The rain train has been rolling through town and bringing lots of warmth and moisture to the valley. While walking around in the fairly balmy weather, especially for December, I noticed seeds on the grass stalks were sprouting. The seed heads reminded me of miniature grass thatched roofs. I wondered if people were originally inspired, on some level perhaps, to build huts based on seeing this. The more I looked at it, the seed head segmented into tiny huts with grass sprouting out reminded me of a fuzzy caterpillar. Nearby on a fallen, decaying tree was a patch of fungus. I imagined my grass caterpillars spinning a cocoon and metamorphosing into these radiant, banded creatures. Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder, inspiration, and imagination. I hope to see you out there.
Spotted Towhee Eating Poison Oak Berries
Poison oak grows throughout most of the ecosystem at Mt. Pisgah Arboretum. The other day I watched a spotted towhee eating the berries. I was curious to see if it was listed in their diet on All About Birds by The Cornell Lab. Check out what they listed: “In the breeding season, Spotted Towhees eat mainly insects including ground beetles, weevils, ladybugs, darkling beetles, click beetles, wood-boring beetles, crickets, grasshoppers, caterpillars, moths, bees, and wasps. Other leaf-litter arthropods such as millipedes, sowbugs, and spiders are taken as well. They also eat acorns, berries, and seeds including buckwheat, thistle, raspberry, blackberry, poison oak, sumac, nightshade, chickweed, and crops such as oats, wheat, corn, and cherries. In fall and winter, these plant foods make up the majority of their diet.” It is amazing to realize the varied diet of some birds.
Most of the time the spotted towhee will be on the ground foraging. It will do this little backward shuffle with both feet to clear away debris on the ground. This will uncover/flush insects or reveal seeds underneath. Watching a towhee forage, I am fascinated by the amount of food that it finds on the ground. Most of it is gobbled up before I can see what it was or it is too small. It’s also fascinating to realize just how much time they have to spend looking for food. Especially at this time of year, most of my birdwatching is observing birds forage for food. If you want to have birds in your yard like the spotted towhee, it is necessary to grow native plants and leave the leaf litter and other plant debris on the ground to create a habitat for them to forage. Happy birding!
Sporophytes
I recently read Robin Wall Kimmerer’s book Gathering Moss. It is a fascinating tale of the life of mosses and it sent me out into the world with a new awareness.
In the photo, there is a cushy bed of moss. In this species, thin red stalks growing out have green capsules on the end that contain spores. These structures are known as the sporophytes and are the result of sexual reproduction. When the spores mature, they will be released, hopefully finding a suitable place to land and grow.
Here’s a small, general overview which I mostly gleaned from the book, but I also watched several videos and perused some articles on the internet. After finishing the book, I decided to go back and start rereading it from the beginning. I also need to invest in a magnifying lens because the world of mosses is miniature.
Depending on the species, mosses can either have separate male and female on leafy shoots or they can have both the male and female on the same shoot on different stems. The sexual organ is usually at the tip, hidden in a cluster of leaves. The female structure is called the archegonium and the male structure is called the antheridium. For the sperm to reach the egg, it needs to be transported through water. That can be accomplished by several ways. The water collected between the leaves of the moss can act as an avenue for the sperm to swim to fertilize the egg. Rain splashing onto the antheridium can carry the sperm in droplets of water. Also, droplets of water containing sperm can cling to tiny creatures living in mosses and as they move around, they can aid in transporting the sperm to the egg.
Robin mentions in her book that she has seen birds eating the sporophytes. I captured a couple of photos of a junco hopping around on a limb, and it appears to be foraging on them.
Solace
The cottonwood leaves are golden.
They shimmer against an infinite blue
like reflections of the sun’s rays across
the surface of the river.
They brush against each other in the wind
echoing the music of last night’s rainsong.
They are starting to fall.
Their bodies are forming a patchwork
of yellows and browns on the ground.
The calls of jays resound
through the landscape
like a clamoring of sewing machines
stitching the leaves together.
A pattern that could never be duplicated.
Foamy clouds blow in from the ocean
and drift by momentarily
blocking the lazy warmth of the sun.
I am awakened by the cool, clean
sheets of air.
I want to bring you out here.
Launch you like a kite
and sail you high above the earth.
Watch you shimmer
golden against an infinite blue.
In a rush of wind, I will let go
and set you free.
