Red-headed Woodpecker
The temperature was hovering just below freezing and I was going on my sixth hour of sitting in my four foot by four foot nylon blind waiting. This is when this job gets a little mind numbing. I was waiting to photograph an elusive bird when I realized a question kept running through my head over and over–when is a woodpecker not a woodpecker? I answered myself–when it is a Red-headed Woodpecker. Perfect theme for this week’s column. So here it goes. As far as a species goes, I think the Red-headed Woodpecker is the woodpecker most unlike other woodpeckers. Let me explain. Lately I have been concentrating my photographic efforts on a specific species–the Red-headed Woodpecker (Melanerpes erythrocephalus). This means I spend day after day sitting in my blind watching and waiting for the woodpeckers to come close enough to photograph. It allows me endless hours to watch their every movement and interaction. At night I spend time researching and reading what others have observed about the species. I also read all the research papers that have been published about the species. The next day I go back and sit and watch and wait some more. (Of one interesting note, this specie is one of the least studied woodpeckers in North America.) I find several things most intriguing. When compared to other species of woodpecker the Red-headed Woodpecker is very unique, for example, one of the first things I noticed is when the Red-head lands on a small branch or twig it lands perpendicular to the branch. All other woodpeckers will land parallel to the branch. So in other words they perch more like a song bird than a woodpecker. When feeding during winter, Red-heads prefer to feed on the ground hopping around like a robin. They are only one of three species of woodpecker that feeds on the ground. During fall and winter their preferred food sources are nuts such as acorns and hickory nuts. In fact they are dependent upon these foods. So much so they gather large quantities of the nuts and store them for later consumption. Red-headed Woodpeckers are only one of four species of woodpecker that will store food for later consumption. Keep in mind there are nearly 200 species of woodpecker in the world and only four of them store food. This is a very unusual behavior. During the summer the redhead changes their diet to mostly flying insects. In much the same way a flycatcher feeds the Red-headed Woodpecker will sit on a branch, perpendicular, and will wait for a winged insect to fly by and sallies forth to grab its meal. They will also drop to the ground to grab grasshoppers and other large ground dwelling insects. Redheads are also one of the most omnivorous species of woodpecker, eating the eggs of other birds, baby birds and even small mammals such as mice if they find them dead. Unlike most woodpecker species, Red-headed Woodpeckers are monomorphic, which means the males and females look exactly the same. In fact even researchers who have the birds in their hands can’t tell them apart. This is one of the large stumbling blocks to studying this species. Nearly all other species of woodpecker show some difference between the sexes. The population of the Red-headed Woodpecker has fluctuated greatly over the past 200 years. Early European settlers in North American found this bird in great abundance. In the 1840’s, John James Audubon wrote, “I would not recommend to anyone to trust their fruit to the Red-heads for they not only feed on all kinds as they ripen, but destroy an immense quantity besides.” Starting in the early 1900’s the Red-headed Woodpecker numbers started to drop dramatically. Estimates based on some bird surveys indicated that more than a 50 percent drop in Red-headed Woodpecker populations over the past 100 years. At this rate of decrease we may be looking at the extinction of this stunning species in the next 50 years. Until next time…
Short-tailed Shrew
This winter I seem to be seeing more Short-tailed Shrew (Blarina brevicauda) scurrying across the snow then I usually see. Even my daughter reported seeing one of these hyperactive shrews while out sledding the other day. The Short-tailed Shrew is an aggressive predator constantly on the move looking for its next meal. They are a thick and stocky animals with short legs and dark gray fur. They have a long narrow snout filled with needle-sharp teeth and tiny eyes. Their ears are hidden in their fur. They have an excellent sense of smell but poor eyesight. Their common name comes from the animal’s short tail. Most shrews have short tails but this species has a tail that is shorter than most. In fact their species name brevicauda is Latin and means brevis meaning short and cauda meaning tail. The Short-tailed Shrew is probably our most common and abundant mammal in the many parts of the country. It’s found in nearly every habitat. Population densities vary from year to year with populations soaring in some years and crashing in others. They have home ranges of only an acre or more. Territories will overlap and fighting between neighbors is usually short and non-lethal but fairly common. This tiny creature has an enormous appetite. It can eat half its body weight in meat each day. That would be like you and me eating 60 to 80 pounds of food a day. An adult short-tail weights in at .5-1 oz. As a predator the shrew is constantly