More ice from the causeway

I was captivated by the way ice was flowing while out at the Causeway. I wanted each clip to run indefinitely, to be lulled by the lake's monotonous drone of wind and water. Nothing dramatic, just the water's quiet dramatization of winter's cold.

The Three Hares (April 2013)

What: Quite a few things have changed in the woods since last month (see list below), but don't show up so much in the video. And it's been a year since I started posting (141 posts so far). Last March was significantly different than this year, with that crazy 80 degree weather that gave us a head start on everything. This time last year most of the shrubs had tiny leaves on them and my yard was carpeted with Scilla (see archived posts from last March here).

Phenology notes from this previous month: 

• Winooski River is navigable again
• Great Blue Herons back
• First amphibian movement of year
• Killdeer and lots of ducks in water
• Beaver (retention) pond burst, ice broke after pond drained
• Scilla (or Siberian squill) is coming up
• Daylilies and hasta coming up
• Scarlet cup fungus fruited
• Flying insects (blow flies on coyote carcass)
• Dawn chorus is starting (robins first to sing at around 6am followed by cardinals)
• Geese flying over head en masse
• Ravens with nesting material, chickadees investigating nest box, woodpeckers drumming
• Buds swelling on maples, flower buds about to open
• Ground thawed (no earthworms yet though)
• Maple sap is buddy

Other notes: Also, in the biggest news in 20 years, Jurassic Park is being released again - in 3D!!

The Three Hares (2)

What: Second installment of the series of videos from the same two perspectives tracking change over time in Centennial Woods. The videos are not super impressive yet, but in 20 years it'll be awesome to watch the changes develop over time. I chose these spots because they have dynamic water ways, early successional habitat, repeated disturbance (brush hogging under powerlines), and a mix of conifers and hardwoods. We'll see what develops!

Phenology notes from the past month: Spring is on the way!! Here are some highlights from the month:

• We had a bit of snow, but mostly temperatures hovering around freezing. 
• We also had our first rain of the spring. 
• I've noticed honeysuckle buds that burst open (and elderberries that almost opened), 
• There's an abundance of skunk prowling around, 
• Coyotes were scent marking at the height of their breeding season
• The sap is flowing on maples (silver, red, sugar, and boxelder), 
• and today I spotted turkey vultures flying north.

Crow Roost Video

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What: This is a follow up on the posting from over the weekend. Zac caught a couple of shots of the roost when it was over by the cemetery on Archibald about 3 weeks ago. The rest I took last Friday while hunting them down. On the previous post, I included a map that you can use to see where we were for the different shots.

Ecological notes: The crows are still jumpy in selecting their nightly roosts and it's been hard to keep track of where exactly they are each evening, but they seem to be preferring the Intervale for one of their last staging areas before flying south to their nightly roost. It's an exciting safari everytime I try and follow them in the evenings.

Lots of speculation here, but it seems the main reasons for roosting behavior in crows seem to be:

• predator avoidance
• huddling for warmth
• flirtation (finding mates for the nesting season)
• storytelling
• being social

Where: Burlington (and other urban areas)

Starling murmuration

    What: On Friday, Brian, Meryl, Julia, Cecily and I went down to Snake Mountain for my sister's birthday. On the way back, we spotted a murmuration of starlings at the intersection of Mountain Rd and Rte 17 in Addison. 

We were mesmerized. Even watching the video, I kind of just sink into this lull where time dissipates. My naturalist mind drifts in and out, and I occasionally puzzle through how and why these brilliantly colored birds congregate in such a way, but my mind drifts just as quickly back into the gentle rhythms of the birds moving like fish through the sky. It's one of the most dramatic and muted winter events. Perhaps their banality (there are about 2/3 as many starlings as people in the United States) makes something like this easier to ignore.

Ecological notes: We watched them flying endlessly back and forth in these beautiful organic, fluid streams for about 45 minutes. The smaller flocks would drift in and out of one another, occasionally number in the 400-600 range, then splinter back into groups of 20-100. Very rarely would a starling be flying by itself. One of the more beautiful moments was when a flock would fly over the cattle barn, with a smaller group slipping off into the barn to roost. By the time we left (5pm) there was a cacophonous roar coming from the thousands of starlings in to roost for the night.

It seems like energy conservation is particularly important during the winter, and so this seemingly extravagant display appeared out of place. My initial guesses felt off - could they be socializing? having fun? bonding? vying for rank? Crows roost in such large numbers to stay warm, to socialize, and as I forgot while looking at the starlings, to avoid death by owl. It wasn't until a Cooper's hawk showed up that it started to make sense. When the starlings flap their wings it's visually confusing, and makes it hard to focus on any one bird. They constantly shift directions, in near perfect unison, and as they do their bodies go from fat round silhouettes, to thin slivers barely visibly against the flat light. The Cooper's hawk was there nearly as long as we were and made about a dozen attempts at catching a starling, each time returning to apex of the roof empty taloned.

