Neighborhood
Naturalist • 2008 Summer: V6 #2
Spotted Towhee
by Don Boucher
When I imagine an ideal summer day I think of puffy clouds drifting
by, soft breezes and swallows in the sky. I imagine myself relaxing
in the shade on the edge of a meadow near an oak woodland. In
the nearby shrubs I hear a recognizable rustle in the leaf litter.
It’s a familiar companion, a Spotted Towhee. Her mate is
singing about 20 yards away on an arching blackberry cane. She
calls to him periodically with a nasal “mewing” sound.
Spotted Towhees are common, handsome birds, and I always find
their presence a delight. Every blackberry patch or dense shrubby
area seems to have a resident towhee. They’re a little shy
and prefer to stay within the thickets or close to the ground
nearby. Nevertheless, they easily become accustomed to the presence
of people who move quietly and gently. Those with bird feeders
and bird baths get to know Spotted Towhees. One can lounge in
the yard and get to see the resident towhee in its favorite shady
spots. That’s one of the benefits of taking up birding as
a pastime—success can be achieved by being lazy. Some of
the best birding happens when you’re patient and calm, and
you get to see birds go about their business as if you were just
part of landscape. Spotted Towhees are good subjects for this.
Formerly known as the Rufous-sided Towhee, the species was split
into Eastern and Spotted Towhees. The Eastern Towhee ranges from
the central Great Plains states to the East Coast from Maine to
Florida. The Spotted Towhee ranges from the mountains of Guatemala
and Mexico to southwest Canada, as far east as the Dakotas, and
west to the Pacific Coast. There are nine subspecies of the Spotted
Towhee north of Mexico and twelve throughout Mexico. Our subspecies
is Pipilo maculatus oregonus and its range is approximately along
the Pacific Coast to the Western Cascades from north of the Rogue
Valley to southern British Columbia. There are three other Oregon
subspecies. P. m. curtatus ranges from the east slope of the Cascades
eastward. P. m. falcifer and falcinellus are mostly California
subspecies that range to extreme southwest Oregon.
Subspecies differ in slightly in appearance but on their range
boundaries birds are intermediate. Spotted Towhees in the east
of their range (the Great Plains) have the largest and most numerous
white spots on the wings and back. Dry climate subspecies are
generally lighter while those in wet climates are darker. Our
Northwest
P. m. oregonus has the smallest and fewest white spots, with the
deepest black and rusty coloring. Mexican subspecies are particularly
variable and may have dull or greenish backs.
Look for a black hood, back, wings and tail. The bill is slaty
gray and the eye is red. There are white spots on the wings, back
and outer tail feathers. There is a central white band from the
breast to under the tail base. The sides of the belly (flanks)
are cinnamon red.
The female has the same basic plumage of the male, but the black
is grayer and the cinnamon is paler.
Young Spotted Towhees may emerge from the nest in late May. This
fledgling has streaks on its breast and is lighter in color than
the adults. Photo courtesy of Greg Gillson.
In our area Spotted Towhees are year-round residents. The subspecies
in the northern Rocky Mountains and northern Great Plains (P.
m. arcticus) spend the winter at lower elevations or lower latitudes.
Towhees are sparrows that have long tails. The Spotted Towhee
is the only towhee species in our bioregion, but elsewhere in
Oregon there are Green-Tailed Towhees and California Towhees.
They eat insects and other small invertebrates in the top layers
of soil. They also eat seeds gathered mostly from the ground and
small fruits when available. They like acorns, but the relatively
large nuts pose a challenge. If you put out seed for your towhee
friends, remember that they prefer platform feeders or areas beneath
finch feeders where seeds fall. Place feeders near shrubs to attract
towhees.
Like other sparrows, Spotted Towhees gather food by scratching
through soil and leaf litter. There are other food gathering methods
but the scratching method is characteristic of the Spotted Towhee.
When I hear rustling around in the underbrush, it is often a Spotted
Towhee. The quick, back-and-forth hopping and scratching is recognizable.
You need not listen for rustles under the bushes to identify a
Spotted Towhee by sound. The call note, which is a sound made
any time of year by males and females alike, is consistent and
reliably unique to identify the species. It can be described as
a nasal “mew” or “creaky hinge” that lasts
about a second and ascends slightly in tone. This call is given
whether the bird is agitated or calm. Agitated birds call more
often and intensely as a predator alarm or as aggression between
males. Calm birds call softly and less often to communicate to
mates or fledglings. It’s a good way to keep in contact
with one another when they can’t see well in thick brush.
The Spotted Towhee’s song is variable and may be tricky
for beginners. Occasionally they can make songs that confuse experts.
An individual male may change his song numerous times in one morning.
However, perhaps in about half of song occurrences, the song is
a non-musical dry-sounding trill that lasts a second or a little
longer. It starts sharply and fades evenly in volume but remains
constant in tone. Sometimes the trill is preceded by a short whistled
note. Songs patterns vary between individuals and from region
to region. Practice listening to your neighborhood towhees sing.
If ever in doubt, listen for their reliable “mew”
call note. They may occasionally make some other sounds, like
a thin lispy note and a short “tic.” I sometimes confuse
these soft sounds with those of other sparrows. In these cases
I may have to see the towhee to identify it or wait until it makes
a more recognizable sound.
In April, the female starts nest building. She constucts it on
the ground or low in shrubs. The nest is a cup of twigs, grass,
bark and other vegetation and occasionally hair. She lays three
or four pale gray or cream-colored eggs with tiny brown spots.
Only the female incubates the eggs, and the chicks hatch within
13 days. The male may help feed the female while she is incubating.
Occasionally a second brood is raised. Hatchlings are fed by both
adults but only the female remains on the nest with the young.
When the young fledge, they are relatively pale and streaky with
shorter tails than the adults and eyes are somewhat reddish or
brown.
In the winter they are not territorial and tend to be solitary.
During breeding season males establish territories. At this time
of year, you’re not likely to see towhees together except
for breeding pairs and their fledglings. Spotted Towhees are not
gregarious, which means they do not flock. They may gather incidentally
with each other and other species to take advantage of food opportunities.
A good example of this is a yard that attracts various birds with
feeders and bird baths.
Spotted Towhees may live up to seven years, but there is a record
of over ten years. They do well in urban areas wherever there
are overgrown shrubby areas and landscaping. In some cases browsing
by goats and overpopulated deer may negatively impact towhee habitat
by reducing undergrowth. Some island populations of Spotted Towhees
may be at risk when shrubby habitats are eliminated. Nevertheless
our Spotted Towhee populations are not in any danger. What a treasure
to have such a pretty, native bird that is so common!
Data Source: Birds of North America Online. From The Cornell Lab
of Ornithology and the American Ornithologists’ Union.
back
to index |
Common Whitetail
by Lisa Millbank
When I was about 9, I was fascinated by an irrigation ditch near
my house. To me it was like visiting a fabulous wilderness, absolutely
teeming with life, and I always brought my butterfly net. I loved
to catch insects, but dragonflies were too elusive for me. I watched
the Common Whitetails swiftly cruising over the water and I longed
to catch one. Effortlessly, they evaded the wild swings of my
net. One day, after many futile attempts, I spotted a Whitetail
speeding toward me and swept the net over the water. At the same
time I lost my balance and stumbled into the ditch. But as soon
as I heard the Whitetail’s wings buzzing in the net, I forgot
about the mud and algae covering my legs. I finally had one!
I removed him from the net and marveled at the spectacular creature
in my hands. His abdomen was coated with a waxy, bluish-white
pigment. His clear wings were marked with broad smoky patches.
The bristles on his legs made a basket for capturing flying insects,
which he would crunch with his powerful jaws. His faceted eyes
looked like huge spherical goggles, seemingly capable of seeing
everywhere at once. The dragonfly buzzed impatiently in my hands
and I let him go back to his hunting.
I didn’t know it at the time, but the Whitetail’s
ancestors chased insects in the same way, over 300 million years
ago in the Paleozoic Era. Their winning design pairs an elegant
aerodynamic form with precise flight control. But the winged adult
dragonfly is only a part of the story; dragonflies spend most
of their lives as an aquatic larva, or naiad.
The naiad itself is an accomplished hunter. Though it is a squat,
odd little insect, it is fully capable of eating almost any aquatic
insect or small fish. Under its head it conceals an extensible
mouthpart, armed with gripping claw-like appendages. Much like
the arms of a praying mantis, the dragonfly naiad shoots out its
lower “lip” to grab prey. A dragonfly naiad gets oxygen
from water with its rectal gills, located...well, you can probably
guess where. To quickly move out of danger, it expels water from
its anus with considerable force—truly a jet-propelled animal.
Lurking in the algae mats at the bottom of a sluggish stream or
pond, the naiad eats and grows, shedding its skin many times,
for up to three years. At its last molt, it climbs out of the
water and splits its skin for the last time. The adult emerges
with crumpled wings, but in a short time they straighten and dry,
gleaming in the sun. Unlike most insects, dragonflies take some
time to mature sexually although they’ve completed their
last molt.
Common Whitetail (Plathemis lydia) male
A male Common Whitetail accumulates bluish-white pigment on the
upper surface of his abdomen as he ages. Recently emerged males
have a brown abdomen, but they do show the same wing pattern as
a mature male.
From May to October, Common Whitetails are some of the most common
dragonflies skimming the ponds and quiet waterways of our area.