on the hunt in order to eat. They usually are not scavengers but they will eat what they find. So a dead mouse could be fair game. They also eat insects which are in very short supply during winter so the shrew concentrates most of its time finding mice, voles and other small mammals. Since mice reproduce all year long, baby mice are a favorite food item for the shrew. All species of shrew are solitary but will seek out a mate for breeding and than return to a solitary lifestyle. Interestingly the shrew will fight with other shrew, sometimes to the death, to defend territories, food sources and to protect their young. Fights are loud affairs with a lot of scuffling. You can hear these fights from 10-15 feet away. They don’t last long, less than a minute, and usually don’t result in death but injuries are not uncommon. The shrew has very thick fur that ripples when the animal moves. This thick fur is key to winter survival keeping them warm and dry. Their fur also has a nap that runs both ways allowing them to move effortlessly forward and backwards in narrow tunnels without turning around. Most amazingly the shrew uses ultrasonic sound for echolocation, just like bats. The echolocation detect objects, openings or if something is blocking their tunnels in the blackness of their underground world. The Short-tailed Shrew is also the only mammal with toxic saliva. The toxic bite helps to immobilize and kill its prey. The saliva is both a neurotoxin and hemotoxin, much like snake venom but the shrew cannot inject the toxin into its prey like a snake. It must chew the saliva into a wound in order for it to take effect so some believe it’s not much help to the shrew. It is also not powerful enough to have any affect on humans. The shrew has musk glands that exude an odor thought to repel some predators of shrews such as fox, coyote, and cats which often kill them but rarely eat them. The glands are probably used more for marking territories and sexual recognition than anything else. This winter keep your watchful nature eye to the ground for a fast moving dark object with a short tail. It just might be the Short-tailed Shrew. Until next time…
American Three-toed Woodpecker
This week’s column finds me on a cold and snowy forest service road in Northern Minnesota where only a single logging truck loaded with freshly cut timber has come down the road in the past 7 hours. I arrived at day break to a silent spruce and tamarack forest. The sky was uniform gray which is par-for-the-course since we haven’t seen the sun in weeks. All in all, it’s a typical winter day in the northland. The air is calm and cold—around 20 degrees F. Perfect conditions for a day in the woods. What brings me to this far flung remote area is the American Three-toed Woodpecker (Picoides dorsalis). This medium sized woodpecker (8 inches in length) is the northern most nesting of all the woodpeckers in North America. It ranges throughout Canada and Alaska during summer but during winter a few make their way south to the northern reaches of Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan. I step into the woods, snow crunching under my boot. I walk a hundred yards or so, stopping every fifty feet to listen for the tell-tailed sound of this boreal bird–tap-tap-tap in an uneven succession. Right away, I find my first woodpecker but it’s not a three-toe. It is a Black-backed Woodpecker, a close cousin to the three-toe and also an uncommon woodpecker. In fact at one time the Black-backed and the Three-toed were considered the same species. To me they look so different that I am not sure how anyone could have thought these two woodpeckers are the same. I move deeper into the forest, keeping in mind which direction I am traveling so I might find my way back to my truck. This is not a place to get lost in the middle of winter. I have my pockets stuffed with food and water, extra gloves and hat. My cell phone only works when I get near the road so I am prepared as well as I can be. For once I think, I which I had a hand held GPS. A flock of fifty or more Black-capped Chickadees finds me and gathers above my head on the branches of the trees to check me out. They give their “fee-bee” and “chickadee” calls over and over then move off into the forest. I love the chickadees energy and tenacity. Off in the distance I can hear the faint tapping and pealing of tree bark. I move closer and sure enough it’s the American Three-toed Woodpecker that I have come to photograph. I lift my camera and tripod off my shoulder and start to set up. Most woodpeckers have four toes on each foot, however evolution has lead to the loss of the first toe, called a hallux, in the American Three-toed Woodpecker, hence the name. There are woodpeckers in the Old World (Europe) which have three toes which is why ours is called the “American” Three-toed. In the New World (the Americas) the only other woodpecker with three toes is the Black-backed Woodpecker. The American Three-toed Woodpecker inhabits dense boreal conifer forests and favor mature or older growth forest with plenty of standing dead or dying trees. They also like areas where fire and insect disease have taken their toll on the trees. One look around and anyone can see the trees in this part of forest are all dead and the woodpeckers are concentrating their efforts on these trees. They are feeding on the