I doubt it's as simple as predator avoidance (this works similar to dazzle camouflage which I wrote about in my post on locusts). The grace and elegance of the birds flying has it's own peace and quieting energy. Their movements etched these soft liquid lines in the still dusk air of winter, and it just felt good to be in their presence. Maybe it's the goodnight story of the starling. Maybe they do it simply because it's beautiful - like the revival chorus of songbirds in August, or the midnight singing of the hermit thrush, or the fall peeping of the spring peepers. Whatever the reason it was another way to fall in love with winter.

Where: Addison, VT. There's a considerable number of cows in that area (here's a link to where we saw the starlings).

Other notes: My sister, Meryl, is a fantastic film maker and cut together the video from footage she shot with her iPhone. For more of her work, visit: http://www.meryloconnor.com/

Beavers in the Retention Pond (Part VI)

What: 7Days just published an article about the beaver situation. Thanks to all the people that have gotten in touch with me about ways in which they can help. I was called a "renegade" by one staff at UVM Grounds, which was unfortunate to be labeled a renegade for making public what's happening on public land. Though, I suppose I'd be in alright company. In Thoreau's Civil Disobedience he writes, "But, to speak practically and as a citizen, unlike those who call themselves no-government men, I ask for, not at once no government, but at once a better government. Let every man make known what kind of government would command his respect, and that will be one step toward obtaining it." So for all the people that have gotten in touch with me (from around the country too!!) asking how they might get involved, I encourage you to speak up, to let folks at UVM know what you want to see happen, whether you agree with me, them, both, or none of us. Simply let your voice be heard.

I'd start by reaching out to me, Enrique Corredera, who is the director for UVM communications, and Sal Chiarelli, Director of Physical Plant. You can also write letters to the editor to comment on the 7Days article. As Alicia said in the article, this isn't a case about good vs bad. There are cases to be made for many different solutions, so it's important to be strong, but open minded in this; as were Afrika Bambaataa's renegades of funk.

As mentioned in the article the three initial conibear traps were removed by someone walking into an unmarked, retention pond with a gate wide open. In response UVM started locking the gate and put up no trespassing signs to secure the new traps the hired trapper set on the berm between the upper pond and lower pond (I've seen deer on several occasions in the retention pond, though even with gates locked the deer could walk in through one of the other large holes in the fence). So accessing the pond would now be a legal violation (I think this statute covers the possible repercussions, though there may be others as I don't know the legal system).

Last year NPR's Fresh Air had a special celebrating 100 years of Woody Guthrie. They talked about a verse often edited out of "This Land is Your Land":

As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

Other notes: I'd also like to expand on Katie Flagg's use of the word tame in her article. To me that word is less like the domesticated use of it (like kitty-pets in Erin Hunter's Warriors series), and more like the meaning Antoine de Saint-Exupery describes so poetically in his book The Little Prince:

"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower... I think that she has tamed me..."

Beavers in the retention pond (Part V)

What: I've just finished editing and touching up my students' entries to the Natural History Dictionary. Took a lot longer than I hoped, but it's certainly worth it. Definitely a work in progress, but I think it's shaping up to be something really really helpful and fascinating!!

So last Friday the kill traps went back up. UVM has killed at least one of the beavers so far, and another one went missing since last Thursday (with finishing up grading I haven't been able to spend as much time out there, so there very well could still be three left, but I was only been able to see/hear 2 last night; all the time spent grading means that this footage is all old). I'm not universally opposed to trapping, I just think in this case it's being done irresponsibly (ecologically and in terms of the community perspective), in a short-sighted way, and as a result of prior ineptitude.

UVM Grounds won't respond to my questions about the process involved or why it's so imperative to kill them - an unfortunate lack of transparency - so I'll speculate based on personal observation and what I've heard second hand. From what I gather the beavers have to go because part of the requirement for managing the retention pond (built as a mitigation for paving the parking lot next to the Centennial Field) includes monitoring and managing for both water quality and water height. Apparently they have to check these every month to meet legal obligations. Water height is an easy one, but I would assume they're either not doing it regularly or doing it poorly as the beavers have been there for 4.5 out of the last 7 months (a 2 month stretch from June to late July, and again from late September until now). Most of that time the water has been about 4' higher than normal.

