Blue-eyed Mary, en masse, with pink-flowered variant

As always, click the image to enlarge

The weekend past, Shauna and I visited Washington and Monroe counties (Ohio), primarily to engage in fish work. I'll hope to post some of our piscine captures later. Our hosts were David and Laura Hughes, indefatigable explores who have lived in rural Washington County for years now and know the natural history of the area like no others.

Sunday morning, we decided to take a backroads path to the meeting spot where we'd be doing fish work. That decision proved fortuitous. A rural lane took us into a richly wooded narrow valley that was carpeted with Blue-eyed Mary (Collinsia verna). The image above was taken in the heart of the largest "patch", which blanketed the woods on both sides of the road, for probably the better part of a half mile.

Blue-eyed Mary is a winter annual, and as such, is one of our few annual spring wildflowers. Where it occurs, it is often present in large numbers but still, I don't think I've ever seen the numbers that we saw here.

On the wooded banks of a small stream where we were sampling fish, there were more Blue-eyed Marys. Sprinkled among their ranks were a very few pink-flowered variants. They were quite striking, and the plant above aided our comparison by growing adjacent to a "normal" color form.

While I've seen thousands of Blue-eyed Mary flowers over the years, I'd never clapped eyes on pink ones. An admittedly less than thorough internet search would indicate that it is a rare variant. I did drum up one or two references to it, but if such a thing were widespread, I'd imagine there would be far more information out there. The flowers also rarely can be completely white.

Northern Flicker, violets, and ants

This male Northern Flicker (Colaptes auratus) spent much time foraging in my lawn yesterday afternoon, April 10. Ground-bound flickers are often hunting ants. It may have been no coincidence that he was particularly interested in the patches of Common Blue Violets (Viola sororia) which, of course, I let run rampant (no chemicals here). Ants are a big food source for flickers, and ants are also major dispersers of violet seeds. I suspect that my feral native violet colonies have abetted the formation of ant colonies, thus helping to feed this flicker. A "wild" lawnscape attracts much more in the way of wildlife than neatly manicured lawns dowsed with chemicals. A beautiful Fox Sparrow recently graced my backyard for the better part of two weeks, and I was treated to his lovely, whistled song daily, and scores of Dark-eyed Juncos and White-throated Sparrows overwintered. The Eastern Cottontails are in full courting mode, the local Red Squirrel, as always, tries to exert his dominance over the much larger Eastern Gray Squirrels, and Carolina Chickadees and Eastern Bluebirds are busily investigating my nest boxes. Not bad for a suburban lot!
 

A white Eastern Gray Squirrel

One of the white (leucistic) Eastern Gray Squirrels (Sciurus carolinensis) that can be locally common in parts of SW North Carolina. While the town of Brevard is famous for their white squirrels, they're elsewhere and this one was imaged near Tryon, about an hour to the east. I wanted to photograph one of these beasts on my recent trip to North Carolina to speak at the amazing Gardening for Life Festival. Thanks to Vivian and Bill for allowing to visit their property, which has melanistic (black), normal gray, and white squirrels! March 30, 2024.
 

Yellow Trillium, and lots of it!

 

An amazing stand of Yellow Trillium (Trillium luteum) blankets a rich forest in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in North Carolina. This morning.

I'm working my way back north following a wonderful time at the Gardening for Life festival in Tryon, North Carolina. I was there to speak about moths. This region is a botanical hotspot and I've been soaking up the early spring flora, but have also seen bear, elk, and many other interesting things.

More on all this later, when time permits.

Spring Botany Blast! New River Gorge, West Virginia, April 11 - 14

The inaugural Spring Botany Blast! takes place this April 11 - 14 in and around the incredible New River Gorge in West Virginia. This region is a plant aficionado's paradise. A diversity of habitats, mostly wooded, in stunning mountain environs, harbor scores of wildflower species, often in great profusion. We'll be based at Hawk's Nest State Park, which is convenient to all of the special hotspots that we'll be visiting.

Spring Botany Blast! was started as an offshoot of the New River Birding & Nature Festival, in which I have participated as a guide and speaker for about 20 years. So, I feel I know the area pretty well, but my co-leaders Rosanna Springston, Jodi French-Burr, and Mitchell Dech know the region even better, as locals, and are also intimately familiar with the flora (and fauna).