larval stage (grub) of a bark beetle. The woodpeckers chisel off small sections of bark to reveal the tiny grub hidden in the larval galleries in the cambium layer of the tree. In just one minute I recorded a single woodpecker exposing and eating 6 grubs. I pull out my pocket knife and pry off a small flake of bark myself. I am able to find 3 grub in less than a minute. The woodpeckers are much more efficient than I. By my calculations a single woodpecker can gather about 5 grub per minute which is about 300 per hour. In the 7 hours I have been watching and photographing these birds they took only one break which lasted less than 5 minutes. So over the past 7 hours each bird found and consumed a little over 2,000 grubs. Not a bad day at work for these birds. I often think what our insect population would be like if it weren’t for the birds who are constantly feeding on insect eggs, larva and adults. By the middle of the afternoon its getting too dark to photograph, as it does at this time of the year in the northland. I gather up my camera gear and head back to my truck. The woodpeckers don’t miss a beat. Even in the ensuing darkness they are still chiseling away at the bark and pulling one last grub before night. Until next time…
Owling Arizona
It was a warm and slightly breezy evening. Temperatures were hovering at a comfortable 65 degrees. Perfect for a night hike to search for owls in the desert mountains. The stars were blazing bright above us and I could see the winter-time constellation—Orion reminding me it was indeed winter. The warm nights are the best part of owling in Southeastern Arizona in winter. I am in the company of Arizona’s “Owl Guy”, Rick Bowers who is by far one of the most experienced wildlife photographer and bird experts in Southeastern Arizona. We are hiking down a very narrow trail in the mountains with a bright moon to guide our way. We stop every so often to listen for the tell tale call of the Whiskered Owl, a tiny owl of oak forests at elevations around 5,000 feet. The call of this tiny owl is a soft steady hoot that becomes irregular and resembles something like Morse Code when the owl becomes excited. As we walk I only here the sounds of our footstep, no owls. Finally we hear our tiny quarry near the top of an Alligator-bark Juniper about 12 feet off the ground. These evergreen trees grow on the banks of the small stream that cascades down the mountain. We approach the owl and for the first time we switch on our over-sized flash light. There in the beam of the light is the elusive Whiskered Owl calling from his perch. I quickly set up my camera and flash gear and attach it to my tripod. I peer thought the camera lens and manually focus. My flash pops and lights this tiny section of the valley. What a sight, a beautiful tiny owl in wonderful mountain setting. We turn off the flashlight and give each other high fives before heading back down the trail to our car. Wow what a great owl. Day two of owling in Arizona is clear and warm and the sun is shining bright. We drive out to a remote mountain valley where a very special owl resides—the Spotted Owl (Mexican subspecies). Yes, the very same controversial Spotted Owl you have heard about in the past only it located in the southwest. The drive up the valley is very bumpy with several washes where water flows over the road. We park and gather up our camera gear and some water for the long hike up the valley. The trail is a narrow path no wider than our foot steps and travels along a dry stream bed. We traverse over large and small boulders and use tree trunks as hand holds to help pull ourselves up. As usual the camera gear is getting heavy. The elevation is slightly over 5,000 feet and the temperatures have dipped into the 40’s and the wind picks up as we climb higher. We stop occasionally where the habitat looks good to check for the owls. When we can get no higher we fan our and start a tree by tree search for the owls. Within 10-15 minutes we find the owl not in a tree but sitting on a rock of the steep sided canyon wall, trying to stay out of the wind. We set up the camera gear once again and snap off some great images. The owl hears something and flies off but doesn’t go far. We move down and take a few more pictures. We share another high five and get ready for the long hike down back to the car. Day three finds us on the road again this time we are going to hit several places in one day (daylight) for as many owls as we can find in one day. First stop is an abandoned bridge in the middle of the desert. Sheltered underneath the dilapidated bridge are two Barn Owls sleeping. Very cool! Second stop is a wonderful Inn in the middle of the desert that rents rooms to bird watchers. We amble over to their large pole barn where two adult barn owls are roosting in the rafters. After that we drive over to the final stop of the day, a wildlife management area. Nearing sunset we hike out with our cameras to a grove of trees where owls are known to roost. We find at least 3 Long-eared Owls, 2 Great Horned Owls and 5 or more Barn Owls. At sunset the Great Horn owl takes flight first and perches briefly on the roof of an old abandoned shed. He then flies out to the grove of trees and perches at the top of a tall tree and is silhouetted against the orange glow of the desert setting sun. Next the Barn Owls give a few hoarse