As for pollution, I don't know how beavers being there would make any difference or what kind of pollution they'd be measuring (biological or chemical). It's not like any of the vegetation is doing any biofiltering of anything this time of year. And the volume of water flowing out should be the same as if the water were 5' lower. Beavers don't really carry rabies and there's never been a rodent-to-human infection, not that that should be a concern (if it was they'd probably want to do something about the raccoon population.

Beaver scat! A rare site! Basically it's just saw dust. This is from Mill Pond 

Humans are far more likely to carry giardia than beavers (beaver fever's a misnomer - most birds and mammals can carry the parasite, and people get giardia when they go camping usually not because they drink contaminated water but because their hygiene goes down the tubes). A study in the northeast found that muskrats had a prevalence of for trophozoites (the stage where the parasites is actually parasitizing, rather than just being transferred from beast to beast) of 96%!!! while for beavers it was less than 15%. There are two muskrats living in the lodge with the beavers and were here well before the beavers established their home and will be here well after (they don't share the same resource depletion strategy as beavers). It seems unreasonable that they'd be testing for Giardia sp., however, and I'm sure there's another reason why the beavers need to go. I'd love to know...

Where: Retention pond under powerlines in Centennial Woods

The amazing capacity of beech to stump sprout. Look at all those latent buds! 

Beavers in the Retention Pond (Part IV)

I'd love to not be posting exclusively on beavers, but they've been on my mind an awful lot these last couple of months. Other stuff is still happening (like a wild hive of honey bees a student of mine found nestled in an old white pine), so more to come on that later.

Other notes: Following up on my Monday post, the second reason that I'm upset by the way the "beaver problem" was handled is that it shows a lack of transparency and input from public voice. It's not surprising that Centennial Woods holds a dear spot in many people's hearts. Every time the University or City proposes some other development in or around CW, it just galvanizes the residents and students that love it. We want to have a say in the shaping and management of CW, to make sure that the emotional connection, and personal experience of the woods holds weight in how the land gets managed and stewarded. The decision (and lack of public input) doesn't appear to take this in to consideration; it doesn't even show a huge consideration for or knowledge of the ecology of that area. Even if Fish & Wildlife said that the beavers could be trapped and not moved, that doesn't mean that that's the other only option. I see two sets of options.

The first in relation to the beavers:
1. Trap all the beavers
2. Relocate the beavers
3. Do nothing
4. Wait until spring to see if beavers leave on their own, and then return to questions 1-3

The second set of options is what to do after the beavers are gone
1. Install beaver baffles around the outflow pipes
2. Cut down trees around pond to remove habitat
3. Do nothing

I'd prefer options 4 and 1. Again, people love this area and want input. Much like CW, few animals are as charismatic as a beaver is. These beavers in particular had become small-time celebrities - so when FWS says "yeah, go ahead and trap them" their comment is on one hand practical and on the otherhand completely ignorant of the context of this specific case - how embedded in the education of many students and hearts of community members these beavers were.

Two of the boys I mentor, one 7 the other 9, came out to Centennial Brook with me last year to meet the parents of one pair of these beavers. When I told the older boy the beavers had moved back in to Centennial Woods, he gathered up a group of his friends and brought them out to meet these beavers. While out visiting the beavers, Sam (the TA for my Natural History of Centennial Woods class) ran into them and they exchanged stories and watched three beavers making last minute preparations for winter, caching beech, cherry, and birch saplings near their lodge. The following day the boy brought his mom and grandma to the pond to meet Melvin and the other two beavers. I got to follow up with them and exchange more stories. Almost every time I go to the pond I meet up with someone down there and we share stories. The beavers have become an anchor for those of us who are connected to Centennial Woods.

It would be amazing if management decisions as sensitive as this were based not on relative ease, but took time and weighed multiple options with multiple voices. It might take more time, but it would empower community members and students to share their voice and make sure that management decisions reflect the needs, desires, and heart of the community that they effect. It'd be great if making "the right decision" included more that just a dialog about how to maintain the functionality of the outflow pipe. How wonderful if the list of consultants contacted for this decision included people deeply connected to the land, who knew this land not from a distance, but hold its stories in their hearts.

Beavers in the retention pond (Part III)

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Beaver clearing trail for a beech sapling

What: Centennial Woods feels a bit emptier today. On Friday afternoon I got the very sad news that UVM was kill trapping the beavers that many of us have come to know so well.

