Bird on a Wire

Here is a mourning dove, photographed in late winter -  bill tucked, and feathers puffed for maximum insulation.

Asleep

I love mourning doves.  I love the soft cooing and comforting, pigeony sounds they make.  I love their sweet, muted coloring, and the way they gather at the bottom of the drive to peck at the gravel and take dust baths.  And I love the whirring, whistley sound they make when they take flight.  They are long-time companions and always lift my spirits when I see or hear them.  It's just so nice to know they are there.

Awake

They are named, of course, for their mournful call, which can sound like someone gently sobbing.

Fully alert and eyeing me as a possible threat.

When researching mourning doves, I was surprised to learn two new things about them.  One is that they are a game bird.  I have never known anyone who shot them for sport, so this was news to me.  The other is that their genus name comes from a princess!

Zenaide Laetitia Julie Boneparte was the niece of Napoleon Bonaparte, the Emperor of France.  She married a cousin of hers, named Charles Boneparte, who was also a nephew of the Emperor's.  Charles was a serious ornithologist, and according to Wikipedia, he created the genus Zenaida in her honor.  How's that for romantic?

Marshy Artwork

Besides the beautiful plants and animals at Nahant Marsh, they also have some of the still life variety, painted on the observation blind.  I don't know who the artist was, but I really like the art.  Here are a couple of closeups.

And here's the big panorama.  How many of these creatures can you name?

(Click on the photo to enlarge it.)

Testimony in a Beetle's Name

When you see a ladybug, do you think of the Virgin Mary?

After researching the ladybug on Wikepedia and on the Online Etymology Dictionary, I discovered the following, which I found fascinating.

While the common name for this beetle in North America is ladybug, in England it is called a ladybird.  While I had heard that term before, what I didn't know was this.  It comes from the title, "Our Lady's Bird", in reference to Mary, the mother of Jesus.  Apparently in early paintings, she was often shown wearing a red robe.  This religious connection also shows up in the German name, Marienkafer, which means "Mary's beetle".

I think it is so cool that this humble little beetle that I have known all my life has had this testimony of Jesus Christ encoded in it's name all along.  What a lovely thing to discover!  Now when I see them, I will remember this, and be glad!

Juxtaposition

I am drawn to moments where wildlife and mankind intersect.  Wildlife often thrives in spite of the hand of man on the landscape.  That juxtaposition is what drew my attention to this pelican below, as it swept up the channel.

There is no greenery to be seen.  The gigantic barge rises up behind the pelican, it's scaffolding casting a reflection onto the water - all rusty lines and angles.  And then there's the pelican, placid, white, and rounded, making a contrast and drawing the eye.

Pretty Palette

This handsome fellow was foraging on the edge of the marsh one morning.

He was quite shy to have his picture taken.  Hugging the opposite shore for a long time, he became almost invisible whenever he stopped wading. Finally he ventured further out, where his dark body showed up better against the lighter water.

He was all dressed up, wearing his breeding plumage to impress the ladies, but he was early to the party as there were no dancing partners to be found.  The white outline around his eye distinguishes him, a white-faced ibis, from his cousin the glossy ibis.

Look at the pretty palette his wing feathers make - slate, mauve, light grey, green, tan, brown, maroon, all shimmering in their iridescence.

I was so glad to see him, never having seen one before.  (It surprises me how much more I see, now that I am actually looking!)

The ibis is threatened by the loss of wetlands, and by exotic species, pollution, and pesticides.

In early European records, ibises were called black curlews, but no more.  And even further back in time the name ibis comes from the Egyptian word "hab" which was a sacred bird of the Egyptians.

Odd Leaf

Have you ever seen a leaf like this one before?

I never had, until Hyperion and I were taking a walk recently, in Illinois.  We came upon this tree, and the leaves all looked like they had had their tops cut straight off.  Barring some maniac with scissors, we knew this must be a natural phenomena and took these photos.  I was surprised that Hyperion couldn't identify this tree on sight.

Next came the investigation.  Through very clever deductive work (and some handy field guides, and Google searches), we were able to name our find.  This was yellow poplar.