calls before taking flight. They fly in several tight circles before landing back in the trees. They do this several times before taking off across the desert in search of a meal. Lastly the Long-eared owls begin to stir. Suddenly they blast out of the thick vegetation and head out for a night of hunting. A day of three species of owl. We are dog tired and head back for a couples hours of sleep before getting up before sunrise for another day of photography. For the next three days we head up high into the Arizona mountains near the Mexican boarder for more Spotted Owls and Whiskered Owls. Each night we stand outside in the cool mountain air under a sky filled with stars and listen for the calling of owls. Once again we locate a Whiskered Owl and we set out again to see if we can’t capture another image of these elusive birds of the night. This goes on for the next three nights until we are so exhausted we head back to town. Over all a very successful owl trip. For more information on how you can take a owl trip to SE Arizona and see some of these images from this trip visit my web page. Until next
Sandhill Cranes in Nebraska
We wake pre-dawn and gather our equipment in preparation for a morning with the Sandhill Cranes of Nebraska. I am in the company of 12 crane watchers from the Twin Cities area to witness the annual migratory phenomena of the Sandhill Crane (Grus Canadensis) After parking our group huddles together and in hushed tones about some basic rules before walking single file the half mile to our wooden two story blind on the river. As we approach the blind the sound of the cranes intensifies and our hearts begin to race with anticipation. We tiptoe into the blind and open the small viewing ports which reveal the river and cranes in front of us. It is still very dark and we can only see vague shapes of the birds and the reflection of the morning sky in the shallow meandering river. Now we just have to wait for the sun to rise to reveal the majesty of the crane before us. The eastern sky glows in tones of orange and red as the sun comes up. It is cool but comfortable and the wind is non-existent, a perfect morning on the Platte River. An estimated 15-17 thousand cranes are milling about in the water before us. Some are renewing their pair bonds with each other by dancing while others are squabbling and fighting. Still others are preening their feathers in preparation of the day’s feeding activities. Our group is awe-struck and even thought I have been coming here for the past 15 or more years I am also awe-struck. What we are witnessing is the annual migration of the Sandhill Crane–a four foot tall elegant crane with a red cap and yellow eyes. For the past 20,000 years cranes have been coming to this stretch of the Platte River in central Nebraska. The shallow slow moving water spreads out across a wide flat area creating many large sandbars creating perfect habitat for roosting cranes. Cranes spend their winter in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and northern Mexico. During mid to late February they fly 600-1000 miles in a one day non-stop flight to a small stretch of about 65-80 miles of the Platte River. This is a migratory bottle neck concentrating about 600,000 cranes in one place at one time representing about 90 percent of the worlds Sandhill Cranes. From here they fly for several days to a week to reach their breeding grounds in Canada and Alaska. Over a 6 to 8 week period of time each spring the cranes forage in the surrounding agricultural fields to feed on spilled grains and corn. Groups ranging from 50 to several thousand birds gather in the stubble of corn fields. Some look for food while others pair off and dance and display for each other. They spend the entire day moving from field to field gathering strength in preparation for the long flights to their nesting grounds. Each evening after a day of feeding the cranes lift off the fields and fly in large groups back to the safety of the Platte River. Long lines of cranes fly like ribbons in the sky against the orange glow of the evening sky. Slowly and deliberately the cranes circle down and gently come to rest on the sandbars of the river for another night on the Platte. Back in our blind our group spots a nearly all white crane mixes in with the hoards regular colored cranes. Some of the birds are taking flight in the early morning light. The sun is above the horizon and we have full view of massive group of birds before us. If we scan with our binoculars and spotting scopes to our right we see one solid mass of birds. It looks like a large gray mass consisting of thousands of crane heads. There are no spaces between the birds. It is an impressive sight. Over the next hour or so the cranes turn to face into the slight breeze and file out of the river in groups of 20 to 50. Some birds fly right past our blind at eye level giving us wonderful views of these majestic birds. They are constantly calling and the sound a group of this size makes is impressive. As the last of our cranes leave the group exits the blind and gathers in the early morning light to talk over the experience. Most of us are speechless and still basking in the glow of the moment. Warm smiles seem to be the order of the morning. We have just witnessed one of North America’s most ancient and spectacular natural phenomena. I am sure it will last in the memories of our group for the rest of their lives. Until next time…