What I know so far is that they have killed one of the three beavers, the one we called Melvin, using conibear traps. There are three conibear traps set up on well-worn trails running between the upper and lower reservoirs of the retention pond. Conibear traps are incredibly effective at killing animals. While they can be baited, these aren't. UVM hasn't locked or closed the gate to the detention pond in over a year and with regularity I find mink, gray fox, raccoon, red fox, deer, domestic dog, and domestic cat tracks in the pond (this morning fresh raccoon and red fox tracks on the wet snow inside the gate). While the traps weren't baited when I checked them, they're located in access points the beavers use with regularity. Trappers place traps where their quarry go. And where their quarry go so do their predators - or anything curious about their scent. This is why Conibear traps also kill so many beagles and other domestic dogs that investigate the one place around a beaver pond where a beaver leaves its scent on the ground (you can find lots of depressing articles on beagles found dead in these types of traps).

Sam and I spooked the beaver while

coming down to check the game cam

Rose Leland told me on Friday that this was the best course of action and that everyone they had talked to recommended this. I find this problematic for two main reasons. I'll post my first here, and the second in a couple of days. First, it's irresponsible management. The beavers had obviously moved in during the summer, immediately backing up the outflow pipe, felling several large beech trees that landed on the fence, and built a visible lodge. All of this is easily visible from UVM's Ground's office and the spot where UVM Grounds employees hit golf balls down into Centennial Woods. They clearly could have seen the effects the beavers were having.

If the beavers were indeed a problem, UVM could have done something at that time to a) beaver-proof the fence around the retention pond, and/or b) transplanted the beavers. The beavers did move out of the pond sometime during the late summer (perhaps UVM did transplant the beavers). But because the habitat and access to it still existed, it would only be reasonable to assume that beavers would return, which they did in late September. Again the signs of their presence was obvious. UVM's negligence in dealing with this until December (almost 10 weeks later), meant that options were severely limited as it's now too late in the season to transplant them. But even the assumption that killing them is the only way to deal with them (if you believe dealing with them is even necessary) is false as beavers have been known to adopt other beavers in their home territory. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the initial pair of beavers adopted the second pair after UVM destroyed their habitat at the other retention pond. An assumption on my part, but due to last year's long growing season and tame winter, beavers this year should be better off and have larger caches. They would, therefore, be more likely to adopt other beavers. Had UVM responded sooner we wouldn't be mourning the loss of a beaver that had touched the lives of so many.

Beavers in the retention pond (part II)

What: I went back and set the game cam up further back from the fence. It doesn't quite capture them crawling under the fence (I put it too far back), but it does give a pretty good sense of how curious and observant they are. They definitely, in both this video and the previous one, noticed the game cam and spent time to investigate it.

Ecological notes: The three or four beavers that live in the pond are two pairs. The second pair moved in about 4 weeks ago when UVM Facilities destroyed the habitat surrounding the other constructed retention pond by the Sheraton. With no food the beavers headed down stream, found this pond and took up residency with them.

I think that two of the beavers were siblings (one from each pair). And I think that they're probably also the same beavers that were living here last spring. Sam and I have both been watching the beavers in the spring, and it took time to earn their trust (where they wouldn't slap their tails at us). I would assume that this beaver remembered me (and the trust it had for me), which is why it only took a couple times to have it come right back up to me.

Where: Retention pond in Centennial Woods.

Beavers in the retention pond (Part I)

What: Sam and I went out last Tuesday afternoon (11/27) to set up the game cam. They've got a number of trails that run under the fence around the retention pond that they've used so we decided to stash some aspen on the uphill side of the fence and put the game cam facing the water on the downhill side so we could get video of them dragging the branches back to the water.

We got about 70 videos starting at 4:30pm and ending around 4:30am. The beavers used the path about every 30-45 minutes or so for the whole 12 hours. The video is a compilation of the three beavers making foraging trips from the retention pond to the beech stand (we caught about a dozen trips on camera). The photo to the right is of our second set up to get shots of the beavers crawling under the fence. The game cam is attached to the beech log in the foreground.

Ecological notes: There were 4 beavers in the pond three weeks ago, but we've only seen 3 at a time in the past couple of weeks. Their cache seems to be primarily beech, with some red maple, white ash, elm, white birch, and witch hazel in the mix. They've also been eating heaps of staghorn sumac, scant black cherry saplings, and an occasional glossy buckthorn. Stay tuned, as there are more videos to come (with all the warm weather, the pond should stay thawed for at least another week or so and they'll be out and about)!!

Where: Retention Pond under powerlines in Centennial Woods

Praying mantis

What: Meryl & Julia spotted a hitchhiker in our house today - it apparently came in on one of my sweatshirts. This adult female European mantis (Mantis religiosa) was a blast to watch. They're visual predators, focusing right now on all these late summer, early fall insects like crickets and grasshoppers fattening up for a late breeding season. They move slowly and awkwardly through lawns, relying on camouflage and stealth to ambush their prey. Their "praying" arms are really vicious graspers that clasp onto a prey and don't let go. Here, the lady is just using those forelegs to hold a rear leg that it was cleaning.