Males establish territories which they routinely patrol. Each
male will have a few favorite perches from which he will watch
for other dragonflies. He’ll quickly chase off other species
of dragonflies, but he’ll attack other male Whitetails with
particular vigor. If he spots a female Whitetail he will try to
mate with her. Mating takes place in the air. The pair return
to the water’s surface, where the female repeatedly dips
the tip of her abdomen in the water, releasing her eggs. The male
hovers over her, driving off other males that might try to mate
with her. By the time of autumn’s killing frosts, thousands
of eggs have drifted down to rest on underwater mud.
I spent many summers chasing Whitetails, and I’m still captivated
by the speed and precision of their flight. Sit beside any pond
and it’s more than likely a Whitetail will zip by in a few
moments.
Common Whitetail female
A female has a different wing pattern and a series of white spots
along each side of her abdomen.
A Common Whitetail naiad
The naiad extends its claw-like labium to catch prey. When not
in use, the labium is tucked under the head and thorax. Perhaps
a sci-fi monster has been modeled after this fearsome larva!
A Common Whitetail Lookalike
Twelve-spotted Skimmer (Libellula pulchella) male
Like the Common Whitetail, a male Twelve-spotted Skimmer also
has a bluish-white abdomen and often lives in the same habitat.
However, his wing pattern is nothing like the Whitetail’s.
Twelve-spotted Skimmer female
A female Twelve-spotted Skimmer is easily confused with a female
Common Whitetail. She is larger and has yellow stripes along the
sides of her abdomen.
back
to index
|
Bigleaf Maple
by Lisa Millbank
In April, rich Bigleaf Maple forests are flooded with light, carpeted
with ferns and wildflowers, and draped with glowing green moss.
As the leaves unfurl, maple woods become cool, shady retreats
for hot summer days.
The name says it all: Bigleaf Maple leaves grow larger than any
of the 125 other maples in the world. It’s common everywhere
from dry slopes to moist riverbanks, parks and yards.
There is a spellbinding quality to old maple woods. Unlike the
conifer forests, they undergo a dramatic transformation throughout
the year. Explore here in February, while pale winter sunlight
slants through leafless branches silvered with frost. Rest in
the maples’ shade in July, when the luminous green canopy
shimmers in the afternoon’s western breeze. And in October,
golden leaves blanket the winged seeds that twirled down from
the soaring branches.
Out in the open, Bigleaf Maples often grow multiple trunks and
a broadly rounded crown. Their heavy limbs can snake along the
ground. When growing in a forest, they will reach up to the light,
forming an arching canopy. Each limb bears mosses, lichens, and
liverworts that form a thin layer of soil beneath them. Over time,
the soil on the limbs is colonized by plants, and the maple itself
grows roots into the soil on its own limbs. The huge maple at
the top of this page held Licorice Fern, Large False Solomon’s-Seal,
Yellow Wood Violet, Candyflower, Pacific Bleeding-Heart, and Fringe-Cups
on its outstretched limbs.
The branch tips and leaves are a favorite food of Black-tailed
Deer and Roosevelt Elk, who can prune all the maples in an area
to a uniform “browse line”. Along deer or elk paths,
there’s another sign of their presence: to a buck or a bull,
a maple sapling makes for some satisfying late summer antler-rubbing.
The young maple may not appreciate it so much, but it’s
interesting to find these scarred and broken saplings.
Perhaps the end of the maple’s life is its greatest gift
to wildlife. Fungi begin the process of decay inside the tree.
Termites, beetle larvae, and carpenter ants remove the softened
wood. Woodpeckers excavate foraging holes and nest cavities. While
it is gradually hollowed, the tree will continue to grow with
an outer shell of living wood. Now it might become a home for
bats, a nursery for a raccoon, or a cache for a squirrel. Once
it has fallen and decayed beyond any use as a shelter, plants
grow out of its remains.
Human use of Bigleaf Maple is usually limited to lumber, but with
perseverance and lots of fuel, you can make syrup from Bigleaf
Maple sap. However, unlike the Sugar Maple and Black Maple of
northeastern North America, the concentration of sugar in Bigleaf
Maple sap is much lower. Thirty-five gallons of Bigleaf Maple
sap can be reduced to just one gallon of finished syrup. The syrup
is delicious and sweet, but has little traditional “maple”
flavor.
A Rough-skinned Newt rests on a bright fall leaf. Autumn rains
bring out newts and mushrooms, and revive the moss and lichens
that cover maple limbs.
Bigleaf Maple blossoms hang in long racemes in April. The blossoms
are edible but a little bitter. After pollination by insects,
they grow into clusters of winged seeds.
The Bigleaf Maple’s leaves are the largest of any maple
in the world. Their paired winged seeds, or samaras, grow in large
clusters and spiral to earth in late summer & fall. Be careful
when handling the samaras, as the short golden hairs covering
the seeds can sometimes become embedded in your skin.
A few samaras may remain on the tree until the following spring.
The seeds make a meal for this hungry Western Gray Squirrel.
This is one giant maple with multiple trunks. It grows on Pigeon
Butte at Finley NWR. Don and I call it “the lunch tree”
because it’s a nice place to rest and have a snack. At least
six more people could join us for lunch in this tree!
See for yourself if mammals have been using a tree cavity by checking
for hairs at the entrance. This unidentified mammal hair was caught
in moss as the animal entered or exited the hole.
Old maples often have hollow trunks that make temporary or permanent
homes for many animals. Some can accommodate big critters like
myself (inset). I wouldn’t hesitate to use a cavity like
this for an emergency shelter.
back
to index |
back
to index
Neighborhood
Naturalist • 2008 Spring: V6 #1
Vernal Pools
by Lisa Millbank
A shallow vernal pool. The clumps of grass are Tufted Hairgrass,
a native plant of wet meadows and the edges of vernal pools.
A vernal pool in an overgrown field isn’t much to look at
as it mirrors the leaden skies at winter’s end. Waterlogged,
cold and still, ringed by brown mud and dead grass, it’s
a dreary reminder of the winter rains and the clinging, sticky
clay that cakes inches-deep on boot soles.
But look closer. Black specks whirl among filaments of algae.
Tiny red critters dart erratically, and a larva lumbers across
the bottom in a silken case. Bird tracks pattern the mud at the
edge. Green sprouts encircle the pool, growing quickly in the
rich silt.
Tricolor Monkeyflower
A rare plant, Tricolor Monkeyflower can be seen at Marys River
Natural Park in Corvallis. The pink, yellow, white and maroon
blossoms sometimes dwarf the plant itself.
Common Yellow Monkeyflower
Common Yellow Monkeyflower thrives in wet prairies, ditches, seeps
and riverbanks: wherever it’s wet through the spring.
Oregon Coyote-Thistle
This is a member of the family Apiaceae, which includes Queen
Anne’s Lace and Cow Parsnip, but the Oregon Coyote-Thistle
looks more like a plant from a Dr. Seuss book to me.
Elegant Downingia
At the end of May masses of these deep blue flowers crowd drying
vernal pools and ditches.
Needle-leaved Navarretia
Needle-leaved Navarretia is a spiny member of the phlox family.
A close relative, Skunkweed, lives up to its name with a skunk-like
smell.
Large Popcorn Flower
Acres of flowers fill a field at Finley National Wildlife Refuge.
Copepods
Many freshwater copepods in are in the genus Cyclops. A trio of
bright red Cyclops swims in my palm. A female (right) is developing
two healthy-looking clusters of eggs alongside her tail.
Ostracods
These ostracods on my fingertip show why some people call them
“seed shrimp”. In the water, they swim around busily
with their legs and and antennae extending out from the shell,
hinge side up, and most species eat algae. These two closed their
tiny clam-like shells when I removed them from the water.
Pacific Chorus Frog
Every warm spring night is filled with male Pacific Chorus Frogs
singing together at the edges of wetlands. Look for their tadpoles
in pools large and small as the days warm.
Red-legged Frog
Red-legged Frogs breed in larger vernal pools where their eggs,
tadpoles and tiny young frogs are safe from predators.
Greater Yellowlegs
Greater Yellowlegs pick small animals from shallow seasonal wetlands.
Vernal pools are shallow wetlands that fill up in fall or winter
and dry up completely in summer. They may be small ponds or puddles,
or entire prairies that flood in winter and dry in the summer.
They’re places of extremes. Any creature or plant making
its permanent home in a vernal wetland must be equipped to survive
immersion for months, followed by a drought that literally cracks
the soil apart.
Unlike permanent wetlands, a vernal pool hosts no willows, cattails,
wapato or other drought-intolerant wetland plants. Oregon Ash
is one of the only native trees that may grow at the edge of a
vernal pool, and it may be joined by a few hardy shrubs like the
Nootka Rose and Peahip Rose.
Many wildflowers growing in vernal pools are annuals. Between
the recession of the water and the drying of the soil, they find
a brief window of time in which to grow, bloom, and set seed.
Vernal pool plants tend to be small, but they pack together to
blanket the dry pool with masses of color. As the plant starts
to wither, its flowers may go on blooming – truly going
out in a blaze of glory, with the seeds maturing just as the plant
dies. The seeds fall to the parched soil in the summer, where
they bake on the desiccated surface. As the pool fills sometime
in the late fall or winter, the seeds endure up to six months
of submersion.