Missed Shot
As of late I have been writing in this column about travel and “getting the shot”. As a wildlife photographer, getting the shot is about the only thing that matters. Well, this week I am going to break with recent history and interject some major league reality. This week’s topic is about “not” getting the shot. It all started about six years ago when I built a blind on a local pond with the plan of getting some images of a Belted Kingfisher (Ceryle alcyon). This is a fairly large bird, about 12-13inches in length that hunts for small fish along the edges of streams, lakes and ponds, just like the pond where I have my blind. When I first built the blind I would spend days in the blind waiting for the Belted Kingfisher to come by so I could get a shot. What I got was a big fat nothing. In fact, after a while I completely gave up on the Kingfisher and for several years I didn’t even try. Then last year I was so determined to “get the shot” of this bird that I built a special perch directly in front of the blind for the Kingfisher to land and hunt for his favorite food—small fish. Days and weeks go by and again nothing. This spring I changed around my perch in hopes of making it more attractive. I could hear and see a Kingfisher near my pond but still nothing. Then one afternoon while I was not in the blind I saw the Kingfisher come in and land on my perch. Right where I wanted him to land. He sat there on my perch looking perfect then he dove head first into the water after a fish and then flew right back up onto my perch and sat there just as I had envisioned it in my head a hundred times. Needless to say I ran and quickly gathered up my camera gear and headed out to the blind. I was filled with great anticipation of finally “getting the shot” I have been dreaming about for the past six years. Quickly and very quietly I made my way through the woods and into the blind. I sat down and passed my camera lens through the opening in the front of the blind and readied my camera. I took care to pre-focused on the perch so that when the bird lands I will have the bird already in the frame. I thought to myself, ok this is it, I am going to get the shot. I sat quietly while the first hour passed by, then the second hour ticked by and the third hour. Meanwhile every other bird and mammal species known to man-kind either flew by or swam past my blind, but no Kingfisher. I took some pictures of a Muskrat that was swimming by. He looked like he was having a bad hair day and it made me laugh to myself. A pair of Wood Ducks swam past. I took some pictures of them. The ducks flew up into a tree and sat for a long time. A pair of Mallards fell asleep on a log and snoozed away the afternoon. I too fell asleep for a short while. When I woke up there was still no Kingfisher. While I was sitting there completely dejected, I thought about my column. “Now what am I going to write about?” I certainly can’t write about the Kingfisher since I still don’t have “the shot”. Completely broken, I packed up my camera gear and headed back to my truck. While walking back I thought just how often I don’t “getting the shot”. I know the realities all too well but I am not sure anyone else knows. I thought of the time I spent seven days in my blind for 8 hours a day waiting for a Northern Goshawk to land on my perch and nothing happened. Or the time I drove across country to photograph a Big Horn Sheep in the Rocky Mountains for the cover one of my books but could never find a big ram to photograph. Or the time I went to Isle Royal to photograph bull Mouse but only found cow Moose. The list of “not getting the shot” goes on and on. So next week I will try the Kingfisher again and maybe, just maybe I will get lucky. Heck it’s only been six years that I have been waiting, what’s another week. Until next time…
Baby Animals
Spring brings us many gifts of nature, colorful flowers, pleasant smells, warm winds, and multitudes of baby birds and animals in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Each year, naturalist like myself and wildlife rehabilitators get hundreds of calls about “abandoned” young animals and birds and I am sure this spring will be no different. So let’s take a look at some of the do’s and don’ts for the next time you find a baby animal or bird in your yard. Your actions might make the difference between life and death. Before you rush to “rescue” a bird or animal the first thing to do is take a minute to think, is this critter really orphaned? The vast majority of young animals, especially birds, that you might see are not orphaned. It could just be a young fledgling bird waiting for its parents to feed them or a baby animal that is already on its own and doesn’t need it’s parents. The key here is to stand back and observe the critter and allow enough time and space to let the parent come back. Let’s take a closer look at what to do if you find a baby bird. A baby bird that is lacking a complete coat of feathers is always better off with its parents so the best thing to do is find the nest from which it came and returning the bird. Don’t worry about the old tale of mother birds rejecting young that has human scent on it. This is completely false. Birds have little if any ability to smell. Birds that