CLICK HERE for more details, and registration information. It'll be a whirlwind weekend filled with great botanizing amid some of the showiest scenery in the eastern U.S. Following are some shots of some of the wildflowers that we'll see, but this is just a tiny snippet of what to expect. Photo ops will abound, and I'm glad to work with anyone on improving their tactics for making plant imagery.

There aren't many spaces left, so I'd suggest acting soon. Hope to see you there!

Blue-eyed Mary (Collinsia verna)

Carolina Spring-beauty (Claytonia caroliniana)

Mountain Magnolia (Magnolia fraseri)

Large-flowered Bellwort (Uvularia grandiflora)

Long-spurred Violet (Viola rostrata), rare white-flowered form

Red Trillium (Trillium erectum)

Fire-pink (Silene virginica)

Eastern Red Bats, moths, and leaf litter

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.

An Eastern Red Bat (Lasiurus borealis) nestles among the leaves of an American Beech (Fagus grandifolia). 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.

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!).

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.

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.

A Common Oak Moth (Phoberia atomaris) 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.

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.

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.

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.

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 (Eupsilia morrisonii) flying about a northern Ohio woodlot on a March night when temperatures were in the mid-30's.

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.

An Eastern Red Bat tucked into senescent beech leaves.

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.

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.

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, CLICK HERE.

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.

Bewick's Swan: An Ohio First

 

A quintet of Tundra Swans (Cygnus columbianus) prepares for landing.

I attended the annual Ohio Bluebird Society's 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.

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 (Cygnus columbianus). 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.

The Bewick's Swan is now (mostly) considered to be a subspecies of the Tundra Swan (Cygnus columbianus bewickii). 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, Avibase separates the two.

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.

As always, click the photo to enlarge

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.

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.

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 HERE).

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.

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.

Here is a germane quote from the Bird's of the World Tundra Swan account:

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.

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.

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.

NOTE: 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.

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.

The first wildflowers erupt

 

Ivy-leaved Speedwell (Veronica hederifolia) 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 (Taraxacum officinale) 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.

Our first stop was the Arc of Appalachia's Chalet Nivale Preserve in Adams County. The "Nivale" in the name refers to Trillium nivale, 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. Trillium cernuum is considered extirpated and was only documented once, in 1879 in Lake County) to bloom.

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.

A brave Virginia Bluebell (Mertensia virginica) 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.

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.

Unsurprising but always welcome was the aptly named Harbinger-of-spring (Erigenia bulbosa). 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.

PHOTOGRAPHY NOTES: 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.

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 RIGHT HERE and will promptly ship it to your door.

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.

One our most beautiful members of the Liliaceae, White Trout Lily (Erythronium albidum). 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 (Erythronium rostratum). The Arc of Appalachia (incredible conservation organization!) owns the Gladys Riley Golden Star Lily Preserve 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.

Nature/Opinion: American Ornithological Society set to rename honorific birds

A juvenile Cooper's hawk, perhaps upset that its name is changing/Jim McCormac 

Nature/Opinion: American Ornithological Society set to rename honorific birds

Columbus Dispatch
February 18, 2024

NOTES: 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 (see this paper 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.

To most non-birders, the proposed renaming of honorifically named species is probably a mild absurdity - something straight out of the ONION. 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.

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.

If you disagree with the AOS's decision, feel free to sign the Change.org petition, RIGHT HERE. 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. 

NATURE
Jim McCormac

The little-known U.S.-based American Ornithological Society (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.

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.

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…”

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?’”

If no one knows who these people are, how can their names be exclusionary?

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.

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.

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.

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.

To learn more about rationales for changing bird names, visit the AOS website: English Bird Names Project - American Ornithological Society (americanornithology.org). For dissenting opinions, including some from leading ornithologists, visit the Change.org petition to AOS leadership.

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

Bird photography talk: The Art and Science of Shooting Birds

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 Cincinnati Nature Center. 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: Cincinnati Nature Center (ticketapp.org)

Fishing spiders in Ohio? It's true.

A female white-banded fishing spider guards its nest/Jim McCormac

Fishing spiders in Ohio? It's true.

