Henslow's Sparrows at the Resilience Preserve

 

The Arc of Appalachia's 525-acre Resilience Preserve in Hocking County, Ohio. The property has had a rough past, including logging (multiple times) and surface mining. Unlike most of the Arc's other properties, this site is not some pristine natural area although the surrounding woodlands are fairly mature and will only improve with age. Other than scattered young Virginia pine (Pinus virginiana), hardly any of the dominant vegetation in the meadows is native. Fescues dominate, along with large patches of Chinese lespedeza (Lespedeza cuneata). The latter is a legume, does well in poor heavily disturbed soil, and was heavily used in the "reclamation" process. This is not really reclamation though, it's damage mitigation. Nonetheless, this formerly mined site is now far better for fauna than it was immediately post-mining when it would have been a lunar wasteland.

One very special animal that has taken a shine to this site - and many other so-called reclaimed mine sites - is the Henslow's Sparrow (Centronyx henslowii). Shauna and I visited Resilience yesterday morning (April 11, 2026) to admire these handsome sparrows and try for some imagery.

As always, click the photo to enlarge

A male Henslow's Sparrow sings from within the grasses, near ground level. This species is often referred to as "shy" and "retiring", but that's not really the case. They are birds with a preference for treeless densely grassed sites with heavy duff layers. Note the size of the sparrow's feet and claws. This is a species that spends much time on or near the ground, foraging in dense vegetation. It's not so much shy and retiring as it is a bird that just spends much time in situations where it is hard/impossible to see them. As we will see, Henslow's Sparrows sometimes sing from conspicuous perches and as long as the observer is quiet and deliberate in their movements, these sparrows are often quite tame and easily approached.

Yesterday morning was perfect for bird photography - mostly sunny with light winds. We arrived quite early, to capitalize on a few hours of perfect morning light. In the above photo, the red arrow points to a clump of multiflora rose (Rosa multiflora). Male Henslow's Sparrows frequently sing from the thorny tangles, in part because the nonnative rose provides an elevated perch in the grassy near monocultures that is the favored breeding habitat (at least in my neck of the woods).

Anyway, the rose shrub above hosted a singing sparrow and that's what we're focused on. Shauna has her Nikon Z8 and 180-600mm lens affixed on the target. I stepped back to iPhone the scene as it is instructive and might come in handy for one of my bird photography lectures. Note how our shadows point directly at the target - picture-perfect lighting. My rig is on the right, a Canon R5 bolted to a Canon 800mm f/5.6 prime lens. Sandwiched between the lens and camera is a 1.4x extender, which makes the lens good for 1120mm. That's a lot of reach but bigger is generally better when it comes to bird photography.

While the 1.4x extender generally works beautifully on most of the lenses that I want to use it on, it has a more finicky relationship with the 800mm lens. Bright sunny days with strong lighting on the subject is where this combination can really shine, and the remainder of the sparrow shots in this post were taken with this combination. The next image was either made from the spot above, or perhaps a bit closer, but still pretty far off and a Henslow's Sparrow is only 5 inches in length.

NOTES ON APPROACHING BIRDS: When approaching birds, a common tactic is to start shooting fairly far off, near the limits of camera reach. Then, I'll move a bit closer, shoot some more, then move a bit closer, etc. In the case of Henslow's Sparrow, they will allow for close approaches as long as the approacher is quiet, does not make sudden moves, and doesn't get too close. For me, a perfect shoot would be working my way in on the subject to the point that I do not need to be any closer, yet the bird is unfazed and continues to sing. I finish my shooting, slip away, and the bird is still on its singing perch.

Here's the very bird that the red arrow in the previous shot was pointing at. I don't think I shot it from the exact spot in the previous image, but after sidling a bit closer to the subject. But 1120mm allows the photographer to be pretty far away and still get imagery like this. As you may have noted, singing birds will often regularly shift position to better broadcast their songs in all directions. When this animal decided to position itself with its back to me, I was quite pleased. The ornate plumage and interesting coloration of the dorsal surface of a Henslow's Sparrow is a sight to behold.

A bit later, we ran across this fine chap, who had teed up on a barren stalk. This was an awesome setting, but the only issue at first was that the sparrow was facing the other way and that masked a lot of detail and presented an improper (to me, for artistic purposes) head angle. We were mostly seeing its back, and he was looking slightly away. But, as we knew he'd likely do, the bird eventually flipped itself 180 degrees and voila! Perfect angle from our elfin model. Note how his head is cocked in my direction about 5 degrees. That's about the perfect head angle from my perspective.

