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.

Great Lakes talk - next Saturday, March 14

 

Bridalveil Falls careens 140 feet down a colorful cliff along the Lake Superior shoreline in Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. The falls has the longest drop of any waterfall in Michigan.

Next Saturday, March 14, I'm giving a talk on the Great Lakes for the Clark County, Ohio, park district, at their headquarters at 1301 Mitchell Blvd, Springfield. All are welcome, but there is a $5.00 fee. The program begins at 10 am. To register, GO HERE.

I've spent a huge chunk of my life exploring our Great Lakes, pretty much from stem to stern, including their outflow into the Atlantic Ocean at the mighty Gulf of St. Lawrence (where the world's largest Northern Gannet colony is found, and whales abound).

Following is the talk description:

The Great Lakes

The Great Lakes contain 20% of the world’s freshwater and are one of North America’s most vital natural resources. The entirety of the Great Lakes flow into the Atlantic Ocean via the Saint Lawrence River, which in turn forms the world’s largest estuary, the Gulf of Saint Lawrence. Each lake – technically, there are only four Great Lakes – has its own character, and collectively they support staggering biodiversity. The lakes are incredibly important to birds, and that will be an important facet of this program. We’ll look at how the lakes interact and how water moves through them, and distinctive characteristics associated with each, as well as the Gulf of Saint Lawrence. Finally, we will zoom in on Lake Erie and Ohio’s 262 miles of lakefront. Lake Erie, while the smallest of the lakes by water volume, is by far the most biologically rich of the Great Lakes. This talk features many images of Erie’s fascinating flora and fauna, especially birds.

Hope you can make it and look forward to seeing you if you do!

Cedar Bog update - one-year moratorium on data centers put in place

A portion of the estimated 400 people who came to the Urbana City Council meeting on March 3. Not everyone could fit in the room, and there was no way to capture all attendees in one photo.

In my last post, I mentioned the one billion-dollar, 460,000 square foot hyperscale data center that has been proposed for development on the south side of Urbana (Ohio), within 1.5 miles of the iconic Cedar Bog preserve, one of the most iconic natural areas in Ohio and the Midwest.

I shared a link to one of the two petitions circulating that objects to this development. Thanks to all who signed it. That petition can be FOUND HERE. Thus far, 4,558 people have signed, and several thousand have signed another, similar petition.

Last Tuesday night (March 3, 2026) was the night where the public got to come and give feedback to the Urbana (Ohio) City Council, the mayor, and several of his executive staff regarding this data center. Because of the enormous water needs for these centers - they’d undoubtedly tap into the aquifer that feeds the bog - its construction would likely do in Ohio’s most famous natural area.

Around 400 people showed up, and all of them (insofar as I could tell) were in opposition to the center. Over 30 people made comments directly to council, from kids to adults, and all made it clear that they did not want data centers in their community.

In response to public opposition, city council voted to place a one-year moratorium on data center construction, and we have high hopes that the project will be scrubbed before the moratorium ends.
Thanks to everyone who came out, and to those that took to the lectern to speak against this atrocity.

I'm going to write a more detailed piece about this whole debacle for my Columbus Dispatch newspaper column. I'll share that here after it has been published.

Ohio's iconic Cedar Bog threatened by proposed data center

 

A fen meadow at Cedar Bog, near Urbana, Ohio, in Champaign County. The meadows at the "bog" (it is actually a fen) are full of rare species, including many highly sensitive plants that are extremely particular about hydrology (water regime). Here's a link to a Columbus Dispatch newspaper article that I wrote about Cedar Bog in 2024.

This proposed data center is a short distance upstream (about 1.5 miles) from one of Ohio’s most iconic and sensitive natural areas, the legendary Cedar Bog. If you aren't up on data centers, they are massive computer processing plants that house servers, storage systems, and networking equipment that serve various aspects of the digital economy such as storing, processing, and distributing data related cloud computing, AI, and various online services. To learn more about these centers, and the harm that they cause environmentally, see THIS ARTICLE in Smithsonian Magazine.