Don and I visited a seasonally-flooded field at W.L. Finley National
Wildlife Refuge that was completely covered with acres of Large
Popcorn Flower. Under a clear blue sky we walked through this
white landscape of flowers, their pungent fragrance almost overpowering,
with the hum of thousands of bees collecting a bonanza of nectar
and the rich, liquid songs of Western Meadowlarks all around us.
Rodents and seed-eating birds, like the Ring-necked Pheasant and
many finches and sparrows, would feast after these plants withered
and shed their seeds. This field hosted a dazzling encore to the
spectacular popcorn flower display: a blue lake of Elegant Downingia
appeared as the popcorn flowers faded. A vernal pool provides
an ever-changing succession of blooms as the water recedes and
different flowers appear.
Algae grows abundantly in vernal pools, and swarms of tiny animals
graze on the underwater pastures it forms. Crustaceans such as
ostracods, copepods, and cladocerans produce hardy eggs that can
withstand desiccation, or the adults themselves may enter diapause,
a form of dormancy, during the summer drought. Insects like caddisflies
and mosquitoes use the vernal pool for their larval stage and
then emerge as a flying adult. A microscope reveals rotifers,
tardigrades, and nematodes that are too small for the naked eye,
but are by far the most numerous of the creatures inhabiting the
pool. But as the water evaporates in summer, their lives too must
be suspended. These creatures undergo anhydrobiosis when they
desiccate. They secrete a sugar called trehalose that protects
their cells from damage during their long wait for the returning
rains.
Although many animals live in or find food in vernal pools, the
summer drought excludes all native fish. Because the fish and
most other aquatic predators are absent, tiny critters like aquatic
insects, copepods and ostracods can become very abundant. The
shallow water and mud offers excellent hunting to Wilson’s
Snipe, Western & Least Sandpipers, Dunlin, Killdeer, Lesser
& Greater Yellowlegs, and many other wading birds. Some of
them pick at the crustaceans and insects in the water, while others
probe the soft mud with their sensitive bills. Migrating shorebirds
stop at wet fields and vernal pools to fill their bellies on their
long flights. As the water recedes, the mud records the story
of its avian visitors – it may be peppered with many holes
from their long bills.
The introduced Bullfrog takes more than a year to grow from egg
to tadpole to frog, thus, a seasonally-dry vernal pool will not
support it. As Bullfrogs have established themselves in permanent
wetlands, the rare Red-legged Frog has become more dependent on
vernal pools. Bullfrogs eat young Red-legged Frogs and their tadpoles
when the two species breed together in permanent wetlands. Pacific
Chorus Frogs thrive in vernal pools as well, filling warm spring
nights with their wonderful chorus.
Every vernal pool is unique, with its own combination of residents
and visitors. Unfortunately, there are not many wet prairies and
vernal pools left in the Willamette Valley because most have been
filled or converted to agriculture. A seasonally wet mounded prairie
filled with spring flowers still grows at W.L. Finley National
Wildlife Refuge. Marys River Natural Park offers a place to see
rare Tricolor Monkeyflower and masses of Elegant Downingia. But
sometimes a vernal pool can be closer to home. We appreciate one
pool, visible from our apartment, right behind a Safeway store…hardly
a wild place, but supporting all kinds of life. There may be one
near you in a vacant lot, a drying roadside ditch, or the edge
of a field.
back
to index
|
| Willamette Valley
Swallows
by Don Boucher
Swallows are migrants who leave our area in winter. We love swallows
for their graceful flights and sweet sounds. But make no mistake—these
little birds are blood-thirsty carnivores! Swallows live on nothing
more than aerial insects. The only exception is the Tree Swallow,
which rarely eats berries, but all swallows are committed hunters.
In our area there are six species of swallows; four are common.
The Purple Martin, a swallow not featured here, is rare in the
valley. They nest in the Fern Ridge area in Lane County, the Oregon
Coast, Columbia Gorge and occasionally in forest clearings in
the mountains.
Cavity nesters
The Violet-green and Tree Swallows look for existing cavities
(often made by woodpeckers) in tree hollows or nest boxes provided
by people. In the nest cavity, a cup of dry grass is lined with
white feathers. At the Dunawi Creek Community Garden, we set up
three nest boxes. One box was occupied by Tree Swallows and the
other by Violet-green Swallows. Gardeners were respectful of the
nesting swallows and human activity often occurred just a few
feet from parents feeding the chicks. The third box was occupied
by wasps. We’ll see what we get this year.
“Cavity” builders
The common Barn Swallow makes cup nests of mud and straw lined
with white feathers on natural sites such as cliffs but much more
commonly under the eaves of buildings. They are often solitary
nesters but a suitable site such as a large barn may have dozen
or more nests.
Cliff Swallows nest in colonies of sometimes more than 100 nests.
They make gourd-shaped nests of mud and clay with a downward-facing
opening. Cliffs may be used but bridge overpasses and barns are
more common. Cliff Swallows are not widespread but you will likely
find a colony under any large concrete bridge over a river in
the Willamette Valley.
Swallows spend more time in the air so it’s important to
know them from below. Only the Barn Swallow has a unique shape
with its forked tail. Tree and Violet-green Swallows are nearly
indistinguishable from below. They both have white bellies and
throats (except fledglings).
Other swallows have darker bellies. Swallows fold their wings
when they flap. The Vaux’s Swift flies at break-neck speed
and flutters rapidly with seemingly stiff wings. Swifts are darker
than all of our swallows.
The Northern Rough-winged Swallow is uncommon and makes burrows
in steep riverbanks and a nest of twigs, plants and grass. They
are not colony nesters, but a suitable site may have a few nests.
A good way to see them is take a canoe ride down any river in
June. The bird to the right was photographed over Greasy Creek
in Philomath.
The Barn Swallow is common in farms, parks, ball fields and airports.
The tail is significantly longer than our other swallows. It has
an iridescent indigo back and wings with a black tail. The throat
and belly are rust colored.
The Tree Swallow is common in open areas, often near water. The
throat and belly are white. The head wings and rump are iridescent
blue and violet with dark gray wing tips and tail. Fledglings
are dull colored and look similar to the Northern Rough-winged
Swallow.
The Northern Rough-winged Swallow is uncommon and found primarily
around rivers. Adults and young are brownish-gray with a light
gray belly and whitish under the tail.
The Cliff Swallow is found where there are suitable sites for
nesting colonies, usually near water. It has gray wings and tail.
The blue back has characteristic white dashes. The head is dark
with a white forehead.
The Violet-green Swallow is common and the primary swallow of
urban areas. It looks like a Tree Swallow but has shades of iridescent
green and violet. The white extends to the rump and the eye is
surrounded by white.
The Vaux’s Swift (pronounced “vox-es”) is not
a swallow. It is more closely related to a hummingbird than to
a swallow. It is common in urban areas and in forests. A swift
spends its waking hours in the sky hunting insects. The only time
it rests is at night when it clings to the walls of a chimney,
hollow tree or similar structure.
Swallows perch—swifts can’t. Take a close look at
swallows resting on telephone cables and you may see more than
one species. Take this opportunity to learn the differences in
plumage patterns. Compare the head, throat and belly patterns
of these swallows.
Swallow nest box: Only Violet-green and Tree Swallows use nest
boxes. The oval slot in this box excludes House Sparrows (nonnative).
Swallows aren’t picky about their nesting sites but they
prefer spots away from immediate trees limbs and shrubs. They
don’t mind other nest boxes nearby, but more than 15 feet
is advisable. Be sure to use a smooth post, like metal or PVC,
to prevent predators from accessing the nest. An inverted metal
cone around a wooden post will work too.
Bluebird nest box: This is a design specifically for bluebirds
but it will attract Violet-green and Tree Swallows. The hole design
excludes starlings but not sparrows. If bluebirds reject your
bluebird box as a nesting site, don’t worry, swallows may
accept it.
|
| back
to index |
back
to index
Neighborhood
Naturalist • 2007-08 Winter: V5 #4
Raccoons
By Don Boucher
We were looking for animal tracks on the muddy banks of the shallow
Cheadle wetlands at William L. Finley National Wildlife Refuge.
Raccoon prints were so dense it was a lost cause to find any other
species outside the hoof prints from deer and elk. We gave up tracking
and decided to relax on the banks of the wetland and watch birds.
Within ten minutes, a family of raccoons (mom and three youngsters)
appeared. They were industriously rummaging with their hands in
the water. I set the up the video camera and we watched them for
about 20 minutes. They kept moving, catching and eating their prey
with their hands, while hardly breaking stride. The youngsters were
two-thirds grown and very cute. The family made their way closer
to us, when the mother finally noticed that we were watching. She
hurried her little ones off into the tall rushes on the opposite
bank.
Finley Refuge is ideal natural habitat for raccoons. Even though
raccoons are remarkably adaptive, there are certain natural conditions
that suit them best. They typically reside near shallow water, they
must have a reliable variety of plant and animal foods and they
need trees for denning. The Refuge meets these needs perfectly.
It turns out that these same conditions found in nature are also
present in urban areas. Cities contain many water sources such as
rivers, irrigated lawns, canals, ponds and fountains. Cities have
a variety of foods such as fruit trees, gardens, trash cans and
restaurant dumpsters. In urban areas, buildings, other structures
and trees are opportunities for raccoons for them to seek refuge
and for sleeping.