But this bird is just taking a brief respite from singing...

There it is - the shot that I really wanted. I was using a 9-frames per second burst mode, and when I saw he was just about to toss his olive head back and deliver its aria, I'd hold down the trigger and fire away. Only about three shots would feature obvious singing, so quick does the cricket-like 3/5ths of a second song pass (one of the shortest North American bird songs). Next time I shoot Henslow's Sparrows I'll probably use electronic shutter mode and 20 frames per second burst mode to better capture the whole performance but nonetheless I could still almost always get one shot like the above most times that I fired on singing birds.

Note the creamy brown bokeh (background). It's just browned senescent grasses, crushed into a smooth tan coloration by the big telephoto lens. Big telephotos blur the background like nothing else, and a plain background is great for putting all of the emphasis on the subject.

I heard something like two dozen singing Henslow's Sparrows at Resilience Preserve and they are quite easy to find. One must be familiar with their song to efficiently track birds down, but it is not a hard song to learn. GO HERE to hear it.

The Arc of Appalachia has many amazing preserves, and you can see the master list of their holdings RIGHT HERE. I'd highly recommend a visit to Resilience Preserve for sparrow enthusiasts and photographers with an itch to shoot North America's most beautiful sparrow. CLICK HERE for details on the preserve. 

Gray fox numbers falling, but Ohio still allows hunting

A gray fox takes stock of its surroundings in a southeast Ohio forest/Jim McCormac

Columbus Dispatch

April 5, 2026

NATURE

Jim McCormac

Prior to European settlement, when Ohio was 95% forested, the gray fox was the only fox species in the state, and it was undoubtedly common statewide. It wasn’t until the late 1700s that the first red foxes appeared in the state. Prior to that, red foxes were confined to more northerly latitudes. This species benefited from human activities such as forest clearing and persecution of apex predators, most notably the gray wolf, that allowed it to expand southward into new territory.

However, the foxy twain didn’t meet, at least much. Red fox prefers open country, while gray fox favors heavily wooded sites. Competition due to the red fox’s arrival probably had little if any impact on gray fox numbers.

Coyotes, which also expanded into Ohio much the same as the red fox did, didn’t appear until the mid-20th century. Even by the 1980s, coyotes were still actively expanding in Ohio and were nowhere near as common as they are now. Unlike the red fox, coyotes can and will prey opportunistically on gray fox but probably play little if any role in reducing their numbers. Gray foxes climb trees like cats and can easily elude ground-bound predators.

A major and abrupt decline in Ohio’s gray fox population began in the 1970s and continued into the early 1980s. The reason? A major trapping run, spurred by high fur prices. For about a decade – roughly mid-1970s to mid-1980s – gray fox pelt prices spiked, reaching a high of nearly $45 (about $180 in today’s dollars).

High pelt prices prompted trappers to target gray foxes (see attached graph, courtesy Appalachian Wildlife Research Institute), which by many estimates is one of the easier mammals to trap. This led to a wholesale slaughter of the small forest-going foxes (average weight is about 10-12 pounds). Between 1973 and 1983, nearly 250,000 gray foxes were trapped in Ohio alone. This caused an enormous reduction in gray fox numbers, and they never recovered.

The major gray fox decline correlates with an excessive trapping run in the 1970's-80's. Graph courtesy of the Appalachian Wildlife Research Institute

An abrupt and massive human-caused decline such as the gray fox trapping run makes a species far more vulnerable to other threats such as canine distemper and other diseases, predation, loss of genetic fitness and other detrimental factors. While virtually everyone familiar with gray fox agrees their numbers have plummeted and the decline continues, and biologists speculate on the causes, no one mentions the huge trapping run as a root cause. Indeed, much of the information from the wildlife management community uses 1990 as a starting point for gray fox discussion, thus conveniently ignoring previous history.

In wildlife management-speak, compensatory mortality essentially means “doomed surplus.” In other words, animals taken (“harvested” in game management jargon) by hunting/trapping would have died due to other causes anyway.

Additive mortality is when human-caused factors such as trapping directly decreases a population, removing individuals that otherwise would have survived. Given the now-tenuous status of Midwestern gray foxes, any unnecessary pressures on the population, such as hunting, are detrimental. That’s why the Illinois DNR, with the support of that state’s hunting and trapping community, banned gray fox hunting last year.