The data center would tap water - LOTS of water - directly from the aquifer that feeds Cedar Bog. And the ecology of Cedar Bog is directly dependent upon the health of its aquifer - it is fed by ground water. It’s the worst possible location imaginable to site one of these monstrosities and we should all protest it. Please sign and share this change.org petition protesting the location of this data center, RIGHT HERE.

To inject some science in defense of Cedar Bog, it harbors one of the highest concentrations of rare, highly specialized plants of any site in Ohio. When Barb Andreas, John Mack and I authored the Floristic Quality Assessment Index of Ohio, we used that methodology to score numerous best of the best examples of various plant communities. Cedar Bog scored 45.4 - the highest score of any habitat that we are aware of in the state. Cedar Bog is singled out on page 16. To see a copy of the FQAI, with information about the methodology, GO HERE.

It's a shame we have to spend time and effort defending things that should not have to be defended, but this is just such a case. Please sign the petition, RIGHT HERE.

Texas Indian-paintbrush (Castilleja indivisa)

 

A Texas Indian-paintbrush (Castilleja indivisa) offers up a brilliant splash of orange against a wonderfully blue Texas sky. We were quite pleased to find a number of these paintbrushes in bloom during last January's trip to the Houston region. The paltry few plants that we saw is just the merest of foreshadowing of next spring - April, May - when paintbrush will paint the prairies orange, often in association with the brilliant blue flowers of Texas Bluebonnets (Lupinus texensis). Those two wildflowers growing en masse is high on my bucket list to see and photograph.

Natural light coupled with a slight puff of flash provides nice illumination to a perfect specimen of Texas Indian-paintbrush. Brazoria County, Texas. In general, I am not a big fan of flash on plants, but there are exceptions.

The primary eye-catching feature of paintbrushes is not the inconspicuous greenish flowers - it's the brightly colored orange bracts that subtend the flowers. Adding allure to this specimen is the white crab spider perched atop the plant.

Many species in the genus Castilleja (all?) are hemiparasitic. They attach themselves to specific host plants via specialized roots known as haustoria. The paintbrush then taps fluids from its host to help in its own nourishment, but such parasitism does not harm the host, insofar as I am aware. This species and a number of others use various native grasses such as bluestems as hosts. The hemiparasitic habit makes paintbrushes difficult to grow, and these are plants perhaps best enjoyed in situ, where they naturally occur.

Explore Ohio's 60,000 miles of waterways with the new, free 'Ohio Stream Guide'

 

Explore Ohio's 60,000 miles of waterways with the new, free 'Ohio Stream Guide'

Columbus Dispatch

February 15, 2026

NATURE

Jim McCormac

Ohio is rich in water resources, perhaps most significantly in the 60,000 miles of creeks, streams and rivers that bisect the state. If stretched end to end, Ohio’s waterways would circle the earth nearly two and a half times.

Central Ohio is especially rich in high-quality streams, including numerous exceptional waterways. These include Big and Little Darby creeks, the Olentangy River and the Kokosing and Mohican rivers. All these streams support exceptional water quality and rare fish species in addition to other sensitive aquatic organisms.

Many a kid’s interest in natural history was first piqued by exploring the local creek or river. In my case, it was the Olentangy River that opened my eyes to the wonders of nature.

A best buddy, Jeff Held, and I made scores of forays to the nearby river to look for cool stuff. We’d find a log that would float, toss it in, hop aboard, and drift downstream. Bullfrogs, crayfish, great blue herons, redhorse suckers, and whatever else we could find were our targets. Had our mothers only known.

We know far more about our streams and their ecology now than in my youthful Huck Finn days. And one of the greatest resources to learn more about Ohio’s waterways is "The Ohio Stream Guide," which first appeared in 2000. The second edition of "Ohio Streams" was released late last year and represents a significant advance over the first edition.

The new edition of "The Ohio Stream Guide" was completed under the auspices of the Midwest Biodiversity Institute and published by the Ohio Chapter of the American Fisheries Society. Designer Ronald Zimmerman did an admirable job in presenting lots of information graphically and in an easily understood way.