have been out of the nest for a while may need some warming up before returning to the nest so you can cup them in your hands before returning to the nest. If the nest has been knocked down, try putting the nest back in the tree. It doesn’t have to be in the exact same place. Birds have great eyesight and will have no problems finding the new location. If the nest has been completely destroyed you can gather some dried grass to line a small plastic margarine tub. Punch a few drainage holes in the bottom and attach it to the tree with a wire in approximately the old place. Replace the young and watch for the parents to return. Just about any bird that is fully feathered doesn’t need any rescuing unless injured. These birds are called fledglings. Take a good look at these birds before deciding to rescue them. If they have feathers covering their entire body and are hopping around on the ground leave them alone. Even if they can’t fully fly they can usually flap enough to reach the lower branches of a shrub or tree hopefully out of the reach of any cat and dog. Fledgling birds are still being fed by their parents. If you don’t see any parents, back away and watch. Mom and dad are probably out getting a bug or worm for junior. If you’re too close, the parents will stay out of sight waiting for a safe time to approach their offspring. Finding baby bunnies in your yard doesn’t necessarily mean they are orphaned. Bunnies that are still in a nest are being cared for by their mother. If the bunny nest has been disturbed you can replace the nesting material and snuggle the babies back into place. If the mother has been killed the babies eyes are still closed you need to take the babies to a wildlife rehabilitator. Baby bunnies that are fully furred with their eyes open and are running around by themselves will be just fine no matter how small they look to you. Baby bunnies leave the nest at a very young age and are capable of taking care of themselves. Even if they look too small to be on their own. Baby squirrels are similar to baby bunnies. If a young squirrel falls from its nest you should put the baby in a cloth lined box and leave it at the base of the tree from which it fell. The mother will come down when it’s safe and carry the baby back to the nest. If the nest has been destroyed put all the babies in the box and wait for the mother to return. The mother will gather up the young one at a time and move them to a new nest. All squirrels have multiple nests and she will simply move the young. If the parent has been killed the young squirrels should be brought to a wildlife rehabilitator. This spring when you see a young bird, rabbit or squirrel in your yard, stop and think before you jump to the rescue. If you need additional advice from a licensed wildlife rehabilitator look in your telephone book under wildlife or contact you local animal humane society or nature center. Until next time….
Florida Palm Trees
This week’s column comes from the sunny and warm shores of Sanibel Island Florida. I unfortunately had to come to this location because I am working on a new field guide about the trees of Florida. Oh poor me. All things consider, the trees found in Florida are an intriguing mix of eastern deciduous forest trees which are found all across eastern US, such as maples, oaks and elms. But Florida also has tropical and sub-tropical trees along with palms found no where else in the US. An interesting mix of trees indeed. I, however, am here for the topical trees and in particular the palms. Palm trees have long been associated with Florida’s sunny beaches. It’s not hard to envision swaying palm trees on a sandy beach or palm lined boulevards. But has Florida always been one of the palm capitals of North America? The answer is yes and no. World wide there are as many as 3,000 species of palm tree with only a handful that are native to the United States, and most are restricted to the warmer regions of southern Florida and California. There are only eight species of palm native to Florida with another three species (total of 11) that have escaped cultivation and are now naturalized in the state. (Naturalized means the plant is now surviving and reproducing on its own in the wild without the aid of people.) All of these palms are found in the southern half of the state where freezing temperatures are not as much a threat. It should be noted that there are about 25 species of palm that are grown and sold in nurseries for commercial use in the state. Most of these cultivated species come from all across the tropical parts of the world such as Cuba. Back in 1953, the state legislature voted to designate the Sabal Palm (Sabal palmetto) as the official state tree. The Sabal Palm can be found just about everywhere in the southern half of the state. Palms are a very unique tree. They are considered phylogenetically more advanced than Pines, and other evergreen trees and they exhibit a very different appearance than other deciduous trees. Let’s talk a look at some of those differences. The trunk of a palm tree is not divided into bark and wood as in other trees. Instead, they have only an outer shell and an inner cylinder, both of which are composed to living tissue. In other trees only the thin lining just under the bark is living with the “wood” center being dead. Also the trunk grows from the center out