I love looking at the blanket of leaves on the ground underneath the trees. The warm earth tones and the complexity of the pattern on the ground are as hypnotic as watching them shimmer in the wind on the tree.
Occasionally I’ll come across a huge cottonwood leaf on the ground. The one in the photo below is 8 inches tall (not including the stem) and 7 inches wide.
Fall Recap
I wanted to bring some of my recent posts together and introduce a few more cast members.
In the light of the tilting earth, the wind sweeps in rain and cool air igniting the landscape in a warmth of colors and the plumage of fall spreads its wings in a dazzling display.
Newts dreamily saunter around in the mosaic of colors blanketing the forest floor, bathing in the moisture and the sweetness of decaying leaves.
Chipmunks scurry about highways of mossy logs and secret passageways through the tangled debris on the forest floor. In their bustling excursions, they find time to rest and soak up some rays that occasionally break through the clouds.
Mosses and lichens are awakened and restored by the rain. Their lush and bright spirits have come back to the forefront of my awareness.
It is easy to find yourself spending more time indoors this time of year, but there is so much to experience and explore! Bundle up, and I hope to see you out there.
While our deciduous friends are shedding their foliage and entering a season of rest, licorice ferns are awakening. Their vibrant green illuminates my spirit in winter’s waning light. Their fronds create beautiful patterns as they grow and overlap in a lush carpet on the ground or cascade down the side of a tree.
Ruby-crowned kinglets return to the valley to spend the winter. They acrobatically zip and zing through the bare branches celebrating life.
The rain creates mud where you can find footprints recording the comings and goings of animals.
Spider Web Galaxy
It was a misty day, and it was like walking in the clouds. My world was enveloped in infinite infinitesimal droplets of water. The world was close and intimate. It opened and expanded when I saw a web illuminated by an astronomical amount of starlets of water. A spider spun from glass laid at the center of the galactic web like a constellation.
Worms Climbing Trees
Last Saturday was warm and rainy, and I took a walk on the forested hillside of the arboretum. I wanted to be a little more sheltered from the wind and rain and to listen to the magical, orchestral sound of the rain falling through the canopy. As I paused on the trail soaking it up, I noticed, what appeared to be, small earthworms crawling around on a tree. They ranged in height on the tree from near the base up to about eight feet. They were all small and thin. I took this video to show you and also to let you hear the rain that was pouring down. Along the trail, I saw them on big-leaf maples, Douglas firs, and incense cedars. The ground underneath these big trees was fairly sheltered and had not become saturated with water, forcing the worms to the surface. Why were they crawling around on the trunks of these trees? There are so many mysteries to be encountered in nature every day.
Fall Mosaic
In the light of the tilting earth, the wind sweeps in rain and cool air igniting the landscape in a warmth of colors and the plumage of fall spreads its wings in a dazzling display.
Salamander
I found this small salamander crawling through some leaf litter. You can get a sense of its size from the rusty-orange fir needle tucked underneath its body. At first, I was struck by the flame of red-orange on its tail. As I knelt down to have a closer look, I was mesmerized by its colors and patterns. Its body was mottled copper and gold with blue speckles on the canvas of a black, moonless night sky. This terrestrial creature crawling through layers of decaying leaves was like a portal, a keyhole to the cosmos. It looked like I was peering into a gaseous cloud of stardust deep into the universe. To produce such a gentle creature, a miraculous journey of commingling elements and mystic forces came together over an incomprehensible vast expanse of time and space. Its body seemed so fragile, and it was a reminder that the balance of nature is delicate. We need to slow down and be better caretakers of the earth. I thought, “How much longer can Mother Earth sustain the weight of human progress?”
Juncos
I was watching a small flock of juncos move across the landscape. They were down on the ground hopping and flitting about in the grass. Here and there one would pop up into this poison oak bush and eat some berries.
I love these little, winter flocks that gather at the arboretum. For me, they have a peaceful and calming presence. They embody the serenity of winter—a compass pointing to a gentle quietness as life slows down in the waning light and cooling temperature. Plant me in the earth among the decaying leaves and dry flower stalks. Let roots anchor my body and transport the elements into my spirit. Let juncos spend the cold winter nights nestled in the thicket of my warming embrace. I’ll provide them refuge from the wind in the canopy of my coat. Seeds will spill from my pockets onto the ground, and they will joyfully dance around my feet in the rain filling their bellies. We will become old friends as we weave our lives together—a companionship made of gratitude, kindness, and harmony.