Randall Sanders edited the publication and ensured that the information within is accurate, interesting and informative. I’ve known Randy for several decades and he is one of the legends in Ohio ichthyology. His interests range far beyond fish, and he is a knowledgeable ecologist that sees big pictures, and his deep knowledge of aquatic systems shines through the pages of "Ohio Streams."

Eleven chapters cover a broad range of subjects, including geology and geography, ecology, water quality, and pollution control, stream laws, and protection and restoration of streams. Ohio’s major river drainages are detailed, including the Scioto River, which flows through downtown Columbus. If the reader turns to chapter 10.7 to learn more about the Scioto, they’ll uncover a treasure trove.

The Scioto River, south of Columbus, is the state’s longest free-flowing (undammed) stream, and it boasts tremendous aquatic habitats. Five hundred and sixty-seven named tributary streams feed into the Scioto, and its waters support 116 species of fish and 67 mussel species.

Readers will also learn how the river got its name, what its major tributary streams are, and especially valuable are the maps showing the entire Scioto River drainage system, both on a state scale and the watershed in its entirety. Similar accounts cover all the other major streams, including the Cuyahoga, Hocking and Muskingum rivers.

Brand-new content for the second edition of "Ohio Streams" covers Ohio’s early history, and this well-researched section is a gem. It includes the Great Land Rush, documenting the remarkably fast influx of Europeans into the Ohio country, the first treaties, ordinances, and land acts, and the evolution of our first major cities, all of which were sited along rivers.

Streams represented our first highway system and provided the major transport routes for settlers. By 1788, about 18,000 people annually passed by Fort Harmar at the confluence of the Muskingum and Ohio rivers (now the site of Marietta).

Especially interesting to me is the section entitled "Quest for Species: The Naturalists." It features information about luminaries such as Jared Kirtland (namesake of Kirtland’s warbler), botanist André Michaux and the brilliant polymath Constantine Rafinesque.

As evidence of the incredible detail of this book, this section includes a chart listing “who described the most fish and freshwater mussel species.” Spoiler: Rafinesque described the most fish species.

While the entire book will be of great interest to conservationists, the chapter entitled "Restoring the Ohio Country: 1950- 2025" should be especially illuminating. I was pleased to read the account of Shawnee State Forest, Ohio’s largest contiguous forest and a goldmine for biological diversity. After perusing that, everyone should understand the critical role that forested systems play in protecting out waterways.

I have seldom seen a book that packs so much valuable information into its pages. The level of research and knowledge to pull this off is awe-inspiring. Streams are a major part of Ohio’s natural history, and "The Ohio Stream Guide" does an incredible job in showcasing their roles in relation to natural history, human history and aquatic ecology. This author highly recommends it.

Don’t pull your wallet out – "The Ohio Stream Guide" is free! Kudos to the Ohio Division of Wildlife for funding this project and putting this essential reference in the hands of interested parties free of charge. To get a copy, call the Division of Wildlife at 1-800-945-3543.

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.

Native Tree and Shrub symposium, March 21, Cincinnati Zoo

Original Ann Geise artwork, for this conference. Ann has created numerous pieces for various Midwest Native Plant Society events, and all of them are spectacular. Ann is an artistic Ohio treasure!

Native Tree & Shrub symposium

Look at these fabulous speakers for the Living Landscapes: Native Tree & Shrub Symposium. March 21, 2026, at the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Garden. $95 includes a zoo pass, free parking at the zoo, and a sit-down buffet lunch.

REGISTER HERE

When: March 21, 2026, 10:00–4 PM.

Where: Cincinnati Zoo, Frisch's Theater. Zoo pass included for one day and parking. Buffet Lunch included.

Speakers: Jim McCormac, Tom Borgman, Sam Settlemyre, Greg Torres and and Brian Jorg.
Ceu's may be available for attending.

Tom Borgman, Living Life on the Edge
We will investigate some ecological concepts of forest edges and succession. We will also look at the plants and wildlife that inhabit edges and how you can create some edge like habitat on your property. The transition zone at the edges of habitats is where we frequently discover the most captivating flora and fauna!