Ecological notes: Mantises mate in the fall and lay their eggs in a frothy mess (called an ootheca) that hardens. Eggs overwinter and hatch in the late spring. This time of year they're fattening up stores for laying all those eggs. Oh, and apparently it's a myth that they eat the bridegroom. That only happens in captive settings. They're pretty finicky when it comes to visual stimuli so a lab setting, where they're in a glass case results in some weird behavior. In the video, she responded to my movement, but seemed relatively unperturbed when I stomped my feet against the ground to try and elicit a response. The creepy part was that she was watching me, intently. I think it's extra obvious because she could move her head, but it felt like she was studying me - it reminded me of Muldoon, the Aussie hunter in Jurassic Park, who says of the raptors: "That one... when she looks at you, you can see she's working things out."

Where: My backyard

Other notes: For adult praying mantises, females have much larger thoraxes and their wings are never longer than their bodies, while males are more slender and their wings are longer than their bodies are.

Harvesting Honey

What: Callan, Zac, and I suited up and checked in on our hives. A few weeks ago we added supers to the hives and were hoping that the time for harvesting was finally here. And indeed it was! We gave one of our hives a headstart by giving it drawn out comes at the beginning of the season, and the upper of its two supers was completely drawn out with capped honey and no brood. The super probably weighed upwards of 30 pounds! The video shows a bit about the harvesting process once the frames had been removed from the hive. Zac also shows off some wonderful natural history knowledge.

It was amazing to see how much honey we harvested relative to the size of the super. The ball jars are actually sitting on a deep, which is 9 5/8" deep, whereas the super we harvested from is only 6 5/8" deep (its total volume is only about 1.2 square feet). 

Ecological notes: A lot of the clovers are past their peak and the mints, late season squash flowers, and goldenrods are taking center stage. I've seen the first knotweed flower buds, which is among the last sources of nectar for honey bees before winter sets in.

Where: My backyard

Other notes: We got about 2.5 gallons of honey off of our first harvest. Last year we had an early and a late harvest off of one hive, totally about 5 gallons of honey. Hopefully we will be able to harvest honey from our other two hives this year if we get a good flush of nectar over the next few weeks.

The Weird World of Mollusks

What: I don't think I'll ever be able to fully empathize with a mollusk, well at least not with a bivalve. But I do find them terribly fascinating, which isn't a bad start. And like most things, the more I learn and observe them the more I appreciate their quiet existence. While walking the shoreline at Delta Park, I was caught by the odd swirling groves etched into the sand. I had been spending some time trying to figure out how different water currents would manifest in the topography of the underlying sand - in some patches there were long straight furrows like a recently plowed field, while others had overlapping u-shaped mounds consistent in size for a given patch (see end of video for what I mean). I couldn't help but be distracted by the seemingly chaotic lines that the clams had carved across the ripples.

Ecological notes: While walking barefoot through the shallows, we didn't have to worry much about zebra mussels at Delta Park because the substrate is largely sand. Mussels are a subset of clams (see etymology notes below) that have byssal threads that serve to anchor their shells to a solid substrate - no solid substrates, no mussels. Only in a few places, like where we found heaps of downed trees partly submerged in the water, did we find zebra mussels. We did however find an abundance of freshwater clams. I unburied one, then left it with my camera set to take a picture every minute and a half. The time lapse was shot over about an hour and a half. In the first few seconds you can see the animal expel a mess of waste, which appears to be attached by a string.

There behavior still largely mystifies me. With their large rubbery foot the clams slowly reposition themselves along the shoreline - perhaps following changes in wind direction, water depth, or some other factor. Some of their trails were long slow arcs, others overlapping and confused circles. The groves left behind in the wake of their movement created small eddies in which algae settles. Fresher trails appeared as gray fissures bordered with crusty plates of sand fragmented. I checked some of the same trails after about 12 hours and they looked largely in tact, so I'm guessing it takes some stronger currents to breakdown the trails (and that they move really really slowly).

Smaller bivalves burrowed in sediments. Water level is super low right now

Their trails in the sand (hard to see unless you click on image to see a larger version).

Algae settled in old tracks

Where: Delta Park in Colchester (mouth of the Winooski River).