Acorns
I was sitting down watching a white-breasted nuthatch bouncing around the limbs of an oak tree. There were heaps of acorns scattered across the ground. I decided to open some of them up and have a look inside. Acorns are a nutritious food source, and I was curious how many had a little grub inside. Of the seven that I opened, only one was free from a grub. All of the others were in various states of being eaten and one of them was completely devoured. I wondered how many of the acorns become inhabited by these insect larvae. I see squirrels and jays carrying off acorns to cache for the winter, and I am sure they would be disappointed to discover later on that most of their acorns had spoiled. Are they able to tell which ones are free from larvae inside? It would be interesting to investigate their stash and see.
White-breasted Nuthatch Caching Acorn Pieces
As I enter the arboretum, I hear the call of the white-breasted nuthatch as it merrily explores its world among the trees. Lately, I have seen it flying down to the road in the turnaround loop at the entrance. Acorns that have dropped onto the road are being broken open as vehicles drive over them. The nuthatches are picking up the pieces and caching them. It is interesting to watch them choose a spot to hide the acorn chunk. They will seemingly audition a few hiding places before finally settling on a spot. Besides looking for the best-protected area to ensure that its morsel of food stays unspoiled, I also imagine it might do this if it thinks it has been seen hiding its acorn that could potentially be taken by another animal. I saw this one stuff it in a couple of different places under a carpet of mosses before it finally decided on a crevice under a broken limb. After it wedged the bit of acorn in the crack, it collected some moss and stuffed it in to further protect and conceal the acorn. I love watching these birds. For me, their calls ringing across the landscape are an integral part of the spirit of the arboretum.
Flickers Rivalry Dance
I was on the arboretum bird walk this month and watched a couple of flickers performing their display that is used for courtship and territorial defense. In early spring or summer during courtship, they will face off in this display usually while a prospective mate watches. Since it is October, I imagine these two were engaged in territorial defense. The Cornell Lab’s All About Birds describes this display thus: “Two birds face each other on a branch, bills pointed upward, and bob their heads in time while drawing a loop or figure-eight pattern in the air, often giving rhythmic wicka calls at the same time.” They would also fan their tail feathers. The flicker on the right seemed slightly bigger and slowly backed the other one out to the end of the branch. The smaller flicker eventually flew around its rival to a nearby vertical limb. The other flicker followed and they continued their dance circling the limb.
Resources
Northern Flicker Life History, All About Birds, Cornell Lab of Ornithology. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Northern_Flicker/lifehistory. Accessed 25 Oct. 2023.
Chickadees Eating Honeysuckle Berries
I heard the sound of chickadees calling and walked up the path to see what they were up to. They were in a mixed flock of birds that included white-breasted nuthatches, red-breasted nuthatches, brown creepers, ruby-crowned kinglets, golden-crowned kinglets, dark-eyed juncos, bushtits, Townsend’s warblers, Steller’s jays, and a varied thrush. There was a frenzy of activity from the ground all the way into the upper part of the canopy.
The chickadees were eating the bright red honeysuckle berries! (They were also gleaning insects out of the lichen and moss on the tree branches, and eating poison oak berries. Check out the post - 09/26/23.)
The chickadees mostly swooped by or briefly hovered to snag a berry. On occasion, they would grab onto the end of the vine and pluck a berry off. Once they had the berry, they would fly over to a branch to eat it. Afterward, I would see them taking off with one of the seeds up into the tree and returning fairly quickly for another berry. Perhaps they were stashing the seeds somewhere in the tree to eat later.
It was difficult to get these photos and they aren’t the best. The chickadees were so fast at snagging the berries, and it was tricky to anticipate where they were going to be. Plus my camera wants to take its time focusing, so I took a fair amount of blurry chickadee photos as they zipped away or in-focus photos of the berries after the chickadee flew off. There are loads of honeysuckle berries before and after the incense cedar exhibit. Those are good places to post up and potentially watch them eating the berries. Good luck!
Licorice Ferns
Licorice ferns grow on fallen logs, tree trunks, rocks, or on the ground in mossy beds where their roots can be protected. They are considered summer-deciduous here—with the lack of rainfall during the summer, these plants die back. The first rains at the end of summer or the beginning of fall will awaken the new leaves.