Brian Jorg, Cincinnati Zoo-Bowyer Farm, Great Native Shrubs for the Home Landscape
We will explore the wonderful diversity of our native shrubs, their culture and wildlife value. From deer resistance to keystone pollinator qualities, we will look at the individual characteristics that make this group of plants valuable to any landscape. From full sun to shade, we will discuss shrubs for any landscape situation.

Jim McCormac, Caterpillars make the natural world go 'round
The biggest group of herbivores in Ohio, by a long shot, are caterpillars. Their collective biomass probably outweighs that of Ohio’s thriving white-tailed deer population. Nearly all of these caterpillars are the spawn of moths: 4,000 species? 6,000? No one knows with certainty, as moths are not nearly as well known as their butterfly counterparts (only 160ish species in Ohio). Native plants grow caterpillars, and caterpillars are the fuel that underpins ecological food webs. We would not have most of our songbirds were it not for native plants growing these tube steaks on legs, and a great many other animals depend heavily on caterpillars. Feeding evidence of caterpillars on one’s plants is by no means a bad thing – it should be a mark of pride for the gardener. Those that grow natives, and by extension the caterpillars that have co-evolved to feed on them, are contributing greatly to conservation. This talk will be a pictorial romp through the crazy and fascinating world of Lepidopteran larvae and the roles that they play. Some caterpillars are nearly beyond belief, resembling sea slugs, tree snakes, bird droppings, plant bits and all manner of other mimicry. Most importantly, we will look at how our work with native flora benefits the natural world around us via the production of caterpillars.

Greg Torres, Planting for Birds
Plants and birds have a long history of working together. As an example of mutualism, this development and relationship between plants and birds has had far reaching consequences, encouraging co-evolution that enhanced the survival of both plants and birds. “Planting For Birds” explores some of these relationships, tips how we can grow plants to create habitats to help birds thrive, as well as resources for selections of beautiful native plants that support our local ecosystem.

Sam Settlemyre, An Introduction to Tree Care & Advocacy
Trees do so much for people, but what can we do for trees? Trees provide people with cleaner air, carbon sequestration, reductions in urban heat island effect, and so much more! While trees do so much for us, what can we do in return for them? In this presentation we will explore the ways in which you can set up trees for success through better planting techniques, regular care and maintenance. We will also explore some of the current threats, disease and otherwise, to trees and what we can do to help. Finally, we will discuss some ways in which we can advocate on behalf of trees in our community and help them live long healthy lives.

Sponsors:
Understory Level
Woodland Cemetery & Arboretum Association
Wimberg Landscaping
Wildflower Level
Natives in Harmony
Quail Ridge Specimen Trees
Herb Layer Level
Western Wildlife Corridor
Wild Birds Unlimited - West
Taking Root
Greater Cincinnati Wild Ones Chapter-meet your chapter members!
Civic Garden Center of Greater Cincinnati

Bobcat talk this Saturday!

Dr. Shauna Weyrauch of Ohio State University

A reminder for those into bobcats (and who wouldn't be into bobcats?). Conservation biologist and educator Shauna Weyrauch will give a program on Ohio's recovering bobcat population this Saturday, February 7 at 1pm at the fabulous nature center at Highbanks Metro Park in Delaware County (Ohio). In addition to all of Shauna's interesting information and photos, there are Purple Finches visiting the center's feeders! Hope to see you there!

Loggerhead shrikes are predatory birds. Why are they endangered in Ohio?

 

A loggerhead shrike hunts from an old fencepost/Jim McCormac

Columbus Dispatch

February 1, 2026

NATURE

Jim McCormac

On my recent trip to Houston, I built in plenty of time to explore areas along the Gulf Coast and vicinity. Once outside of the sphere of Houston, one can get into wide-open, sparsely inhabited places. That’s where we spent our time, primarily looking for birds to photograph.

It wasn’t long before we saw our first loggerhead shrike, perched on a roadside wire. By the time our travels were over, Shauna and I had seen 80 or more of these fascinating songbirds.

The loggerhead shrike is so named because of its disproportionately large noggin – a “loggerhead.” Perhaps more interesting is its scientific genus name, Lanius. That Latin word translates to “butcher.” That relates to an oft-used colloquialism for the shrike: butcherbird.