While the Ohio Division of Wildlife has instituted a study on gray foxes, they have not placed a moratorium on gray fox hunting. The season runs from Nov. 10 to Jan. 31. There is no bag limit, nor has there ever been one on foxes. That lack of limits is what allowed the mass slaughter of gray foxes during the aforementioned period of high pelt prices.

I would note that hunting regulations only reference “fox” lumping both gray and red fox together. That’s akin to comparing apples and oranges. Red fox is far more common and widespread than their very different gray fox counterpart. However, the methods used to trap foxes are essentially the same and it’s probably hard if not impossible to set traps that differentiate between the two species.

Despite gray fox being a legally huntable species, the Division of Wildlife lists it as a species of concern. That category is defined, in part, as: “A species or subspecies which might become threatened in Ohio under continued or increased stress.”

We’re already there, regarding the threatened status. Removing the fox from hunting pressure is an obvious step in removing an additional and unnecessary source of additive mortality, and the right thing to do.

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

Spring Nature Safari: Shawnee State Forest, May 1-3

I have been remiss about plugging this one, the 2026 iteration of the Spring Nature Safari that we - the Midwest Native Plant Society - launched last year. It takes place from May 1-3, and is based at the Shawnee State Park lodge, in the heart of the 70,000-acre Shawnee State Forest. All the details are RIGHT HERE.

There is possibly no better place to be in mid-spring in the Midwest than Shawnee. Floral diversity abounds, including pink and yellow lady's-slippers among the scads of abundant, more common wildflowers, and their ranks are spiced by major rarities such as early stoneroot (Collinsonia verticillata) and smooth phlox (Phlox glaberrima).

Warblers and other breeding birds are rich in numbers. Of the former, 16 species breed locally, and in early May their ranks will be augmented by other migrant species. Last year, a Swainson's warbler spent a month and a half or so on territory in the southern reaches of the forest, and with luck that bird may appear again this year. It was in an area with a fairly extensive stand of giant cane (Arundinaria gigantea), a huge bamboo-like native grass that forms the habitat most breeding Swainson's warblers are associated with. It's an interesting site and I will probably take my field trip groups here for a visit.

We've also got great speakers and will feature some nocturnal work for those interested. Amphibians and snakes (and other reptiles) can be interesting, especially on nocturnal forays. And I'm sure we'll have a moth sheet or few up. This group of insects can be mind-numbingly good. Shawnee supports about 1,000 native plant species, and probably all of them play host to moths, and some plant species such as oaks host huge numbers of moths.

Anyway, we'd love to see you there, and again, GO HERE for registration and other info about the Spring Safari.

Common Milkweed in an autumn prairie

 

As always, click the photo to enlarge

A Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) dehisces its spawn in a west-central Ohio prairie. I made this image on October 25, 2025, in Madison County. Milkweeds are very showy subjects, and I made this image with my bird lens (an 800mm prime). Big lens work well for botanical subjects, and work wonders in melting the background.

The curious epithet of the scientific name - syriaca - means what it implies: Syria. While Common Milkweed is native only to North America, it was long ago transported and spread about the Old World. Linnaeus described and named this species, but because of confusion with its native range on his part, it is branded with "of Syria" in its formal name.

Sage Thrasher - first state record!

 

A Sage Thrasher (Oreoscoptes montanus) streaks across James Yoder's Coshocton County driveway. While some ornithological prognosticators have long predicted this species might someday appear in Ohio, it was still a great, pleasant surprise when one finally did.

Last Sunday, March 15 (2026), James Yoder and family were moseying down that very drive when a different-looking bird popped up on top of a fence post. James's first thought was Northern Mockingbird but almost as quickly as that thought came to mind, he knew it wasn't correct. A bit better view and he knew right away what it was - Sage Thrasher, a species that breeds widely across the western U.S., barely ranging into Canada. James was familiar with this species from a prior Colorado trip. While some wintering birds move south into Mexico, Sage Thrasher breeds almost entirely in the U.S. (other than a relative handful of birds that nest in southern British Columbia and Saskatchewan).

The Sage Thrasher appears to be dustbathing, but I think it's fluttering its wings due to being agitated by a bold American Robin. Thrashers can be quite expressive with their wings, using them for courtship displays and to express irritation.

Here's the source of the thrasher's irritation. This male American Robin kept coming in to glean meal worms that James was putting out for the thrasher, and the latter did not care one bit for the big thrush's company. Here, the thrasher glares angrily at the robin and moments later, it drove off the larger bird.