They grow from a rhizome that is usually tucked into a bed of moss where it is protected and kept moist. The rhizome has a licorice flavor which is unrelated to the other plants that have a licorice taste such as star anise, fennel, or licorice. Daniel Mathew writes, “In the Northwest, licorice fern rhizomes were sucked by hungry hunters or berry pickers along the trail, or fed before meals to finicky young eaters. In quantity they may prove laxative, but most people find them too bitter to eat in quantity.”
On the mossy log in the last photo, you can see leftover stems where some animal has been eating the new, unfurling leaves at the end. There is no mention in any of my field guides of the leaves or the early shoots being edible for people.
I love the beautiful patterns they make as they grow and overlap in a carpet of lush green on the ground or cascade down the side of a tree. Their vibrant spring green in the fall is uplifting to my spirit as the light wanes into winter.
Resources
Mathews, Daniel. Cascade-Olympic Natural History. Raven Editions in conjunction with the Audubon Society of Portland, 1988.
Prescribed Burn Photo Presentation
There was a prescribed burn in part of the South Meadow recently. Here are some photos I took as I wandered around investigating the aftermath. When I first arrived, a coyote was already on the scene checking it out. At one point I noticed it eating something off the ground. When it eventually meandered across the meadow and into the wetlands, I went over to see what it was eating. Interestingly, I found a pile of charred blackberries on which it was foraging. I looked for grasshoppers that had been toasted in the fire. A sign out at the arboretum says that native people used to collect grasshoppers after they burned grassland areas. I had trouble locating any grasshoppers. I found a few by following yellow jackets that were harvesting them. Surprisingly, I did find quite a few millipedes that had died from the fire. The third photo reminds me of a glowing ember and looks like a praying mantis cocoon. As I walked around, I occasionally flushed a small moth that patiently allowed its photo to be taken. Moths are quiet and mysterious. There were small spiders roaming around. As the sun lowered in the sky, I could see their silk strands had already extensively been sewn across the ground. The teasel plant is an invasive biennial plant that has established itself in the meadow. I imagined that a major reason for the burn was to kill many of the first-year teasel plants growing and the seed heads from this year. It rained shortly after the fire, and the teasel rosettes immediately began to sprout new green leaves. So the fire didn’t kill them. Also, the fire didn’t burn the woody flower stalks and the seed heads at the top of them from this year. So those seeds are still viable. Why didn’t the folks who performed this prescribed burn make sure these seed heads were burned? I scraped away the blackened grass and noticed that there was a small layer of grass that was unburned and many various plant seeds remained unharmed on the ground. Under the deer scat the grass was unburned. I also turned over rocks in the meadow and saw that the ground underneath was protected and unburned. I saw flocks of juncos out there eating the seeds. In the last photo, it shows the edge of the burn. The unburned area is thickly thatched with grass. So the burn did accomplish opening up the ground to allow more plants to sprout and grow. It will be interesting to see what plants repopulate the area. Will more native plants be able to grow or will nonnative plants dominate?
These are a few of my observations and thoughts I wanted to quickly scribble down to pique your interest. I would love to be on the team of people who investigate the flora and fauna after a forest fire. I am sure there are so many fascinating discoveries to be made.
Antlions
Adult female antlions lay eggs singly in sandy or loose soil. When the egg hatches, the larva digs a conical pit and hides just below the surface at the bottom. When an ant or small insect falls into the pit, the antlion grabs its prey with its jaws (mandibles), pierces its body, and drags it below the surface. The hollow barbs or spurs on the jaws can both inject and suck. They inject poison to immobilize their prey and enzymes to break down the internal tissues. When the antlion finishes sucking the juices out of its prey, it will cast the insect out of the pit and wait for the next one. I found a couple of shriveled-up ants on the top of one of the cones.
Along some of the paths at the arboretum, you will find these pits, usually protected under the canopy of trees. I have often seen these pits in soil under the eave of a house or barn where it is sheltered and stays dry.
When the larvae are ready to become adults, they dig deeper into the soil and form a round cocoon made of sand and silk. After about a month, the insect emerges as an adult to mate and repeat the cycle. The adult has a long, skinny abdomen with four narrow, veined wings and resembles a damselfly. The antlion is differentiated from a damselfly by its prominent clubbed or curved antennae. Also, the antlion rests its wings back in an A-frame fashion, and a damselfly holds them together. I have been looking around to find one to photograph, but I haven’t found one yet.