Raccoons are in the mammalian order Carnivora, which includes cats,
dogs, weasels, bears, sea lions and seals. Many of the animals in
this order are primarily meat eaters but the raccoon is a prolific
omnivore. However, the raccoon’s teeth resemble those of other
carnivores more than those of most omnivores (such as pigs or humans
for example). At the next level of classification is the raccoon
family, Procyonidae. American members of this family are ringtails
(also known as the cacomistles), coatis, kinkajous and olingos.
Most live in the tropics but a species of ringtail ranges as far
north as southern Oregon. There’s only one species in the
raccoon family that lives in the Willamette Valley—the Northern
Raccoon or Procyon lotor. The Northern Raccoon ranges from Central
America to southern Canada. There is a “southern” raccoon.
Its official name is the Crab-eating Raccoon (Procyon cancrivorus)
and it lives in South and Central America. There are as many as
five other raccoon species restricted to Caribbean Islands or islands
off the west coast of Mexico. Within the species Procyon lotor there
are a couple dozen subspecies. The subspecies Procyon lotor pacificus
is a darkish, large subspecies that lives throughout most of Oregon,
Washington and southern British Columbia. Within our population
of raccoons there is a tendency toward reddish-brown coloring. An
example of extreme coloration might be an individual photographed
in the Soap Creek Valley area of Benton County who was as red as
a fox.
The Northern Raccoon may be a commonplace animal but its natural
history is not very well understood. Early European naturalists
in North America could not agree on the relations of this animal.
Some thought raccoons were like dogs while others thought they were
like bears or cats. The affinity to bears has been the preference
up until the late 20th century. What we do know is interesting.
Recently science has matched DNA clues with dental and skeletal
patterns, and some biologists believe that the raccoon family is
most closely related to the weasel family. This new science has
also supported that the Red Panda of Asia is also in the raccoon
family but the Giant Panda is more like a bear. Be that as it may,
raccoons are neither weasels nor bears and are unique among our
wild neighbors.
A raccoon is a superbly adapted animal. It has a sharp sense of
smell and sensitive hearing. It cannot see distant objects or recognize
patterns as well as humans, but excels with better night vision
and motion detection. The raccoon’s unique claim to fame is
its sense of touch and manual dexterity. They “see”
with their hands and have a relatively large part of the brain dedicated
to processing sensory input from them. Remarkably, the hands do
not lose their sensitivity in icy water. Perhaps you have seen a
raccoon busily feeling around in shallow water, staring blankly
while mentally absorbed in what its hands are doing. This sensory
ability may be linked to the raccoon’s so-called washing habit.
A raccoon’s behavior is connected to its sense of enjoyment.
The same is true for people. Our dominant senses are vision and
hearing and therefore we like art, music and movies. Raccoons explore
their world through their hands and take pleasure in it. Research
has suggested that when a raccoon’s hands are wet, they are
more sensitive. That makes sense because they find a lot of food
in shallow water. Even when finding food in dry conditions, they
often seek a source of water in which to dunk the food. Raccoons
eat anything and have no reservations toward ingesting gritty or
messy meals. I believe that raccoons dunk their food in water because
it enhances their ability to tactilely enjoy it. At the very least,
the increased sensitivity of wet hands may simply allow a raccoon
to evaluate its food more precisely.
Like many mammals, raccoons are predominantly nocturnal but they
won’t pass up a good food source if it’s available during
the day. While watching raccoons at the Cheadle wetlands, it was
mid-morning. So presumably the fishing was particularly good at
that time. In the city, raccoon activity is often relegated to when
most people sleep. Raccoons sleep most often during the day and
a safe place to roost is very important to them. They prefer hollow
tree cavities above ground but any cavity, a building or even a
burrow, may be used as long as it’s dry. In good weather they
may sleep on an exposed tree limb. An area without trees or suitable
roosting sites will have very few or no raccoons.
Aren’t the raccoon’s mask and striped tail charming?
It’s not clear exactly why raccoons have evolved to look the
way they do. Masked facial patterns are common in many mammals and
birds. A mask’s function can make the pattern of a face appear
cryptic, aiding in camouflage. Another reason for such patterns
is species recognition, like a kind of signature for the species.
Raccoons are not predominantly dependent on camouflage, so perhaps
their tail and facial patterns are more useful for recognition.
The raccoons, ringtails, coatis and the Red Panda all have striped
tails and maybe the tail pattern was especially useful to a common
ancestor. We do know that the striped tail and masked face of the
raccoon exists because it is somehow functional to the species.
Raccoons are problem solvers. Years ago I worked in a kitchen at
a restaurant. Raccoons were a familiar sight as they often raided
our dumpsters. One night, after my shift was over, one of the cooks
called me over to the back door where we accessed the dumpster.
Through a narrow crack in the door we peeked as a raccoon went to
work on the dumpster. There was a pile of empty cardboard boxes
nearby. The raccoon pushed cardboard boxes, one at a time, over
to the side of the dumpster. When the boxes were as high as the
dumpster, the raccoon climbed in. On previous occasions the raccoons
were discouraged and chased away, but not that night. In our judgment,
this raccoon earned its meal of half-eaten baked potatoes and steak
scraps! ó
In the summer, we set up a motion-sensing camera near Dunawi Creek
in our neighborhood. The tree was smeared with peanut butter and
apples were scattered about. One rascal is dangling fram a small
branch (right photo) in an attempt to reach a tree-bound apple.
This raccoon was sleeping in a tree on mild spring day. Moments
before the photo was taken, Western Scrub-Jays were scolding the
raccoon (raccoons often raid bird nests). The raccoon was too sleepy
and stubborn and the jays gave up their vigilance. conditions,they
often seek a source of water in which to dunk the food.Raccoons
eat anything and have no reservations toward ingesting gritty or
messy meals.I believe that raccoons dunk their food in water because
it enhances their ability to tactilely enjoy it.At the very least,the
increased sensitivity of wet hands may simply allow a raccoon to
evaluate its food more precisely.
Like many mammals,raccoons are predominantly nocturnal but they
won ’t pass up a good food source if it ’s available
during the day.While watching raccoons at the Cheadle wetlands,it
was mid-morning.So presumably the ? shing was particularly good
at that time.In the city, raccoon activity is often relegated to
when most people sleep.Raccoons sleep most often during the day
and a safe place to roost is very important to them.Th ey prefer
hol- low tree cavities above ground but any cavity,a building or
even a burrow,may be used as long as it ’s dry.In good weather
they may sleep on an exposed tree limb.An area without trees or
suitable roosting sites will have very few or no raccoons.
Aren’t the raccoon’s mask and striped tail charming?
It ’s not clear exactly why raccoons have evolved to look
the way they do.Masked facial patterns are common in many mammals
and birds.A mask ’s function can make the pattern of a face
appear cryptic,aiding in camou ? age.
Another reason for such patterns is species recognition, like a
kind of signature for the species.Raccoons are not predominantly
dependent on camou ? age,so perhaps their tail and facial patterns
are more useful for recognition.The raccoons,ringtails,coatis and
the Red Panda all have striped tails and maybe the tail pattern
was especially useful to a common ancestor.We do know that the striped
tail and masked face of the raccoon exists because it is somehow
functional to the species.
Raccoons are problem solvers.Years ago I worked in a kitchen at
a restaurant.Raccoons were a familiar sight as they often raided
our dumpsters.One night,after my shift was over,one of the cooks
called me over to the back door where we accessed the dumpster.Th
rough a narrow crack in the door we peeked as a raccoon went to
work on the dumpster.Th ere was a pile of empty cardboard boxes
nearby.Th e raccoon pushed cardboard boxes,one at a time, over to
the side of the dumpster.When the boxes were as high as the dumpster,the
raccoon climbed in.On previous occasions the raccoons were discouraged
and chased away, but not that night.In our judgment,this raccoon
earned its meal of half-eaten baked potatoes and steak scraps!?
Suggested reading:
Raccoons, A Natural History. Samuel Zeveloff.
2002 Smithsonian Institution
?The raccoon hand print (front foot, left) is slightly wider than
long. The rear foot (right) has a long heel like a human or bear
but it may not register depending on soil type or the raccoon’s
gait. Claw marks usually show.
? Raccoon tracks (black circles) and River Otter tracks (white circles)
side by side on the east bank of the Willamette River in downtown
Corvallis. The simplest way to distiguish them is that raccoons
have finger-like toes but otter toes are round.
Suggested reading:
Raccoons, A Natural History. Samuel I. Zeveloff.
2002 Smithsonian Institution
back
to index
|
Ice Age Flood
by Lisa Millbank
Fifteen thousand years ago,in the last few millennia of the Ice
Age,a lobe of the Cordilleran Ice Sheet dammed the Clark Fork
River on the Idaho panhandle.Th e impoundment created a vast inland
sea extending far into western Montana.Glacial Lake Missoula covered
2,900 square miles and held 530 cubic miles of water at its maximum
size (about half the volume of Lake Michigan).Increasing pressure
against the ice dam melted some of the ice,allowing water to enter
? aws in the ice and gradually enlarge the ? ssures.Finally,the
weakened dam began to shatter, sending loud cracks and groans
echoing o ? the surrounding mountains.With a ? nal thundering
report,the dam exploded outward,and the earth trembled as a wall
of water 2,000 feet high surged forth.What had been placid Glacial
Lake Missoula was now a towering monster,plowing across the Idaho
panhandle at 70 miles per hour.