increasing the girth of the tree without shedding their outer layer as in other trees. Another major difference between palms and other trees is their unbranching trunk. Palm trees grow upward from a single terminal bud with a collection of leaves found in the end or top of the tree. As the tree grows the lowest leaves are replaced by new leaves erupting from the top center of the tree. The older lower leaves will dry and turn brown before falling off. Some species of palm retain their old brown leaves giving the tree the appearance of wearing a brown grass skirt. All palm trees can be divided into two major groups based on the type of leaf. The first group has palmate or fan-shaped leaves. These leaves are characterized by a leaf structure in which all of the leaf segments arise from a single point in the center of the leaf. Similar to the fingers on your hand, all of which originate from a single point, your palm. The second group is pinnate leaves. These kinds of leaves are characterized by leaves with a row of narrow leaflets (smaller leaves) arising from each side of a central stalk, similar in design to a feather. So there you have it, the palms of Florida in a coconut shell, if you will. The next time you visit the wonderful state of Florida be sure to take a moment and admire the palms. Until next time…
Eastern Screech Owl
Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that I love all birds but there is one special group of birds that I stand partial towards–the owls. For as long as I can remember owls and other raptors have held a special place in my naturalist heart. I have traveled thousands of miles and hiked many miles more to see and photograph owls all over this country. They are just one of those birds that really excite me. I am not the only one who finds owls captivating. I know many who are just as enthralled as I am with these birds. One of the things that I find so interesting about owls are that some species are so tiny such as the Elf Owl which is only 6 inches tall while others are so large such as the Great Gray Owl which stands over two feet tall. Even though there is a large size difference these owls share many common features. For the past two years I have been fortunate enough to be able to do an in-depth study and photograph, with the aid of some modern technology, of a nesting pair of Eastern Screech Owls. These small owls have been very accommodating and tolerant of my efforts to learn more about their behavior. It all started last year when a wonderful retired couple contacted me to stay they had an owl roosting in one of their Wood Duck boxes. It was late winter so I stopped by to take a look. Sure enough an Eastern Screech Owl (gray morph) had taken up winter residency in one of the wood duck boxes. On sunny days she would sit with her face out of the hole allowing me several nice opportunities to photograph it. Later, towards spring a second owl, this time a red morph, showed up and was also roosting in a near by nest box. The home owner and I went around and looked in all the nest boxes to determine which one they where using for nesting. We installed a tiny infra-red camera that is capable of seeing in the dark in the nest box. We ran a wire from the nest box into the home and hooked it up to the VCR and TV. Just like that we had a window into the private life of this pair of owls. It wasn’t long before the female started laying eggs. We watched as each day she would lay another ping-pong sized and shaped egg until she had a total of four eggs. Over the next month we watch as she preformed what I think is an amazing feat—incubating the eggs. Incubating may seem like a simple and mundane process but in many respects it’s another example of how amazing mother nature can be. Think about it; if “you” sat down for a month, as this bird does, with only a few minutes break each day, your muscles would atrophy (weaken) to the point where you would need to learn how to walk all over again. During this month long incubation the eggs need to be kept near 99 degrees F which is a degree warmer than our own body core temperature. Owls average around 104 F body core temperature. The female does all of the incubating. The male will bring her food which she sometimes carries off to consume someplace else or will stay in the box to eat. Twenty six days after she started incubating the camera showed us the hatching of the four owl chicks. As each egg hatched the mother eat the egg shells presumably to regain the calcium that she lost while producing the eggs. Each tiny owl chick comes into this world with its eyes sealed shut and sparsely feathered. The mother continues to sit on the chicks to keep them warm. This is called brooding. For the first week or so of their lives the tiny owls have no ability to regulate their body temperature so brooding is extremely important. If the chicks become cold they will be too weak to lift their heads and feed. Without feeding they will become even weaker and cool off even more and will soon die. The male brings the female and the chicks their food. He flies up to the nest box and quickly deposits whatever morsel he has caught into the nest hole. Usually it is a large insect such as a moth, but he also brought in many mice and small birds. Each food drop is accompanied by a lot of calling by the female. Night after night he