To find the antlion larva, I took a spoon and scooped the ground underneath and around the pit. I didn’t want to hurt it or have it retreat into the soil if I tried to extract it directly from the pit. I put the scoop in a little sieve and gently sifted out the dirt. I was left with tiny stones, flecks of wood, and other debris. It took me a minute to locate the antlion larva because it blended in so well with this assortment of organic matter. I gently moved it onto a leaf and then onto the ground. I was surprised by how cooperative it was in being handled and photographed. I sat beside it and watched it, hoping to see it make its pit. After about 10 to 15 minutes, it slowly retreated to slightly below the surface. I waited for a little longer, but it didn’t move. I marked the spot and returned the next day to find that it had remade its pit and was waiting at the bottom. I love this insect! I hope to see you out there.
Resources
Antlion. https://texasinsects.tamu.edu/neuroptera/antlion/. Accessed 11 Oct. 2023.
“Antlion Adults.” Missouri Department of Conservation, https://mdc.mo.gov/discover-nature/field-guide/antlion-adults. Accessed 11 Oct. 2023.
Antlions | Nebraska Extension in Lancaster County. https://lancaster.unl.edu/pest/resources/antlions.shtml. Accessed 11 Oct. 2023.
More Birds Eating Red-osier Dogwood Berries
These are not the best photos, but I wanted to document and share what other birds are eating the red-osier dogwood berries. Over the past couple of weeks, I have seen warbling vireos, Swainson’s thrushes, and varied thrushes eating the berries. These birds are a little shier than the robin I took photos of eating these berries in a previous post. They tended to either eat berries more towards the inside of the bush where there was good cover, or they would pluck a berry from the outer limbs and retreat into the bush to eat it. A few times they briefly ate a few berries out where I could get a photo. I also had to stay back a little ways when taking the photos, otherwise, they withdrew back to the inside of the shrub. I am not sure what it is about this particular red-osier dogwood shrub that has drawn so many birds to it. It is definitely loaded with berries and maybe its close proximity to the water has made the berries tastier and juicier.
Curiously, there has been lots of cedar waxwings flying around in the vicinity, but I haven’t seen any of them eating the berries yet. I would think that these berries are part of their diet.
Virginia Rail Walking
I have been revisiting the wetlands to hopefully watch the Virginia rail. I have been lucky enough to see it again! It has been venturing a little farther into the open, and I got to see it walking around and foraging. One of the things I noticed is that sometimes the rail used its whole foot as it walked through the wetlands.
Most birds are digitigrade animals which means that they walk around on their toes, not the entire foot. The backward-bending joint that looks like a knee is actually the bird's ankle. The rail mostly walked around on its toes. However, it often moved or stood in a kind of crouched position and engaged its whole foot. This seems like it would provide support with balance and stability while walking on slippery surfaces. I could also see it useful when stalking, lunging at prey, or leaning forward to probe around with its bill. Additionally, the rail has long toes which helps distribute its weight when walking on soft surfaces like the muddy bottom of a marsh. I imagine that long toes with claws further aid in stabilizing and gripping slippery stems and leaves of lilies like in the wetlands.
Chickadees Eating Poison Oak Berries
When I awoke, the land was damp from overnight showers and the sweet smell of the earth filled the air. The rain has arrived just in time to herald the beginning of fall. It was a cool, cloudy morning, and I went for a walk at the arboretum. I ambled up the creek trail to the joyous vocals of the black-capped chickadees celebrating the rain’s return. They were bursting with energy as they bounced back and forth between the tree canopy and the understory. As I rounded a corner on the path, I could see that they were foraging poison oak berries. They quickly would fly down to a cluster of berries, pluck one, and fly over to a nearby branch to eat it. This patch of poison oak has lost its leaves, so it was easy to see the chickadees eating the berries. I also became more aware that the leafless poison oak blended in more with its surroundings as the chickadees circled all around me eating berries.
Mixed in this whirling eddy of chickadees along the creek trail were many other birds. Red-breasted nuthatches were looping around the trunks and limbs of trees. Two downy woodpeckers were actively pounding on dead branches. A brown creeper was hopping up a tree probing the nooks and crannies of the bark. Steller’s jays were at the top of the canopy collecting acorns. A western screech owl was sleeping in the entrance of a tree cavity. A couple of spotted towhees were scratching around in the leaves on the ground. A Bewick’s wren was bouncing around an Oregon ash looking for something to eat. It was a rollicking fall festival!
Happy fall! Happy birding! See you out there!