The flood overran northeastern Washington’s Glacial
Lake Columbia,scoured the rolling Palouse country (where it picked
up billions of tons of fertile loess),and backed up at the bottleneck
of the Columbia Gorge.Squeezed into the narrow channel,the ? ood
tore away at the andesite walls of the Gorge. At the site of present-day
Portland,the land quivered and an ominous rumble from the east
announced the approach of the waters.A powerful wind gusted over
the Portland Valley,the menacing roar grew louder,and the waters
arrived.From the mouth of the Gorge erupted a 500-foot wall of
water,muddied by the soil it carried, laden with uprooted trees,and
capped with icebergs that floated all the way from Montana.
At Portland,the floodwaters crashed against Rocky Butte and the
Tualatin Hills.Northeast of Portland,the Columbia River enters
the Kalama Narrows.Th ough nearly two miles wide,the passage was
too small for the massive flood,and the water rose behind it.Th
e backed-up waters fountained through two gaps in the Tualatin
Hills.One gap was the historic channel of the Tualatin River (where
Lake Oswego nowlies).The other gap was the Willamette River channel.
In minutes,the flood overwhelmed the Tualatin and Willamette Rivers
and roared into the Willamette Valley.
Although geologists estimate that two-thirds of the floodwaters
continued down the valley of the Columbia River to thePacific
Ocean,that still left about 175 cubic miles of water to inundate
the Willamette Valley.Imagine the unlikely islands in that dark,turbulent
lake:the Chehalem Mountains near Newburg,the Salem Hills,and the
tops of many small hills like Knox Butte near Albany.Th e brown
water that lapped at those strange new shores was choked with
rafts of trees, scattered animal carcasses, and icebergs.
As the main body of ? oodwaters exited through the Kalama Narrows
on the Columbia River,the water pooled in the Willamette Valley
began to drain.It had been there no more than a week or two,but
it had time to deposit a thick layer of fertile silt and organic
matter.It came into the valley in a ferocious rush,but now it
left slowly.Along the receding shorelines,huge icebergs came to
rest under the Ice Age sun as the water gently ebbed.
Th e flood left behind a scene of unimaginable devastation.It
sculpted solid rock,uprooted forests,and ripped away several cubic
miles of soil along its path from the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific
Ocean.It destroyed almost all animal and plant life in its way,
even the fish in the rivers.But as powerful as this flood was,there
were at least forty more cataclysmic floods .For two thousand
years,Glacial Lake Missoula filled and emptied with tremendous
force,at intervals from nine to fifty-eight years and with varying
intensity.Until the recession of the Cordilleran Ice Sheet,glacial
ice continued to advance and dam the Clark Fork River.
The Missoula Floods (or Spokane Floods or Bretz Floods)were some
of the most massive floods found in the geologic record.Such glacial
lake oods,also known as jökulhlaups ökulhlaups ö
,still occur in glaciated regions worldwide,fortunately on a much
smaller scale.Th e US Geological Survey estimated that the peak
flow of the largest Missoula Floods was almost ten times the combined
flow of all the world ’s rivers,around 9.5-15 cubic miles
per hour.By comparison,the average flow of Earth ’s largest
river, the Amazon,is 0.014 cubic mile per hour. Floods of this
magnitude leave many signs of their passage,and many of the well-known
features are in Washington and the Columbia Gorge.However,there
is evidence in the Willamette Valley besides the deep,layered
deposits of silt.Stranded icebergs released rocks embedded within
them as they melted.Th e ice had been part of Montana ’s
ice sheet,which enveloped tons of rock as it advanced through
mountain valleys.Th e melting ice left behind this particular
type of metamorphic rock,known as Belt rock,in conspicuous piles
of pebbles or large single boulders.Th is is unlike any rock from
the Cascades or Coast Range.Th e largest known Belt rock rests
on the foothills of the Coast Range at Erratic Rock State Natural
Site in Yamhill
Range. The largest known Belt rock rests on the foothills of the
Coast Range at Erratic Rock State Natural Site in Yamhill County.
Known as the Bellevue (or Sheridan) Erratic, it is truly ancient
like the other Belt rocks, around one billion years old. But the
most exotic traveling rock is the Willamette Meteorite. This large
iron-nickel meteorite was found near West Linn among other ice-rafted
rocks, and because there was no impact crater associated with
the meteorite, it must have been transported in ice. Unfortunately,
the meteorite now resides at the American Museum of Natural History
in New York City instead of on the forested hill where it came
to rest after the floods. For millennia the meteorite was visited
by local Native Americans, for whom it had great cultural significance.
Lesser but interesting erratics still dot the Willamette Valley,
but many prominent erratics in fields were blasted away long ago.
Most erratics are in the form of small rocks that don’t
look like anything special; they are often scattered within the
gravel bars of rivers.
Multnomah Falls in the Columbia River Gorge. The floods ripped
away the andesite slopes, leaving behind near-vertical cliffs.
The repeated devastation of the Willamette Valley must have had
a tremendous impact on the plants and animals. Kenton L. Chambers
proposes that the floods may have given rise to three unique species
of Willamette Valley larkspurs. He believes that the disturbed
plant communities resulting from the floods and the fresh deposits
of silt allowed for rapid evolution through hybridization and/or
mutation. One of these species is the beautiful white Peacock
Larkspur (Delphinium pavonaceum) that grows in prairie remnants
close to Corvallis. Its parent species is thought to be the purple
Delphinium menziesii. Once white-flowered mutations appeared,
perhaps in tiny populations spared by the floods, they may have
attracted different insect pollinators than their purple cousins.
Reproductively isolated, they would have continued on their own
course as a separate species. The story of the larkspurs’
heritage is probably just one of many such changes that were set
into motion by the floods; how many is impossible to guess.
Some evidence suggests that humans may have lived in the Northwest
near the time of the Missoula Floods. Projectile points and mammoth
bone tools made by people of the Clovis culture were found near
Wenatchee, Washington. Archaeologists believe these Clovis points
to be around 11,000 years old, a time that approaches that of
the last Missoula Floods. Could there have been humans in the
Willamette Valley in those days? It seems likely that if humans
were living in the path of any of the great floods, evidence of
their presence would have been washed away and lost forever or
buried under layer upon layer of silt.
The Columbia Gorge owes its ribbon of andesite cliffs, now adorned
with dozens of waterfalls, to the Missoula Floods. Washington’s
spectacular flood features such as Dry Falls, Grand Coulee, and
the Channeled Scablands reveal the scale and power of the water.
These places are the tourist attractions, and rightly so. But
we should also remember the awesome events that carried the soil
from the windswept hills of eastern Washington. Because in this
great, silty lakebed we call the Willamette Valley, the very soil
beneath our feet tells the story. ó
Suggested reading:
Glacial Lake Missoula and Its Humongous Floods. David Alt. 2001
Mountain Press Publishing Company.
back
to index
|
| |
back
to index
Neighborhood
Naturalist • 2007 Fall: V5 #3
Killdeer
by Don Boucher
Both urban and country folks regard Killdeer as everyday birds.
Indeed, they are numerous year-round residents throughout much of
North America. Familiarity may lead to disinterest but it is my
goal to point out that this disinterest is shortsighted. It is unfortunate
that we often miss some of the most fascinating spectacles in nature
simply because we have a prejudice against the familiar and expect
the exotic to be more captivating. There are some interesting things
about this common bird that most people don’t know. In addition,
some of the reasons Killdeer are common makes them stand out among
other familiar birds.
Killdeer are in the family Charadriidae, commonly known as plovers.
Plovers share general characteristics with other closely related
families under the collective term shorebirds, or birds in the suborder
Charadrii. These are small to medium-sized birds with a wide range
of bill and leg lengths, but all are adapted to probing for animal
food in shallow water, sand, mud or from the surface. Many shorebirds
are associated with water. There are two other species of plover
in the Willamette Valley: the Black-bellied Plover and the Semipalmated
Plover (not to be confused with the Semipalmated Sandpiper). These
two species are uncommon migrants, which pass through our area in
the spring and fall.
Killdeer and other plovers are short-billed and have a characteristic
running and stopping foraging method in which their prey is spotted
and captured from the surface. Most shorebirds are gregarious and
form large roosting or flying flocks, but not Killdeer. In the winter,
I have seen fields with as many as 600 scattered individuals but
this has more to do with their attraction to a food source than
a desire for one another’s company. Breeding pairs are territorial
and readily squabble with neighboring Killdeer. After the young
have fledged, the family group will stay together through part of
the summer.
A Killdeer is just as likely to be found in a pristine estuary with
endangered plants and animals as in the middle of an industrial
wasteland deep in the interior of the continent. They are successful
in a world where many birds are threatened. Killdeer are unique
in their adaptability to habitat and in their population size. In
the Willamette Valley, they are common all year and appear in high
numbers in the winter. The Corvallis Christmas Bird Count covers
an area within a 7.5-mile radius around the Corvallis Airport. Birders
count a few thousand Killdeer each year, with 10,728 being the record.
Killdeer numbers in Willamette Valley Christmas Bird Counts are
some of the highest in the continent. Killdeer are by far the most
common North American shorebird.
Like most shorebirds, Killdeer nest on the ground. Killdeer are
monogamous and both parents look after the eggs and raise the young.