Etymology notes: The term clam is a muddy one to say the least. A clam could be a bivalve (a mollusk with a pair of hinged, clasping shells) that burrows into sediment - as opposed to a mussel, like a zebra mussel, which attaches itself to a substrate like pilings, other bivalves, whales, or just about anything else with a solid surface.  Or a clam could be an umbrella term for all bivalve mollusks (a square is always a rectangle, but a rectangle is not always a square like a mussel is always a clam but a clam not always a mussel). When I called ECHO to ask about help identifying freshwater clams, I was corrected: "freshwater mussels," which further confused the matter since I was referring to bivalves that burrow in the sand. Maybe there's a vernacular understanding of "mussels" as any of those freshwater filter feeders.

Other notes: Not sure about the edibility of the mussels, but they seemed an enticing source of food. Mussels themselves are not toxic, but they are filter feeders so you're essentially eating whatever microscopic stuff is floating down the Winooski or hanging out along the edges of Lake Champlain). Plus I'm not sure what species they are. Vermont's Wildlife Action Plan says that of the 18 species of mussels in Vermont, 13 are listed as threatened, of special concern, endangered, or already extinct (a rate on par with national figures). I used a field guide from Connecticut to try and ID these guys, with little luck. There's another publication UVM has that I plan on checking out to try and narrow it down: Fichtel & Smith's The Freshwater mussels of Vermont. Plus, depending on who you talk to, some species can live 75-200 years. I'd feel bad eating something that old.

Storm + Winooski River Paddle Revisited

Bonus post: Just wanted to post a quick video I put together from that epic thunderstorm last night. For a better synopsis of conditions leading up to and during the storm, check out The Weather Rapport.

What: Last Wednesday and Thursday I paddled the Winooski River from Bolton Dam down to Salmon Hole in Burlington (about 30 miles or so). There are a couple of great paddling guides online (1) (2) that give a sense of what to expect from the conditions on the river, but do little to describe the sheer joy of getting lost in the meandering freedom of the Winooski's bends and folds. Only occasionally did the old span bridge or rumble of a semi's engine break remind me of the thin border of silver maples separating me from the faster pace of asphalt and clocks.

Ecological notes: I was particularly fascinated with the enormity and odd grace of the committee of turkey vultures that seemed to defy my cultural expectations of what a vulture should be (on Friday I'll post more about collective nouns, like committee, for animals). Wednesday evening I came to a fork in the river where it split around an island. I saw a turkey vulture circling low on the south stretch of the island and so I set down that direction. As I slowly approached, another turkey vulture landed on a gravel spit about a quarter mile down from me, followed shortly by three more. I tied up my boat and crept slowly along the shore line to get a better view. As I rounded the bend I was treated with a spectacular view of about 25 turkey vultures either sunning themselves on the rocks or perched up in the trees preening themselves.

In that late afternoon heat I wanted nothing more than to spread my own arms out and sun myself on the rocks with them. I couldn't help but wonder if that was the ultimate motivation for the turkey vultures' behavior. When I got back, Callan and I came up with a pretty short list of reason why we thought the vultures (and other birds) might do sun themselves. Here's what we came up with:

1. Kill bacteria by drying them out (they're detritivores, an animal that eats dead stuff, which is probably a source of all kinds of nasty bugs)
2. Kill other parasites, like taking a dust bath
3. Produce Vitamin D
4. Warm themselves up before going to bed
5. Warm themselves up to increase metabolic rate, digest food faster
6. Visual display of power to other turkey vultures
7. Dry off

I've also seen cormorants do this (see photo above), pelicans, and green herons. Some quick research shows that many birds do this, but their posture is different from the vultures and cormorants shown above. Indeed only a few others, like anhingas, storks, and other herons, do this standing up with wings spread. The ring-billed gull colony I encountered the following afternoon had about 300 individuals (plus a small handful of mergansers) all standing facing the sun, but with wings closely tucked in).

Some patterns in the list of birds that sun themselves standing up with wings out emerge: many are aquatic, they tend to be darker, they're carnivores, they're very large birds, they live longer than most birds, and most are in the stork order, Ciconiiformes. After writing this I looked up the order of pelicans (Pelicaniformes) to see if it used to be included in Ciconiiformes, and sure enough Pelicaniformes is often proposed as part of Ciconiiformes. What's even cooler and more surprising is that new world vultures (as opposed to buzzards and their old world kin) are close cousins of the storks. So if this behavior of standing up and sunbathing is monophyletic (occuring only in one evolutionary branch of birds), then it might be reasonable to assume it originated in a single ancestor of new world vultures, herons, storks, cormorants, and pelicans. The behavior might then serve a unique purpose among these birds.