Yellow poplars are sometimes known as tulip trees.  Their blossoms bear a resemblance to tulips.  They are not true tulips trees, but are really in the magnolia family instead.  They are also sometimes called canoe trees, and I'm sure you can guess why.  These trees are known for their great height - being among the tallest in North America, if not the tallest.  Yellow poplars are not as common as oaks and maples, and are rare west of the Mississippi River.  I was glad to have seen one, and should now be able to identify it any time I run across one in the future.

Something New

I knew when I spotted this duck that I was seeing something completely new to me.  The white crescent on the head gave it away.  But what could it be?

I'm not an expert on ducks, so it wasn't until a pair of them flew away that I had any idea.  As they lifted off, a flash of color that had been concealed under their folded wings let me know.  Blue-winged teal!

I'd never seen these before in the wild, but all that pouring over field guides kicked in and I just knew that's what they were.

This photo (below) shows more of their green color.

Teal are some of the earliest ducks to migrate north in the spring, and to fly south in the fall.  They feed by dabbling in shallow water.  They are small and noisy, and of course, beautifully colored.

The word teal traces back to a Middle Dutch word - "teling", and a Middle Low German word - "telink".  The diminutive suffixes on each of these variations reflects the very small size of this particular duck.

Slate and Gold

The sun was new, and shining across the river.  Between us, there was a pathway of kindled light, like filigree glinting on the water.

Beads of luminescence blazed on the surface, rippling into molten pools of ore, like lava igniting a landscape.

The gilded surface reflected crescendos of light, making me wish I could trip the light fantastic through the cadence of the waves.

Don't Nettle Me

Have you ever brushed past stinging nettle with shorts on?  If so, you have felt all the irritating proof of the interaction.

This is a good plant to know so that you can avoid the painful outcome of contact with it.  Strong identifiers are the highly serrated edges of its leaves, which grow opposite one another up the stem, and the appearance of many fine hairs on its leaves and stem.

In this photo (below) stinging nettle is the prominent plant.  (Note:  There is a little Virginia Creeper growing underneath the nettle, on the lower left-hand side, so don't let that mix you up.)

Stinging nettle is a widespread plant.  The plentiful hairs act like little needles.  They inject chemicals into your skin which cause a painful sting or burning sensation.

Washing with water after contact helps, as do anti-itch compounds, like calamine.  Dock leaves, plantain, and jewelweed are also used in folk remedies to ease the burning.

Past Trails: Timpanogas Cave

Here's a blast from the past!

Look how little the boys are!  This is Jason, Ajax and I several years ago while on the trail at Timpanogas Cave in Utah.  We were there visiting family.  (Hyperion is not shown - he was taking the picture.

And here we are with my sister, who is always hiking trails of her own, and enjoying nature.

She gave us a special tour of the monument, and it was a neat adventure.  I went up to the cave ok.  My only trouble was coming down the trail.  I had the irrational feeling that I was going to fall right off the mountain!  It was either scoot all the way down on my bottom, or face the mountain wall and sidestep my way down, ignoring the vast space beyond my back.  I took the second option!  My kind brother-in-law stayed with me and offered me lots of moral support.  Whew!

Canvasback

I was thrilled one day to spot this Canvasback on one of my walks.  His look is so distinctive that it cannot be mistaken, and when I saw him far out on the water, I knew I was seeing something new to me.

Since it was mating season, I first had this fellow mistakenly married off to a red-headed merganser, but my field guides soon put things to right.  I never did see Mrs. Canvasback.

I've got to share the etymology for this species.  It is called Aythya valisineria, which is the scientific name for wild celery - this duck's favorite food.  The common name refers to the white back and body being colored like canvas, and appearing to be textured like canvas as well.

Not Very Sporting

Someone was clearly out enjoying all the beauties of nature .....

My First Turtle in the Wild

I finally photographed my first turtle in the wild!

I was out walking along a quiet harbor and saw something that seemed to be floating in the water.  Then I noticed that it was moving too fast to just be floating.  I stopped to watch it and realized it was a turtle's head!

I inched closer and photographed the critter.  I didn't know if my photos would show much at all, but when I got home I saw that you could actually see the turtle's shell and feet through the haze of the water.