Males do most of the nest brooding. The nest is nothing more than
a scraped hollow, preferably in a barren gravelly area or at least
sparse vegetation. The Killdeer’s breeding strategy is based
on cryptic eggs and that a barren gravel bed will have very little
traffic from large animals (including humans) which might accidentally
step on the nest. During the summer, eggs are kept from overheating
by the parent brooding with moistened belly feathers. Killdeer are
famous for their predator distraction display while nesting. They
fake a broken wing, fan their tail and run away from the nesting
area. An astute observer might notice that they may switch the “broken”
wing in mid-display but it is nevertheless effective in distracting
or confusing anybody who might threaten their nest. Other plover
species have similar displays. Chicks are precocial (up and running
around soon after hatching) and are unspeakably cute cotton balls
with oversized legs.
Killdeer are noisy and the Latin name for the species, vociferus,
is rather apt. The English name Killdeer is representative of its
main call. In the field guide Birds of the Willamette Valley Region,
its voice is described: “Varied strident calls include kill
deeah, deee and dee ahy. Gives high, rapid trill when nervous”.
Killdeer are internationally characterized by their voice. The Spanish
name is tildio and in French, it’s kildir. The “killdeer”
call is most often associated with social activity, while other
calls are associated with alarm or distress. It takes little to
alarm a Killdeer. They are sentinels in their own ecological communities
and are often the first species to sound the alarm when a predator
or threat is identified.
listen
to the sounds of Killdeer
Killdeer are well-studied but it is interesting what is not known
about them. It is not exactly known why Killdeer are often as
active at night as during the day. Most terrestrial bird species
are predominantly active during the day while others, such as
owls or nighthawks, are active at night. Shorebirds are primarily
adapted to foraging at low tide. Many shorebirds with long bills
feed by touch, but plovers have large eyes to see their prey on
the surface of tidal flats at night. Inland Killdeer do not follow
tidal cycles but I suspect that Killdeer, being shorebirds, have
an innate tendency and ability to be active either day or night.
Find the nearest field, empty lot or wetland—you probably
have Killdeer in your neighborhood. Get your binoculars and spend
some time watching them. They have many quirky, stylized behaviors.
In the spring they are particularly active and entertaining. In
winter look for them in fields with foraging blackbirds, starlings
and robins. On mud flats from mid-April through mid-May or from
mid-August through September, do a double take on Killdeer and
you may find the occasional, similar-looking Semipalmated Plover.
They are smaller with only one black breast band. ó
Suggested Field Guides
1. Shorebirds of North America, The Photographic Guide. By Dennis
Paulson. 2005 Princeton University Press
2. Birds of the Willamette Valley Region. By Harry Nehls, Tom
Aversa and Hal Opperman. 2004 R.W. Morse Company.
back
to index |
Roosevelt Elk
by Lisa Millbank
It was mid-September at W.L.Finley National Wildlife Refuge.Don
and I and our friend Stephanie spotted a distant Roosevelt Elk hurrying
westward across the dry mud ?ats of Cabell Marsh.The huge bull turned
southward and started toward us.He limped painfully,with his tongue
lolling out and his nostrils ?ared.We wondered if he had been injured
in combat with another bull,and soon the question was answered as
another big bull,with a high-stepping trot and proud bearing,appeared
in the distance.The ?rst bull looked anxiously behind him and hastened
on, trying to evade his rival.He was getting too close for our comfort
when he ?nally noticed us and stopped – panting, con?icted,and
hurt.He eventually turned away from us and limped away to meet his
fate.
A bull Elk spends his life preparing for the dramatic events of
the breeding season from September to early November.If he can dominate
other bulls and attract cows, his reward is great:he may father
many calves.But the stakes are high and an injured bull like this
one may lose his chance to breed for another year.And although a
cow ’s experience of the breeding season is not one of physical
contests,her role is no less important.She evaluates the ?tness
of as many bulls as she can to choose the best mate. The breeding
displays and impressive antlers of bulls are largely characteristics
that evolved through thousands of generations of female sexual selection.In
the Willamette Valley,we are fortunate to have Roosevelt Elk herds
living nearby.It ’s exciting to watch the Elk during their
breeding season and to get a little insight into the seasonal patterns
of their lives.
To better understand the way Elk live,it ’s helpful to know
where they ’ve come from.The Elk of North America and eastern
Asia were once thought to be a variation of the European Red Deer,Cervus
elaphus .But DNA evidence suggests that the Elk,Cervus canadensis
,is a distinct species from the Red Deer.In the Pleistocene Era,Siberian
Elk crossed the Bering land bridge into North America, eventually
spreading across the continent as six subspecies. Elk are survivors
of the “megafauna ”extinctions of North America.They
were contemporaries of the mammoths,the American Lion,the giant
ground sloths,and the Short- faced Bear.Like the Moose,they are
a living reminder of the Ice Age;giant deer that have adapted to
climatic changes and thrived.
Media images of North American Elk are almost always of the Rocky
Mountain subspecies.They are the most numerous subspecies and are
easy to photograph in Yellowstone and other national parks and preserves.But
our subspecies,the Roosevelt Elk (Cervus canadensis roosevelti ),
is the largest of all subspecies.A mature Roosevelt bull can weigh
well over half a ton.His antlers are heavier than his Rocky Mountain
cousin ’s,though not as long,with a tendency to form a “crown
”or “basket ”of clustered tines at the ends.The
Roosevelt Elk is also darker with a thicker mane than the Rocky
Mountain Elk.Nature documentaries usually feature the Rocky Mountain
Elk in subalpine forests or on snowy rangeland,but our Roosevelt
Elk neighbors at Finley wade through bottomland marshes and endure
endless winter rains.
This magnificent bull has six tines on each of hi s i mpressi ve
ant l ers, indicating he is in general good health, at least 5 years
old,and eligible to breed.However,he suffered an injury in combat
with another bull and may be unable to defend a harem for the rest
of the breeding season. This cow was worried about something,and
as she entered the forest she mewed loudly in distress.She didn
’t notice Don and me standi ng still until she was about 15
f eet f rom us. and listened to the splashing and squealing of
excited calves as they waded in the creek. Herd life offers protection
to the calves, because it is difficult to approach all those observant
eyes, ears and noses undetected. When something startles the herd,
the Elk adopt an alert posture, but they don’t always run
as might be expected. Especially when they have young calves who
may be unable to keep up, running may be a poor strategy. Instead,
they evaluate the threat. The cows will drive away or even attack
a smaller predator like a coyote. When it’s a more serious
threat, the lead cow utters a sharp alarm bark and everyone runs.
The herd reassembles after they’ve reached safety with contact
mews and squeals. The cougar scat we found in the nearby woods
justified the cows’ vigilance.
When late summer arrives the bulls and cows assemble for breeding,
and each bull will advertise his fitness. He proudly paces around
with his polished antlers held high. He might decorate his antlers
with branches and debris to make them look larger and fancier.
He sprays urine on his belly and neck mane, and creates urine-soaked
wallows where he digs a pit and lies in the smelly mud. Urine-spraying
and digging a wallow allows a bull to impregnate his fur with
pheromones from his urine, giving him a strong odor that is presumably
attractive to cows. Near his wallow he thrashes small trees and
shreds tree bark with his antlers to create an additional visual
signal of his presence.
To me, the most wonderful and strange thing about Elk is the bull’s
bugle. It is difficult to describe the sound, but it is a resonant
bellow that rises several octaves to a reedy, clarinet-like cry,
then drops to a series of guttural grunts. The bugle is a signal
that indicates dominance to other bulls and attracts cows. The
high part of the bugle carries well in open country, while the
low part carries through woods. Our Roosevelt Elk seem to have
a deeper bugle than their Rocky Mountain cousins, reflecting their
more forest-oriented lives. To hear Elk bulls bugling as you shiver
in the first light of a clear fall morning is an extraordinary
experience.
Violent fighting between bulls is not as common as many people
assume, although fatal conflicts sometimes occur. Most of the
time, bulls establish dominance by engaging in a calm, ritual
sparring match where each participant can decide when he has had
enough. One bull approaches another, nodding his antlers in an
invitation to spar. If the other bull feels like sparring, the
two carefully engage their antlers together, pushing and turning
their heads. When one bull breaks eye contact and looks away,
his sparring partner will stop and the contest is over.
The largest dominant bulls with the most impressive antlers can
attract many cows, and are known as harem-herding bulls. A harem-herding
bull eats and sleeps very little during the exhausting breeding
season and may lose hundreds of pounds of the fat he stored during
spring and summer. He must remain alert, chasing away rival bulls,
bugling frequently, herding straying cows, and checking cows’
readiness for mating. He must provide a positive social experience
for the cows by keeping young bulls from harassing them, courting
each one patiently, and moving with them as they find food. Despite
a harem-herding bull’s efforts to retain cows, there is
nothing he can do to keep them if they prefer another bull. But
if he is successful, he will father many of the calves born next
summer.
For the Elk, it is the most dramatic time in their yearly cycle.