Of the 15 thrasher species, the Sage Thrasher is the smallest. If the thrasher in my photo above was a Brown Thrasher (Toxostoma rufum), the only breeding thrasher species in the eastern U.S. and common in Ohio, it would appear as large or larger than the robin. For comparison, the robin's body length is 1.5 inches longer than the thrasher, its wingspan is over five inches longer, and the robin weighs nearly double our rare visitor. 

The thrasher comes into the mealworms consistently and sometimes remains for some time. When Shauna and I arrived in the early afternoon, James told us that we had just missed it but not to despair, it would soon return. Sure enough, about 25 minutes later it did, then remained for at least 20 minutes.

When the thrasher did leave, it would almost magically disappear, and it was hard to impossible to ascertain where it went. At one point, we saw it slip into a thick tangle of multiflora rose, as in the photo above. When it did that, the thrasher was rendered nearly invisible. In any event, between mealworm refueling, the thrasher was going into other habitats to forage and rest.

As always, click the image to enlarge

At one point, the Sage Thrasher hopped onto this exposed branch. It only stayed a few seconds, but your narrator was on his game and managed this shot. While Sage Thrashers may look rather plain - and compared to most other thrasher species, they are - it is still a showy little beast. I do not know whether this individual is male or female. Other than males being slightly larger, the sexes are essentially identical in appearance. I don't know this species well enough to offer an informed opinion as to the age of this bird, but if I had to guess, I would say an adult - not a first-year bird. The latter should, I think, still manifest more prominent dark streaking on the upperparts. However, if anyone is intimately familiar with Sage Thrasher and knows or has a good idea as to whether it is an adult or juvenile, please let me know.

Major thanks are due to James Yoder for making this extraordinary find. Not only that, but also for graciously allowing the scores of visitors who wished to see it. James got word out the same day that he found it, and the onrush of binocular-toters was nearly immediate. By the time we went - the third day after the bird was found - James reported that over 500 people had visited. Much appreciation to him for accommodating all of us.

I believe this Sage Thrasher is #456 on the Ohio bird list (please correct me if I'm wrong about that number). That's a huge number of species for a midwestern state and I believe of the states that abut Ohio, we have the largest list. Other than, and I say this with some pain, Michigan. I believe they are one or a few species ahead of us. But that won't last, and I am sure we will eclipse that state up north eventually, just as the Ohio State Buckeyes routinely trounce the Wolverines in football.

Urbana residents fight proposed data center near Cedar Bog

 

Data center opponents packed the Urbana City Council meeting on March 3/Jim McCormac

Urbana residents fight proposed data center near Cedar Bog

Columbus Dispatch
March 15, 2026

NATURE
Jim McCormac

“Technology can help us save the planet. But more than anything, we must learn to value nature.”

The above quote was a headline from a 2018 article published by the World Economic Forum. Its first sentence is not aging well. The second sentence remains true.

Growth in AI and other elements of the digital age is exploding, and so is the infrastructure to support it. Data centers are an overt manifestation of the industry, and an increasingly unpopular one.

Data centers, especially so-called hyperscale centers, are technological monsters. Hyperscale centers typically exceed 10,000 square feet and contain over 5,000 servers. Energy and water consumption can be extreme. Even a midsized center can use 300,000 gallons of water daily. That’s the equivalent of about 1,000 households.

Energy use can soar into the stratosphere. Giant hyperscale centers might require up to 250 megawatts daily. That’s roughly the equivalent of the residential energy use of Cincinnati.

Perhaps 5,000 data centers are now in operation in the U.S., and about 200 are online in Ohio.

Most Ohioans probably only became aware of data centers in the last year or two, and many citizens may still be in the dark about these massive computing operations. This appears to be by design. Tech giants such as Google, Meta, Microsoft and others have operated under a cloak of secrecy regarding their development.

As people have increasingly become aware of data centers and their prodigious energy and water use (and other negative issues), rebellions are fomenting. A local data center uprising involves a proposal to place a hyperscale center on the south side of Urbana, 1.5 miles north of the legendary Cedar Bog, which is perhaps Ohio’s most iconic natural area.

By the time most people learned about the proposed center, the land had already been purchased, and construction plans were well underway. The billion-dollar hyperscale center, as planned, encompasses about 460,000 square feet.

As word spread through the Urbana community and surrounding areas, residents revolted. Scores of people made their grievances known to Urbana City Council. To their credit, council scheduled a March 3 meeting at which citizens could air their concerns.