The turtle was very wary and soon dove for the bottom with a big splash.  I stood still and quiet,  watching for several minutes, but had no luck.  I scanned up and down the shoreline, and way out into the middle of the harbor.  It did not surface again that I could see.  I continued my walk, thinking I probably did not have good enough pictures to identify what kind of turtle it was.

Upon coming back by the harbor on my way out of the park, I walked slowly and scanned the rocky shoreline, hoping against hope to see the reptile.  Knowing how well animals are camouflaged, however, I didn't have much hope.

And then, there it was - sunning itself on a rock!  I began photographing like he was a rock star!  I didn't get much chance, since he slipped into the water again and disappeared.

So here he is - my first turtle in the wild - in all his unsubmerged glory!

This is a painted turtle.  These are the most common turtles in the U.S., in spite of the predation that their nests often undergo by raccoons, snakes and rodents.  Unlike some others of their kind, painted turtles can right themselves when they've been flipped onto their backs.

Their name, Chrysemys picta, comes from the Greek word for gold which is "chryso" and the Latin word for colored, which is "pictus".  These word roots are used in other familiar words, such as chrysalis, and pictograph.

There are four varieties of painted turtles -  the Eastern, Midland, Southern, and Western.  Mine is a Midland turtle, as you can tell by his more dull, grey shell and the lack of distinguishing features that make the other varieties so easy to identify.

Left Behind

Found:  Old, rusty canister on the weathered ruins of a house, way back in the woods.

Who put it there, and what did it originally hold?

Security Camera Eyes

Here's a bunny.  See his eyes?  See how big they are, and how they stick out past the sides of his face?

Eye placement on the sides of the head is a feature that many prey animals have.  They are constantly being stalked from the ground and the air, and need to be able to see what is going on all around them.  Their eyes are set on the sides of their heads, and stick out this way so that they can see what is coming at them, even from behind.

Take a look at this bunny from the back.  You can really see how the eyes protrude from the side of the head, and provide extended viewing capacity.  These are like 360 degree security cameras!

Eye placement is very different in predators.  Their eyes are set more in the front of their heads than on the side, giving them binocular vision.  This helps them greatly to be able to see what it is they are chasing for dinner.  Herbivores like rabbits don't need that so much.  Their food isn't fleeing.  They need a wide field of vision in order to keep a look out for pesky carnivores.

(Many thanks to model, Mr. Pete Kittantale; wardrobe designers Mammals B We; and grooming and hair styling salon Buck Tooth Barbers.)

Trail Project

On a recent Saturday we were at a trail project at an island on the Mississippi.  A scout was leading his Eagle project there.

On previous days, he had led his fellow scouts in clearing weeds and brush from the trail, including lots of poison ivy, putting down weed fabric, and mulching the area.  He had also led them in building sections of a garbage can holder.

On this particular Saturday, they pulled more weeds and roots, put down the remaining weed fabric, installed the double garbage can holder, cleaned up the sign, and put in a retaining wall by the footbridge.  Whew!

I love Eagle projects.  They do so much good for the community, and so much good for the scouts leading them.  It's great to get out and do these kinds of projects.  As you work, you get to visit and tell jokes.  Friendships are strengthened, skills are learned, and people are united in a common cause.  There is a bonding that takes place that happens in no other way.  It's a wonderful thing!

Red-Spotted Purple

"Breathtaking!"

"Exquisite!"

This is what some people are saying about the Red-Spotted Purple.  It may be considered one of the most popular butterflies in the United States.

The top of the butterfly is a lovely iridescent blue, with white spots running down the outer rim of the wings, and with red spots showing through from underneath.

Here's a look at the underside of its wings.  It looks like a completely different butterfly from this view.

It mimics the poisonous Pipevine Swallowtail, which is a great defense mechanism, but is not a swallowtail at all, and is actually from the brush-footed family of butterflies.

Phoebe

This is Phoebe.

She is a pert little bird with a beautiful shape.  Look at her finely formed beak and her delicate feet.  Note the slight ruffle of feather on the back of her large head, which can form a tiny crest when needed.  She is lovely!  If we had a video here, instead of a still photo, you would see her wag her tail up and down.