I didn't find anything conclusive, but it looks like birds will sunbath for all the reasons that Callan and I came up with. A 1957 paper on the topic indicates that birds might also sunbathe socially; if one starts sunbathing then others will join her/him. I'm not sure what the primary purpose of sunbathing is for these birds, but I'll bet spending lots of time in/near stagnant water (for cormorants, herons) and eating carcasses (vultures) makes these birds susceptible to parasites so having a way to kill them would be good (maybe the black of a vulture heats their feathers up to a higher more lethal temperature).

Additionally, vitamin D deficiency can pose skeletal problems, making large body size a critical reason to sunbathe. Ciconiiformes and vultures don't migrate far, so in the winter they're not getting as much vitamin D as say migratory song birds might. Vitamin D deficiency prevents an animal from absorbing calcium from food. Prolonged deficiency (as with people in northern latitudes) can result in weakened bones that bend and curve under the body's weight (like the stereotypical bow-legged Eskimo). Sunning would be an effective way of producing vitamin D.

Another source says that warming up feathers "resets" their curvature, bringing them back to their most efficient shape, an obvious advantage for a turkey vulture, which spends most of its time soaring looking for food. But I couldn't verify this with any reputable sources. 

Where: Winooski River, about 2 miles upstream from Richmond.

Mourning doves

What: We've got a pair of mourning doves (Zenaida macroura) that started to build a nest in a boxelder (Acer negundo) at the end of our street. I watched the male bring supplies to the female all morning. It was a hot and listless day and the female was yawny waiting for the male to return with sticks (for more on how to identify male vs. female, check out: The Secret Life of the Mourning Dove by Michele Patenaude; in short males are larger, have rosier chests, and have more irridescent heads).

As is evident in the video, it appeared as though the male was testing the strength of each twig/pine needle to be added to the nest by banging it against the ground. Flimsy ones were discarded, sturdier ones brought back. It was fun to watch him pick through the bounty of needles and twigs in search of the perfect ones. I was in and out all morning, but I'm pretty sure the male worked on this for about 6 or 7 hours before my sister and I left the house. By the following afternoon it was abandoned for whatever reason.

A finished mourning dove nest is kind of a disaster so it was hard to tell that it had even been abandoned. I found one a few years ago with Ian Worley and I asked if it was old because it looked like it was in awful shape. He said that was par for the course and the active nests I've seen since then look almost like the birds don't really care at all for craftsmanship or aesthetics. But I guess if you're building a nest in a scraggly tree like a boxelder you build a scraggly looking nest to blend in.

Ecological notes: The nest went unfinished and I think they selected a nearby site over the next couple of days after the video. Last Sunday, Brian was outside and watched the doves attacking a red squirrel. I went out and the red squirrel was coming down a white pine with feathers clinging awkwardly to its mouth. At least one of the mourning doves, and I can't really think of a more docile bird, were going crazy. So the video is from July 1st, 7 days before "the attack". I suspect that they rebuilt and soon after laid eggs. I don't know that the eggs had hatched yet, but my guess is that the doves defended their nest from the red squirrel and the red squirrel might have bit back, but not been actively hunting the doves.

Where: Burlington, VT in my backyard.

Other notes: The red squirrels have been extra bellicose the past couple weeks. It's amazing, I hadn't really seen any of them in my back yard for about two months - just an occasional sighting. But now that the fruits on our black walnut (Juglans cinerea) are swelling, they've been fighting off the gray squirrels like that's the last food source on earth. They start wailing at dawn and don't really stop. What's interesting is that the gray squirrels, though they are certainly submissive, have been equally vocal.

Also, there was a robber fly in my backyard today. I couldn't tell what kind it was nor could I tell what it was eating, but it was fun to watch it devour its meal in fits and starts.

Long Trail

What: Last week Brian and I led a three-day backpacking trip for 11 & 12 year olds. We started at Lincoln Gap and finished at Appalachian Gap. We hiked about 14 miles total and stayed at Battell Shelter our first night and Glen Ellen the second night. The video shows some of the scenery and inside of Glen Ellen Shelter.

What else: This blog is primarily run by me, but we also have guest contributors and this fall we'll have students from Crow's Path programs updating it. We volunteer our time because we love sharing the natural world with others. If y'all enjoy it and learn a thing or two about the world around you, it'd be awesome if you could make a small donation by using the link to the right. 100% of donations support our programs directly through buying tools and gear or providing scholarships for kids. Any amount helps.