To accommodate the anticipated turnout, arrangements were made to use the Champaign County Community Center and its 200-seat auditorium. I attended, in part to offer expert testimony about Cedar Bog and its ecology.

The capacious meeting room was inadequate. An estimated 300-400 people came, the room was packed and the overflow extended into adjacent rooms and corridors.

Over 30 people, ages 13 to 91, delivered five-minute statements, and no one was for the data center. The majority also mentioned Cedar Bog, what it meant to them and its importance to Urbana.

A potentially major issue for the bog involves disruption to its hydrology. Cedar Bog is fed by the underlying aquifer, which provides a stable source of cool water. Cedar Bog depends upon clean groundwater to fuel its peaty wetlands. The hyperscale center would perch atop this aquifer, and upstream from the bog.

Over 520 species of native plants occur within the bog, which is over 25% of ALL the plant species in Ohio. Further, the site harbors three endangered plant species, nine threatened species and 14 potentially threatened or watch-list species.

Some are the rarest of the rare, such as prairie valerian, which was originally discovered in Cedar Bog in 1838. There is only one other small population in Ohio.

The most famous plant in the bog is undoubtedly the showy lady’s slipper, North America’s largest orchid. Likely tens of thousands of visitors have visited the bog in June to clap eyes on the giant pink and white flowers of this threatened plant.

Especially notable to botanists are the carnivorous bladderworts. These plants trap tiny invertebrates in sac-like traps attached to their roots. One species is the endangered horned bladderwort. The other species is, well, we don’t know for sure. It may turn out to be a highly localized “new” species not yet described to science.

Cedar Bog also harbors scores of breeding birds, endangered massasauga rattlesnakes and elfin skimmer dragonflies, spotted turtles, five-lined skinks, Milbert’s tortoiseshell butterflies and much more.

Protection of the underlying aquifer is essential to protect Cedar Bog’s fragile habitats. While the developer’s representatives, from CyrusOne and Thor Equities, claim that this data center would use “closed-loop” cooling, thus greatly reducing water usage, their claims were met with great distrust by those at the meeting.

The reps also expressed willingness to meet with all who wished to discuss concerns. Unfortunately, they left the meeting before all of those with concerns went to the lectern to express their concerns.

In an unexpected bit of good news from the meeting, Urbana City Council proposed a one-year moratorium on building the hyperscale center. Seven of the eight council members were present, and the moratorium proposal passed by a vote of 6 to1. The lone dissenter was Audra Bean, wife of Urbana Mayor Bill Bean. He is a major advocate for the data center.

I cannot think of a worse location for an energy-sucking hyperscale data center than the proposed Urbana site. Not only because of Cedar Bog, but also due to the close proximity of a retirement village, an elementary school and many businesses and residences.

Hopefully elected officials will stand with the Urbana residents who elected them and quash plans for this hyperscale data center.

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

The threatened showy lady's-slipper, an icon of Cedar Bog/Jim McCormac

Roseate Spoonbill

 Here's a blast from the very recent past. One of our coolest - and pinkest! - waders, the Roseate Spoonbill (Platalea ajaja). I traveled to the Houston, Texas area back in mid-January to speak at the annual Sadie Gwin Environmental Seminar, sponsored by the River Oaks Garden Club of Houston.

As an aside, my topic for the meeting was caterpillars. Yes, seemingly inconsequential bags of goo that few people notice. But make the natural world go 'round, to the point that we'd all likely be doomed if caterpillars - and the native flora that hosts them - disappeared. I have noticed a much-expanded interest in biodiversity among garden clubs over the decades, and this event was a good case in point.

Anyway, we factored in plenty of time prior to the conference to spend time along the Texas Gulf Coast. There are scores of birds in that region, and we spent quality time with many of them. One species that never gets old, at least to me, is the spectacular Roseate Spoonbill.

A flock of spoonbills in a marsh at Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge. Their vocalizations - ock-ock-ock! - don't quite live up to the spoonbills' vibrant coloration.

A well-named bird, the Roseate Spoonbill indeed sports a massive spoonlike appendage. The spathulate-shaped bill tip is heavily beset with fine-tuned nerve endings that enable a feeding bird to feel when prey enters the bill, which ii then promptly clamps down on and consumes.

Keep your eyes peeled for spoonbills no matter where you are. They can appear well beyond their normal range, and there are records from most Midwestern states. There have been about a dozen Ohio records to date, and there'll be more to come. Most extralimital reports come from late summer/fall.