faithfully brings in enough food for the chicks and the mother. The mother tears up the food items and feeds the hungry owlets. After only a week the female leaves the box and the young start to feed themselves on whatever the parents drop into the box. By the third week the young have grown enough to leave the safety of their nest box and join the world. We were extremely fortunate enough to have the same pair of birds return to the same nest box this year but this time laid six eggs. Again with the aid of the infra-red camera we watched. Tragedy stuck when during one of the nights when we were not watching four of the six eggs went missing. We don’t know if it was a raccoon but that is my guess. Shortly after the two remaining eggs hatched. We were thrilled again. I still see each bird hatching as a miracle and this year was no different. As I write this the two young owls are growing and stretching their wings in preparation for their first flight out of the box. Once again I feel as proud as the owl parents. Until next time…
Purple Martin
Birds and the fashion world have had a long history together. Throughout the 1800’s all manor of bird was hunted and killed just for their feathers. The Great Egret, a large all white heron like bird with long white plums was nearly hunted into extinction just so their feathers could adorn woman’s hats. In fact the name “Egret” comes from the French word aigrette, which means “ornamental tufts of plumes”. The plumes grow near the tail of the bird during the breeding season and are very attractive. Many species of bird were heavily hunted for the fashion industry and some were nearly driven into extinction during the 1800’s. However during the early to mid 1900’s several laws were passed to protect non-game species and we have seen a return of many of these species. Bird watching has also been fashionable over the years. For example in the early 1900’s, putting up a Purple Martin house became very fashionable. People would build a martin house out of wood and put it up in their yards and farms. There were huge advertisement campaigns which extolled the virtues of having martins, the largest member of the swallow family, around your home. These ads said that martins would eat thousands of mosquitoes each day. Who wouldn’t like to have a mosquito eating machine flying around their home? (By the way, it turns out that only 10 percent of their diet consists of mosquitoes.) People responded by put up thousands of martin houses. These multi-compartment homes popped up all across the U.S. They became so fashionable that companies started to manufacture martin houses. Attracting and watching martins became a national obsession. It was so successful that all of these new homes actually changed the behavior of the entire species. By the mid 1900’s it was estimated that the entire population of Purple Martin in the eastern half of the country, which for thousands of years had nested in natural tree cavities, switched over to man-made nesting cavities. I am sure many of the readers of this column can remember their parents or grandparents who had martin houses and can attest to how common it was to put up martin houses. Then something happened. I am not sure if it was World War II, or the economy or just what changed, but the fashion winds started to blow a different direction and putting up martin houses suddenly stopped. Neglected martin houses were taken over by House Sparrows, which at the time were expanding their range all across the U.S.. Wooden martin houses started to rot and fall apart and people lost interest in the natural insect controller. Purple Martins where no longer fashionable. The over all population of martins dropped dramatically. Fast forward to present day and not much as changed. Martin numbers are still low and they are still nesting in man-made nesting cavities. In fact it is estimated that the entire population of Purple Martins in the eastern half of the country only nests in man-made cavities. They no longer nest in tree cavities as they did in the past. Apparently there are some martins in the western half of the country that still nest in natural cavities but that is about it. During the winter two years ago I fixed up an old damaged metal martin house that someone was throwing out and I installed it at our lake cabin. I mounted it at the end of our dock on a tall telescoping pole. That spring, to my astonishment, several pair of martins showed up and started to construct their nests and lay eggs. I was thrilled. Three families called the end of my dock home. They raised their babies and all was right with the world. This past winter I fixed up my beat up old metal martin house again and also added a couple of plastic gourds in hopes of gaining extra space for more martin families. Again this spring three families showed up and took up residency. As I sit here on my deck in the early morning light I can see and hear my martins calling back and forth as they come in for a landing on my old martin house. They are carrying insects to feed the young which have yet to see the world outside of their small cavity. I hope, that maybe, just maybe the Purple Martin will again be the darling of the bird world and it will be once again fashionable to put up a martin house and people will become the caretaker of this wonderful bird. Until next time…