Put it this way: If shrikes were the size of whooping cranes, we humans could be in a world of hurt. While a loggerhead shrike is only about the size of a catbird, their brutality is on the level of a great white shark.

Their prey can range up to the size of a vole – which weighs at least as much as the shrike. Remarkably, in areas where they occur with 13-lined ground squirrels, shrikes can capture and kill those.

One of these mammals weighs up to 250 grams – five times the heft of a shrike. That’s akin to a psychotically homicidal Pee-wee Herman taking down a passive André the Giant. More common fare includes large insects such as grasshoppers, big spiders and even amphibians and reptiles.

While shrikes have large powerful raptorial bills, they lack the strong feet and talons of raptors. Hence comes the world of hurt part for victims. If you are lucky, the attacking shrike quickly snaps your vertebrae and the end comes fast.

Unlucky victims do not die rapidly and are relocated to a sharp object such as a projecting nail – as in my photo – sharp thorn or some similar skewering implement.

The prey is unceremoniously impaled, with the barbed wire or whatever serving as its substitute talons. Once stuck, pieces can be ripped off the body and eaten at the shrike’s leisure. The stuff of nightmares, so it would seem, but it’s business as usual for the butcherbird.

Loggerhead shrikes once were common, at least locally, in Ohio. While originally more of a southern bird, the clearing of the vast eastern deciduous forest – which blanketed 95% of Ohio – allowed this species of open country to expand northward. They reached their peak here in the first few decades of the 20th century.

At the time, agriculture was far more wildlife-friendly than it is today. Farming landscapes tended to be mosaics of cropland, fallow fields and meadows, and brushy fencerows that supported an abundance of insects, rodents and small songbirds – the shrike’s stock in trade.

In his 1935 publication "Distribution of the Breeding Birds of Ohio," ornithologist Lawrence Hicks noted that loggerhead shrikes were “very common” in some regions of the state and were likely present in every county.

As agribusiness increasingly eliminated non-cropland, increased the use of pesticides and segued to massive planting of monocultures, it greatly reduced biodiversity. Shrikes began to decline by the 1940s and that trend continued to the present.

When I penned my book, "Birds of Ohio," in 2004, I noted that there were perhaps only two nesting pairs of shrikes annually. Twelve years later, I was a co-author of "The Second Atlas of Breeding Birds in Ohio" and authored the loggerhead shrike account.

By this time, the shrike had been listed as endangered by the Ohio Division of Wildlife, a status it still carries. In my account, I noted that it was now one of Ohio’s rarest breeding species.

I suppose one might be forgiven for thinking that perhaps it’s a good thing that such a barbaric predator has been vanquished. But that would be to think in anthropomorphic terms. Shrikes just do what they evolved to do, same as sharks, mosquitoes, snakes, scorpions, and human beings.

While it might appear that all is lost for loggerhead shrikes in Ohio, as agriculture now covers 55% of the state, and the days of shrikes (and lots of other wildlife) in those regions are over, new possibilities have arisen from an unlikely source.

Strip mining – using large machinery to uncover and extract coal seams – began in Ohio about 100 years ago. In total, nearly 450,000 acres were mined – an area larger than Franklin County.

These sites were left as lunar wastelands largely devoid of flora and fauna. In 1972, laws were enacted that required the reclamation of former mine lands. Tens of thousands of acres in southeastern Ohio have been reclaimed, and these sites resemble savannas and prairies – excellent shrike habitat, or so it would appear.

By the time reclamation began to bear fruit, shrikes had already collapsed and thus could probably not populate these sites.

Enter our neighbor to the north, Canada. Loggerhead shrikes formerly occurred in the provinces of Ontario and Quebec but had disappeared there as well. In the late 1990s, Canadian biologists embarked on a captive breeding and release program, introducing shrikes into suitable habitat. This effort worked and has maintained a core shrike population. In 2012, shrikes fledged an impressive 82 chicks.

Perhaps it’s time to emulate the Canadians and consider a similar program to repatriate the charismatic butcherbird back to the Buckeye State.

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.