Ecological notes: On our last day, as one of the kids and I were walking down from Mt Ellen to the parking lot at Appalachian Gap, David asked how far we had to go. He remembered the parking lot at Lincoln Gap is at 2428', and suggested the Appalachian Gap was probably the same (he was right, it's 2375'). To answer his question, I just looked around me. The ridge line (about 3800'-4100' in elevation) smells so pristine with the scents of moss and spruce mixing in the updrafts blowing off the lake. As we descended, I pointed out a new plant that had started to appear, hobblebush. As we looked at the flowers, I told him that it won't grow much above 3000', so just 600' to go to the parking lot. I told him that we'd start seeing beech trees at about 2700' in elevation. I described the smooth gray (gray in America, grey in England) bark, which can look like an elephants foot, and the stiff papery leaves with perfectly straight veins. He spotted the first one, and I told him to keep his eyes peeled for more - 300' to go. The light broke open in the now overwhelmingly deciduous canopy and he started running towards the parking lot.

Where: Lincoln Gap to Appalachian Gap along the Long Trail.

Other notes: I just got back from a 30 mile paddle along the Winooski and saw some amazing things, including a roost of about 25 turkey vultures! I'll post on that in a couple of days.

Monarch butterfly

What: The milkweed has certainly got my attention this time of year. I spotted a monarch near the milkweed in the front of my house and my heart immediately skipped a beat with the anticipation that it might lay an egg on one of the stalks. Sure enough it did!! I told my mom I'd get her a monarch chrysalis for her birthday, so hopefully these little caterpillars will make it to the pupal stage. The eggs hatch in about 4-5 days, so and I took the above photo on Saturday. Yesterday when I went out in the evening I took the photo below:

In about 2 weeks the caterpillar will begin the process of metamorphosis, and 10 days later it will emerge a beautiful butterfly (and die 2-6 weeks later after giving birth to the next generation). Given the timing of this hatch, this should be the 2nd or 3rd generation of the year. The 4th generation is born in the fall and migrates down towards Mexico. This generation will live around 6 months.

I tried to catch a video of the monarch laying its egg, but I didn't have much success. They only land on the leaf for a couple of seconds and then they're off flying in crazy, unpredictable patterns (possibly to make it harder for birds to catch them on the wing?). She would lay an egg, then flap around for a few minutes before returning to lay another egg (one at a time, I watched her lay about 2 dozen in 20 minutes). The eggs were all on the under side of the leaf and always on milkweed. A couple of times she landed on a nearby Jerusalem artichoke or a beggars tick, but far more often than not it was on milkweed.

Ecological notes: I was impressed with the number of other insects making use of the milkweed. There were more tortoise beetles, some ants, an ear wig, a cabbage moth, a spider eating what looked like a June bug, and lots of long-legged flies (Dolichopodidae).

Where: Milkweed patch in my front yard.

Other notes: More cicadas singing, plus a pair of mourning doves making a nest in the boxelder across the street. I'll post more on that soon.

Puerto Rico II: Herptiles!

This is your second "guest lecture" from the tiny mountain town of Adjuntas, Puerto Rico (soon to be sister-city of Burlington, Vermont!)

 Sounds of the early evening - the coquís singing. 

Cane Toad - Bufo marinus

Cane Toad - Bufo marinus

Unidentified lizard

Common Coquí (Eleutherodactylus coqui)

Common Coquí (Eleutherodactylus coqui)

What: The Common Coquí (Eleutherodactylus coqui) is hands-down the national symbol of Puerto Rico. I am serenaded by them every evening from my urban apartment - I can only imagine that their ko-KEE call would be deafening in the forest. I also discovered a large Cane Toad (Bufo marinus) in the small man-made pool outside my house. I am still not abel to identify this Unknown Lizard ("largato" en español), which is one of many I see scurrying about the open areas all day long - I still have yet to actually catch one - they are fast!


Ecological notes: I've learned that the Common Coquí is native to Puerto Rico, but has become something of a nuisance in other tropical environments into which it has been introduced. The Eleutherodactylus genus (name coming from the Greek for "free-toed" - nearly all have unwebbed feet) is the largest genus of vertebrates in the world with about 700 species (but now, as with many re-classification schemes, the genus is being divided into several more distinct sub-genera). The coquí is assuredly a tree frog - hence its webbed feet. The Eleutherodactylus are one of the few frog genera wherein all the frogs go through what is called "direct development," meaning that they skip a tadpole stage, and are born as very very tiny frogs (full size female common coquís are only about 40mm, or 1.5in). The Cane Toad is an exotic species, coming originally from Oceania, and now seen all over the island of Puerto Rico, in addition to the only other toad (which is native), the Puerto Rican Crested Toad. There are about 40 different types of lizards on the island of Puerto Rico, depending on how you count (some people draw distinctions between iguanas and skinks when talking about "lizards").


Where: Once again, all in my backyard right here in Adjuntas, Puerto Rico - in the Central Cordillera mountain range of Puerto Rico. Elevation about 1,600 ft.