Columbus Dispatch

February 4, 2024

NATURE

Jim McCormac

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 (Dolomedes albineus). A later literature review showed no Ohio records of this southern species. Major excitement! A new spider for Ohio, and a particularly spectacular one!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

A large female white-banded fishing spider blends well with tree bark/Jim McCormac

Scores of English name changes to birds are apparently coming

 

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.

Many of us are aware of the American Ornithological Society's (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.

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.

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 HERE.

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. 

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".

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.

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.

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 Carex pedunculata, Liquidambar styraciflua, or Symphyotrichum oblongifolium, 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.

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.

To read the AOS reasoning behind changing names, go here: http://tinyurl.com/ynhkyk7u

To see a petition against the name changes, with arguments against it, go here: http://tinyurl.com/2bjxf6uz Feel free to sign it, too.

Speaking & Guiding Gigs 2024

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.

January 30, 2024: Shaker Lakes Garden Club. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Pepper Pike, Ohio, 9:30 am.

February 3, 2024: Phipps Conservatory, Native Plant and Sustainability Conference. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

February 8, 2024: Ohio Tree Care Conference. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Cherry Valley Lodge, Granville, Ohio.

February 10, 2024: Gardening for Wildlife Workshop. 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.

February 26, 2024: Cincinnati Nature Center Camera Club. The Art and Science of Bird Photography. 6:30 pm, Cincinnati Nature Center, Milford, Ohio.

March 2, 2024: Ohio Bluebird Society annual meeting. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Ashland University, Ashland, Ohio.

March 8, 2024: Vernal Palooza (Ohio vernal pool conference). A Slew of Salamanders (and other amphibians). Camp Oty' Okwa, Hocking County, Ohio.

March 9, 2024: Muskingum Valley Spring Gardening Symposium. Mysterious Moths (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.

March 9, 2024: Bedford Area Master Gardeners (Virginia). Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). ZOOM meeting, 11:30 am.

March 30, 2024: Gardening for Life Project conference. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Polk County High School, Columbus, North Carolina.

April 11 - 14, 2024: Spring Botany Blast! Wildflower walks and talks in some of eastern North America's most plant-rich habitats. Ansted/New River Gorge, West Virginia.

April 16, 2024: Four Seasons Gardening Club. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Dayton, Ohio, 9:30 am.

April 29 - May 4, 2024: New River Birding & Nature Festival. Lead daily trips and give talk. Fayetteville, West Virginia.

May 8, 2024: Biggest Week in American Birding. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Maumee Bay Lodge, Oregon, Ohio. 2:30 pm.

May 28, 2024: Greater Akron Audubon Society. Mysterious Moths (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.

June 1, 2024: Allegany Nature Pilgrimage. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Allegany State Park, Salamanca, New York.

June 8, 2024: Beaver Creek Wetlands Association native plant day. Talk will focus on native plant diversity. Details to come.

June 22, 2024: Cedar Bog Nature Preserve. Moth talk, followed by mothing. Urbana, Ohio.

July 19-21, 2024: Mothapalooza. Help with various field excursions and nocturnal forays. Highlands Nature Sanctuary, Bainbridge, Ohio.

August 2 - 4, 2024: Midwest Native Plant Conference. Hummingbird talks, lead field trips. Bergamo Center, Beavercreek, Ohio.

August 17, 2024: Moth talk by Chelsea Gottfried (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

September 11, 2024: University of Cincinnati. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Cincinnati, Ohio, 4:30 pm.

September 18, 2024: Newark Public Library. Mysterious Moths (based on the book Gardening for Moths by me and Chelsea Gottfried, Ohio University Press 2023). Newark, Ohio, 11 am.

November 9, 2024: Cedar Bog annual fundraiser. Fabulous Fens. Cheetah Lounge, Urbana, Ohio.

Brown-headed Nuthatch

This Brown-headed Nuthatch (Sitta pusilla) 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.

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.

Another major pine woods specialty bird target of this trip was the far rarer Red-cockaded Woodpecker (Dryobates borealis). 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.

Nature: Short-eared Owls wing it to Ohio in larger numbers this winter

A short-eared owl hunts from a perch/Jim McCormac

Nature: Short-eared Owls wing it to Ohio in larger numbers this winter

Columbus Dispatch
January 7, 2024

NATURE
Jim McCormac

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

A short-eared owl hunts voles on the wing/Jim McCormac