Rock Pigeons occupy expensive Gulf retreats

I didn't travel to Texas recently to take pictures of Rock Pigeons. Yet I did, and there's an interesting story behind these birds. We spent a lot of time along the Gulf Coast between Freeport and Galveston. The shore is littered with million to multimillion dollar seasonal retreats on stilts (Note: if you have to put your house on one-story tall stilts, it's probably not a smart place to build, and even stilts won't protect against severe hurricanes).

Anyway, as these monstrosities are largely uninhabited in winter, the pigeons move in. The plastic owls people attach to their balcony rails do not deter these clever birds. So, these pigeons are living large in the eaves and rafters of the seasonal pads of the wealthy - go pigeons!

I will note that Rock Pigeons are a personal favorite bird. I'm aware that they aren't native - pigeons were introduced to North America in the 1600's. But insofar as I know, they do little or no harm ecologically - even the smattering of pigeons that return to their wild roots and nest on cliffs in wild places. About all of the "problems" they cause are human-centric. Further, pigeons are gorgeous birds. The flock in the photo contains some of the classic "blue-bar" birds with grayish body and two thick black wing stripes - that's the wild phenotype. Some stunning coal-black individuals are also in the photo, and color variation in Rock Pigeons is wildly variable.

This species has been heavily studied in regard to color genetics, avian orientation (homing pigeons), and flight mechanics. The protein hormone prolactin - which enables mammals (and some other animals, including pigeons) to produce milk, was first discovered in pigeons. The lowly pigeon has made tremendous contributions to science but receives little credit for it.

Clapper Rail

 

A Clapper Rail (Rallus crepitans) peeks from a dense saltmarsh along the Gulf of Mexico. This morning - January 12, 2026 - dawned clear and beautiful, and shortly after leaving the hotel, we passed by an opening in a large coastal saltmarsh that was full of birds. We pulled over, carefully approached the spot, and were able to get fairly close, and just as good, could get on the ground to better depict our subjects on their level.

After shooting more obvious subjects - various herons and egrets, Roseate Spoonbills, ibises, etc. - I noticed a Clapper Rail peeking from the marsh. Soon it became apparent that there were three rails, and two of them, apparently unaware of or indifferent to our presence, came into the open and put on a show.

As always, click the image to enlarge

One of the Clapper Rails poses beautifully, in between bouts of preening. While the big chicken-like birds are probably more extroverted than most of their rail brethren, they'll still dart rapidly back into the vegetation if startled. But we stayed nice and quiet and had about fifteen quality minutes to shoot these birds in primo light.

A Clapper Rail scuttles onto a mudflat, showing its oversized foot. One reason that this big rail is so successful is probably due to its varied diet. They'll eat all manner of readily available fare: worms, crabs, shrimp, all manner of invertebrate animal life, seeds and other plant parts, and even fish. A Ring-billed Gull was nearby when I made these shots, working on a dead fish. One of the Clapper Rails went over and attempted to wrestle with the gull over the fish and did nip away parts of the piscine treat.

The stubby tail of a Clapper Rail, which it frequently holds cocked aloft, in the manner of a wren.

Most rails swim well, and the Clapper Rail is no exception. This one went motorboating about, snapping at morsels on the water's surface and submerging its head to forage on who knows what, in the manner of a dabbling duck.

The Clapper Rail is extremely similar to the King Rail, but they differ consistently in habitat. The former is confined to salt marshes along the Atlantic and Gulf coasts, while the King Rail favors freshwater marshes and sometimes brackish (slightly salty) wetlands.

Clapper and King rails represent a bit of a taxonomic snarl, and the two "species" are known to hybridize (apparently not frequently, but who knows). While there is still plenty to be learned about these two entities, I am sure, they have recently been carved up. The King Rail was split into two species: the nominate King Rail of much of the eastern U.S., and the fairly recently minted Aztec Rail of central Mexico. The Clapper Rail was cleft into three species: the Clapper Rail of this post, which ranges along the Atlantic and Gulf coasts of the U.S., Ridgway's Rail of the Pacific coast/southwestern U.S., and the Mangrove Rail of Central and South America.

But if you see a rail that looks like this in an American coastal salt marsh, it's about sure to be a Clapper Rail.