Don't let her pretty looks fool you, though.  She is a tyrant!

Phoebes hail from the tyrant flycatcher family, called Tyrannidae.  I have always thought this to be such a funny name - as if they were storming around in robes and jeweled crowns, pounding their royal scepters angrily on the ground and shouting "We are not pleased!"  But to the wasps, dragonflies, ticks, moths, and spiders they eat - yes, they are definitely tyrants!

I saw Phoebe flitting about a shelter out at camp, and saw her rise to the rafters. She was eyeing me pretty good, and for good reason too.

She had a nest to guard!

Come to find out, Phoebes are notorious for nesting in man-made structures.  In this way, mankind has been a boon to them.  They don't nest in trees.  In the absence of human structures they build nests in the crags of rocks.  Sometimes they hover for long periods of time as they build a base for their nest, until it is big enough for them to finally rest in.

Phoebes are usually loners, except during mating.  The female builds the nest herself, and often chases the male away during egg laying.  Thus we can be pretty sure that this little Phoebe of ours is a female.

Their nests are made with a base of mud, and are lined with moss and grass.  This nest is spot on, just as if Phoebe had been reading my field guide and following it point by point.

About a week after my initial photos, I returned, and checked out the area.  I was delighted to find these fledgling Phoebes in their nest.  They look strange and gangly now, but will soon form into trim, shapely little birds.  And they will - no doubt - terrorize the local neighborhood insect population.

Phoebe is a name for the Greek moon godess, who is also known as Cynthia.  This name comes from the Greek word "phoibos" which means light and brightness.  It is a fitting name for this little bird, whose most familiar call is "feee-beee" on the edges of forests and near wetlands.

Greens and Oranges

Here are three more photos of the water.

These were taken of the surface of the river with my zoom lens.

The greens and oranges are not algae.  The colors comes from the reflections of the trees above, and a rusty barge anchored across the way.

Decimated Leaves

Found these decimated leaves on a recent walk.

This one looked like a fine net that had been spread over the grass to catch some unwary prey.

My guess is that these leaves were eaten up by Japanese beetles, although I know there could be other culprits out there.

No matter who did it, we are left with nature's negative, showing the fine scaffolding upon which the leaf was built.

Blues & Grays

The wind forms liquid sand dunes on the surface of the pond.

Troughs and ridges form and unform, like waxing and waning tessellations.

The play of shapes and colors mesmerize me, and I want to set sail in their concentric circles.

Pretty Galling

This is a gall - an abnormal growth on a plant.

In this case, the gall was caused by a goldenrod gall fly.

The fly deposited an egg on the goldenrod stem in the spring.  Upon hatching the larva ate its way into the stem and set up house there, causing the plant to produce the gall in reaction to the invasion.

With any luck, the larva will eat the living tissue of the goldenrod plant all summer, and then hibernates there for the winter.  Without luck, it might suffer from one of a variety of unpleasant ends.  Wasps sometimes inject their eggs into these galls, and in such a case it does not end well for the larva.  Also, ice fisherman have been known to cut open these woody galls and use the live grub for bait.  Failing that, the larva may become a snack for some enterprising downy woodpecker this winter.

If, however, the goldenrod gall fly larva lives until next spring, it will chew a tunnel out of the center of the gall, stopping short at the last layer of the now brown gall.  The larva will return to the center of the gall to become a pupa, and will eventually emerge as an adult fly, busting through the last outer layer of the gall.

The new fly will live about ten days - long enough to mate - and the process begins all over again.

Gar

When I came upon this skeletal head on the river, I thought at first glance that it must belong to a shore bird.  I'd been photographing and studying them so much, and admiring their long bills, that I wanted it to be a shore bird's head rather than knew it to be so.

Upon closer examination, it turned out to be a gar, which is a type of fish we have here in the Mississippi.  (Thanks, Hyperion, for the official identification, which as usual, was instantaneous:  Look.  Blink.  "Oh, that's a gar".)

This is probably a short-nosed gar, as opposed to a long-nosed gar.  Either way, I wouldn't want to meet one in a dark alley.  Check out that toothy grin.

Gar, which comes from Old English and German, and means "spear" is related to the name Gary, which means "spear bearer".