There are a few reliable places to see them gathering for their
breeding season around the Willamette Valley and beyond: William
L. Finley NWR, the Walton Ranch Interpretive Trail east of Sweet
Home, Jewell Meadows Wildlife Area in Tillamook State Forest,
and Dean Creek Elk Viewing Area near Reedsport. Clear days and
cold nights make it a wonderful time to be outside. As the golden
colors of the Bigleaf Maple and Oregon Ash herald the onset of
autumn, so does the bugle of the Roosevelt Elk. back
to index |
| |
back
to index
Neighborhood
Naturalist • 2007 Summer: V5 #2
Western Pond Turtle
Clemmys marmorata
by Lisa Millbank
On lazy summer days, when the still air is heavy with the scent
of tarweed and the toneless buzzing of cicadas, some of the most
venerable and aged residents of the Willamette Valley sunbathe in
quiet ponds and river backwaters. Western Pond Turtles may see seventy
summers, a lifespan unmatched by any other non-human species in
our area. They are the only turtle native to the southern parts
of the Willamette Valley, and while their numbers are much fewer
now than in the past, good sites still exist where these turtles
contentedly bask in the sunshine.
The Western Pond Turtle grows to be about eight inches long. It
is omnivorous, eating almost any food of animal or plant origin.
It catches insects, fish, crayfish, and amphibians, eats cattail,
wapato, and other aquatic plants, and snaps up any carrion it finds.
It has wrinkly, pebbly skin, long claws, and prominent nostrils
at the tip of the snout, allowing it to submerge and still breathe
with only the snout protruding. Its upper shell (carapace) is dull
dark olive or brown, often mottled. The lower shell (plastron) is
yellowish to dark brown, and is concave in males and convex in females.
In waters that contain tannins from plants, the shell is stained
a uniform dark brown. The Western Pond Turtle’s dull color
distinguishes it from the colorful Painted Turtle, which is also
native to northwestern Oregon, but rare south of Salem. Sliders,
Snapping Turtles, and many other species can occur in some areas;
these exotic turtles are released pets.
As a reptile, the Western Pond Turtle spends much of its time optimizing
its body temperature by basking or submerging itself in water. When
it emerges from hibernation in early spring, a turtle will sit on
its favorite basking log, head high, slowly blinking in the bright
sunshine; a true sun worshipper. Multiple turtles climb on the best
logs and sometimes, as their bodies warm up, they jostle, ram, or
even bite their neighbors. But once everyone is comfortable they
coexist quite peacefully.
I had wished for many years that I could touch a Western Pond Turtle
but they were always out of reach—swift swimmers in their
aquatic world. When a male turtle crossed a gravel road this spring,
I had my chance and picked him up. He immediately withdrew his head,
legs, and tail into his shell and hoped I would go away. I released
him on the other side of the road, still shut tightly into his protective
armor.
The best time to look for turtles basking on logs is mid-morning
as they warm themselves in the sun. This turtle lives at Marys River
Natural Park in Corvallis.
Though they are aquatic turtles, they can wander long distances
over land on their stumpy legs. During their slow journeys, turtles
become vulnerable to predators such as Coyotes and Raccoons that
pose little threat when they can dive to safety in ponds. They may
be hit by cars as they amble across roads. Turtles travel over land
to disperse from an overpopulated pond or when conditions are unfavorable.
A male turtle may also leave his natal pond to seek females. An
adult female turtle leaves the water in the late spring or summer
to lay her eggs.
Western Pond Turtles must reach the age of 10-14 years before mating.
A mated female turtle digs a hole and lays from one to a dozen leathery
eggs, usually on a south-facing slope, up to a quarter-mile from
her pond. She carefully conceals her nest and leaves it. Many nests
are complete failures due to predation. Raccoons, whose numbers
are unnaturally high around human habitation, find and eat many
turtle eggs, but Striped and Spotted Skunks, River Otters, and Coyotes
also dig up nests.
A successful clutch of eggs hatches after 80-100 days. The average
temperature to which the eggs were exposed over their incubation
period determines the sex of the little turtles. Warmer temperatures
produce females and cooler temperatures produce males. Often the
hatchlings overwinter in their nest and do not emerge until spring.
A hatchling’s shell is only one inch long. The tiny creature
has little protection against introduced Bullfrogs and Largemouth
Bass. Poor survival rates for young turtles and extensive habitat
loss have contributed to this species’ overall decline. However,
because adult turtles are hardy and long-lived animals, it is hoped
that they can successfully repopulate with habitat protection.
Turtle-watching takes some patience. A Western Pond Turtle is a
wary and shy creature. Approach a pond too quickly and any basking
turtles will slip into the water in an instant. Keen vision enables
turtles to detect you up to 100 yards away. It helps to use binoculars
and hide behind shrubs and trees while advancing toward a turtle
pond, checking every log that protrudes from the water. Marys River
Natural Park in Corvallis offers a good look at turtles who are
used to foot traffic on the nearby sidewalk and not too shy. Wilder
turtles demanding a little more stealth live at Snag Boat Bend National
Wildlife Refuge on Peoria Rd., Herbert Open Space south of Corvallis,
William L. Finley National Wildlife Refuge, and Willamette River
Greenway Park at Truax Island. Other populations exist at scattered
sites throughout the Willamette Valley. back
to index |
Turkey Vulture
by Don Boucher
One sunny summer day I was hiking in the forested hills north of
Corvallis. I had lunch at the edge of a forest clearing. I took
a nap in the sunshine and I awoke with my face shaded. I had mistakenly
assumed the sun had drifted behind a fir bough but it came to my
attention that I was shaded by a Turkey Vulture, perching on a nearby
snag with its wings spread and sunning itself. It was so close I
could see its gentle brown eye. Its naked red head was slightly
fuzzy on top and behind the eyes. This magnificent bird had such
a calming presence, unlike the intense posture and glaring eyes
of hawks, eagles and owls.
This vulture had not mistaken me for a sick animal or carcass. Turkey
Vultures, as you would expect, are keen observers. My relaxed, regular
breaths would have told the vulture that I wasn’t a candidate
for a meal. The other missing cue was the essence of rotting corpse,
the chemical ethyl mercaptan. Unlike most birds, Turkey Vultures
have a keen sense of smell and ethyl mercaptan is their dinner bell.
Turkey Vultures prefer fresh meat but can easily make a meal of
meat so spoiled it would make other creatures ill. Their digestive
juices are so acidic that their feces are sterile. They often excrete
on their legs, but this is no accident. The moisture from their
urine helps the bird cool off in hot weather. This is a trait they
share with storks.
This is a clue to the Turkey Vulture’s true family history.
Even though they resemble eagles or hawks, vultures in the Americas,
such as the condors, and Black and King Vultures, are more closely
related to storks and flamingos. This is not so with vultures in
Europe, Asia and Africa, which are true birds of prey.
Turkey Vultures may be recognized by their tiny heads , large primary
feathers or “fingers” and the specific black and gray
pattern on the undersides of the wings.
Unlike other soaring birds, they rely heavily on their wing tips
to steer and appear as if they are unstable or “tippy.”
They also consistently hold a characteristic “V” position
while soaring.
Sunning not only warms the bird but may also kill bacteria and parasites.
It is common to see them roosting together. Roosting occurs at night
or just for a mid-day rest, especially after a meal.
These vultures are scavenging rodents recently killed by mowing.
Turkey Vultures are up to 32 inches long, with a wingspan around
6 feet. Healthy adult Turkey Vultures weigh approximately 6 pounds.
This is an elk carcass at William L. Finley National Wildlife Refuge
in southern Benton County. Notice the Turkey Vulture feather on
the lower left and white droppings from vultures perching on the
carcass.
Turkey Vultures are gregarious and enjoy soaring together, even
if there is no prospect for food.
When I look into the eyes of a Turkey Vulture, it’s obvious
to me they are a breed apart from the hawks and eagles. American
Vultures lack the heavy brow or supraorbital ridge of hawks and
eagles. Turkey Vultures lack the long, hooked, razor-sharp talons
of a hunter.
Harbingers of Spring
The Turkey Vulture is the first migratory bird to arrive in the
Willamette Valley. The first few vultures arrive in early February
but most arrive throughout March. By summer, the Turkey Vulture
is the most common soaring bird in the sky. Soaring saves energy
and a Turkey Vulture is the master. It can glide for hours with
hardly a wing flap. Wind currents and rising warm air are the vulture’s
free ride. Even though there are plenty of dead things to eat during
the Willamette Valley winters, the weather conditions aren’t
suitable for soaring. Only while soaring can a vulture find food.
So our vultures migrate to Southern California, the American Southwest
and Mexico in September and return in late winter and early spring.
Turkey Vultures have a sporadic food source. They must prepare to
go long periods without food. They are accustomed to saving energy
whenever they can. They wait until late morning for favorable air
currents before they take to the air. If a vulture finds a carcass,
and there’s no obvious competition, it may perch nearby and
wait hours before feeding. Animal carcasses attract some dangerous
predators and it’s always safer to wait.
Vultures are patient and relaxed birds. I once watched a pair of
perched Turkey Vultures in a mating ritual. One bird took five minutes
to tip its spread wings from one side to the other. Turkey Vulture
sexes look alike, but in this instance, I could tell that this was
a male’s breeding display since he then mounted the female.
Turkey Vultures are patient and relaxed birds. Everything they do
takes due course and they are rarely hurried. It’s something
I admire about them. The Cherokee regard the Turkey Vulture as the
“peace eagle.” The Latin name for Turkey Vulture is
Cathartes aura. Cathartes mean “cleanser.”
Turkey Vultures range throughout North America (as far north as
southern Canada), Central and South America. They are the Willamette
Valley’s only vulture. During winter months, Bald Eagles and
Common Ravens take up the role as aerial carrion dispatchers.