Yellow-rumped Warbler is Ohio's only regular wintering warbler

 

A female yellow-rumped warbler feasts on poison ivy berries/Jim McCormac

NATURE

Jim McCormac

Columbus Dispatch

January 19, 2026

Come mid-winter, birders start to experience warbler-deficit disorder. The small, colorful songbirds are favorites among the binocular-toting crowd, and Ohio is a major warbler hotspot.

Forty-one warbler species have occurred in the Buckeye State, and 36 of them occur annually. Many species occur in large numbers, especially during spring and fall migration.

But May – peak of vernal migration – is still months away. That’s a long time for those of thirsting for colorful Blackburnian, Cape May and Magnolia warblers and their dashing brethren. Collectively, our warblers display a palette of hues that would dazzle the most ambitious artist.

However, most of our warblers are currently residing in haunts that should make most of us northerners envious: southern Florida, Colombia, Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, Mexico. Most species of warblers winter in tropical climes with some species as far south as Argentina and Bolivia.

Take hope, though – we still have the hardy yellow-rumped warbler! This feathered tough bucks the dominant paradigm of its southbound snowbird associates and routinely winters in northerly latitudes such as Ohio.

The yellow-rumped warbler is the most abundant North American warbler with a population estimated at 150 million birds. “Butterbutts,” as they are slangily known, are among our showiest warblers, but people get jaded to them due to their commonness. “Just another butterbutt” is an oft-heard refrain amongst birders poring through the waves of spring and fall migrants.

No yellow-rumped warblers occupy Ohio during the summer months. Their breeding season lies well to our north, where they nest across the length and breadth of the conifer-dominated boreal forest.

Breeding butterbutts can be found from Alaska to Newfoundland, and south to northernmost Michigan. Others breed further south at high elevations in the Appalachian Mountains and the western Rocky Mountains.

While both sexes sport the telltale yellow rump, the male is admittedly flashier. It is clad in showy black and grayish-blue plumage highlighted by a golden throat and flanks. At one time, scientists cleaved this widespread warbler into two species: the eastern “myrtle” warbler and the western “Audubon’s” warbler.

Males of the latter, named for the legendary frontiersman and ornithologist John James Audubon, wear a lemony-colored crown patch and flashy yellow throat. The myrtle warbler – which birds appearing in Ohio are – lack the golden crown and have white throats.

Due to a zone of hybridization, where myrtle and Audubon’s warbler ranges meet, scientists lumped them into one species – the yellow-rumped warbler – in 1973. To this day, many birders still refer to these subspecies as myrtle and Audubon’s warblers.

Breeding yellow-rumped warblers are tightly tied to coniferous trees, including fir, pine and spruce. Away from that habitat, however, they are perhaps the most versatile of all our warblers in habitat use.

I would not be surprised to see a butterbutt in nearly any habitat imaginable and probably have over the years. The warblers are also adept at finding and eating a wide range of food, which, in addition to their vast breeding range, probably plays a big role in their success.

This hardy, versatile warbler also winters further north than any other warbler. While some birds range as far south as the Caribbean and Central America, most winter in the U.S.

I’m in southeastern Texas as I write this column, and yellow-rumped warblers are everywhere. But just a week ago, Shauna and I participated in the Hocking Hills Christmas Bird Count in Ohio and found seven butterbutts in our turf. Yellow-rumped warblers winter commonly north to Ohio and other Midwestern states.

A prime reason that butterbutts can survive northern winters is their ability to include lots of fruit into their diet. And a major source of that fruit is one of the most despised native plants in North America: poison ivy (Toxicodendron radicans).

I suspect that poison ivy is THE primary reason that butterbutts can successfully overwinter in northern climes, while their mostly insect-eating warbler relatives must retreat to more southerly buggy latitudes.

The yellow-rumped warbler in the accompanying photo is scarfing down poison ivy berries, and I made that image on the aforementioned Hocking Hills bird count in subfreezing temperatures.

Poison ivy fruit fuels many species of wintering birds, not just butterbutts. In many ways, the rash-inducing vine is one of our most important wildlife plants. That’s a hard case to make to most people, but the yellow-rumped warblers sure appreciate poison ivy.

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.