus much harder to discover. It involves lots of peeking and peering into dense vegetation, and/or much luck.

I want to thank Jeff Finn for pointing these birds out to us, and taking us to the spot. It's an interesting story as to how they were discovered, which was quite serendipitous. The location cannot be divulged, though, as the owls are on lands that are not publicly accessible, and I am always loathe to reveal Long-eared Owl roost sites as human pressure can become heavy once they're known. But now that we've seen these deciduous willow-roosting birds, we have a good search image for a "new" habitat in which to seek owls.