Turkey Vultures have poor vocalization capabilities. They have no
vocal organ and can only hiss and grunt. They usually hiss when
they feel threatened. Grunts are commonly heard from hungry young,
and adults in courtship.
The late Franz Dolp told me a story of a Turkey Vulture nest he
found on his property in Burnt Woods. The nest was atop a hollowed
tree stump on a steep slope. When he went to get a peek at the nestlings,
one of the young birds coughed up a vile, reeking pile of half-digested
meat. This is a defense measure. If the smell doesn’t drive
away a would-be predator, an easy meal of meat bits may offer distraction.
In addition to providing sanitary cleanup of rotting carcasses,
the Turkey Vulture’s sense of smell is an asset to humans.
Those who maintain gas pipelines watch Turkey Vultures to tell them
where gas leaks are. The smelly additive in propane and natural
gas attracts Turkey Vultures.
Those white puffy clouds of summer allude to perfect conditions
for Turkey Vulture soaring. Each puffy cloud is at the top of a
column of rising warm air. Take a pleasant summer afternoon, watch
the clouds drift by and enjoy the buoyant flights of Turkey Vultures.
back
to index |
Naturalist’s Calendar
by Lisa Millbank
As the verdant richness of spring fades into the tranquil summer,
the pace of natural events slows. The flowers of spring ripen their
seeds, grasses dry, and the birds quiet after raising their families.
There’s no better time to visit the cool shade of local woods,
take a canoe or raft trip, or pick a bucket of blackberries. Here’s
what to expect this summer:
Late June-July
A beautiful purple lily, Harvest Brodiaea (and the very similar
Elegant Brodiaea) blooms in grassy areas. Its leaves have already
withered away. The large, brown Common Wood-Nymph butterfly flits
through dry grass. Eyespots on its wings deter predators, and its
dull color lets it blend into bark or dry grass when it lands. Willamette
Valley Gumweed blooms in fields and on roadsides. Under the yellow
ray flowers, the green bracts are coated with sticky resin.
August
Himalayan and Evergreen Blackberries are abundant, free, and delicious.
Just make sure to pick your berries where they haven’t been
sprayed. A fine edible mushroom, the Meadow Mushroom, may pop up
in irrigated lawns. This cousin of the cultivated button mushroom
is superb, but as with any wild edible, be certain of your identification
before sampling. In the last days of August, Swainson’s Thrushes
begin their night migration. On starry nights, listen for their
soft weep! calls as they fly south together in loose groups.
September
In mid-September the breeding season for Roosevelt Elk begins. At
William L. Finley National Wildlife Refuge, watch half-ton bulls
sparring and bugling to win the favor of the cow herds. American
Wigeons are returning from their northern breeding grounds to winter
in the valley. The acorns ripen and fall from Oregon White Oaks
in time for jays and squirrels to cache food for winter. back
to index
|
back
to index
Neighborhood
Naturalist • 2007 Spring: V5 #1
Weedy Salad
Greens and Wild Opium
by Don Boucher
Like many nature lovers, I cherish native plants and I have set
out to learn the native plants of my region. I’ve had to
familiarize myself with common weeds in order to distinguish them
from the natives. I’ve discovered that weeds are sometimes
delightful wildflowers. For me, picking quantities of native wildflowers
may not only be unethical but also unnecessary. I’ve dazzled
friends and family with glorious bouquets of the prettiest weedy
wildflowers. Since introduced weeds are abundant, they are also
readily available for collection and use as food, medicine or
other purposes. Isn’t it a good idea to know what not to
pick? Learn your local weeds and enjoy their many benefits.
Garden lettuce and some other salad greens are descendents of
common weeds. These are related to Dandelions and with similar
flowers and seeds with downy umbrellas. Lettuces and Dandelions
are in the larger family of plants, Asteraceae, which is often
called the Sunflower or Aster family. In our area there are dozens
of plants species in this family. Most have edible or medical
properties. Only a few species are toxic but not very dangerous
in small quantities. The most common of these toxic Asteraceae
plants are Tansy Ragwort (Senecio jacobaea) and Common Groundsel
(Senecio vulgaris). Always identify with certainty any plant before
consumption. Another precaution is to make sure that your edible
plant hasn’t been subject to dangerous pollution either
in the soil or on the surface of the plant.
Garden lettuce and some common wild varieties are in the Lactuca
genus. These wild lettuces are nutritious and edible but, unlike
their garden relations, all are bitter to some degree. To me they
resemble Dandelions in flavor. Readers Holly and Bert Davis publish
a newsletter called Dwelling Portably, where they feature one
of their favorite wild relatives of lettuce, Gosmore (Hypochoeris
radicata). This weedy plant is also known as False Dandelion and
Holly and Bert find, under some conditions, it can taste less
bitter than Dandelion. Gosmore, Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)
and wild lettuce species are least bitter as tender sprouting
leaves during early spring. I find they are best used sparsely
in a salad with milder greens. Young plants can be difficult to
identify, and field guides aren’t much help since they typically
illustrate mature plants. Observe young plants in early spring
and take note of what they develop into later in the season. Not
until the following spring will you be able to apply what you’ve
learned.
Prickly Lettuce
Lactuca serriola
Plants 18in to 6ft tall. Undersides of leaves prickly, especially
the central vein. Sparse prickles on stem. Lower leaves clasp
around stem. Flower heads pale yellow. Brownish, parachute-like
seeds. The plant is sometimes called “Compass Plant”
because the leaves tend to point north and south. Milky sap. Open
waste places and roadsides.
Garden lettuce and wild varieties in the Lactuca genus contain
the compounds lactucopicrin and lactucin, which resemble opium
medicinally. Although not potent, the milky sap from mature plants
can be collected, dried and used as a mild sedative and cough
suppressant. Species have varying potency with garden lettuce
being the weakest. In Europe, Lactuca species have been historically
regarded as Wild Opium.
The two common species of wild lettuce in the Willamette Valley
are Wall Lettuce (Lactuca muralis) and Prickly Lettuce (L. serriola).
Willow Lettuce (L. saligna) is less common. All three are introduced,
annual plants, which disperse seeds and die within one growing
season. Tall Blue Lettuce (L. biennis) is a native plant and a
biennial, which means it makes seeds and dies after the second
growing season. Tall Blue Lettuce is rare or largely extirpated
from the Willamette Valley. All varieties of garden lettuce are
derived from one species, L. sativa.
Wall Lettuce
Lactuca muralis
Plants 12 – 30in tall. Large lower leaves few and clasping
on stem. Upper leaves tiny. Flower heads yellow with five ray
flowers. Seeds have a short beak with many white bristles. Milky
sap. Prefers shady, moist areas. ó
Suggested Field Guides
Northwest Weeds: The Ugly and Beautiful Villains of Fields, Gardens,
and Roadsides. By Ronald J. Taylor. 1990 Mountain Press Publishing
Company
Wild Edible Plants of the Western United States. By Donald R.
Kirk and Janice Kirk. 1970 Naturegraph Publishers
Guide to Wild Foods and Useful Plants. By Christopher Nyerges.
1999 Chicago Review Press, Inc.
back
to index |
A Lily By Any Other
Name...
Lilies To Look For This Spring
by Lisa Millbank
Spring brings an array of beautiful lilies to our forests and
fields. For most of the year lilies lie dormant under the soil,
storing carbohydrates in a corm, bulb or rhizome. When it is time
for a forest lily to emerge from its long slumber, a shoot emerges
at a remarkable pace, hurrying to catch the light and flower while
the trees’ leaves are still tight buds.
Traditionally the family Liliaceae was defined as monocotyledonous
plants, generally with parallel veins, linear leaves, and flower
parts in threes. Many common edible and ornamental plants, such
as asparagus, garlic, onion, tulip, crocus, and daffodil were
placed in this family.
Now botanists debate the proper classification of many lilies
in light of recent genetic studies. Many of our native species
featured here are considered for reclassification into different
families defined more precisely by their genetic relationships,
rather than placed into the catch-all Liliaceae. But regardless
of the family into which they may eventually fall, each is an
ephemeral gift of springtime. Enjoy each of these exquisite plants
during their brief appearance, before they once again retreat
to their underground repose.
Western Trillium has a single white flower borne on a peduncle,
or flower stalk, above its rosette of three plain green leaves.
Sessile Trillium’s flower sits at the junction of its leaves,
which are usually mottled. From Polk County northward is a possible
third species of trillium, but it may just be a form of Sessile
Trillium. They begin blooming in mid-March. Ants disperse the
seeds of these plants.
back
to index
Fawn Lily
Erythronium oregonum
This plant blooms in profusion in Avery Park in Corvallis. Mottled
leaves frame a stalk of up to five starry cream-colored flowers.
Each has a yellow center. In late March they begin to flower.
Camas
Camas bulbs were a staple food for the Kalapuya people, when the
flowers colored entire prairies blue. Today it is much less common,
but still easy to find and admire. Small Camas has an asymmetrical
flower with the lower petal-like structure (“tepal”)
somewhat apart from the other five. Great Camas has perfect symmetry
and its tepals twist together when the flower is beginning to
form seeds. Look for camas in mid-April.
Fairy Lanterns and Fairy Bells
These are almost shrublike plants that bear hanging flowers beneath
the leaves. Hooker’s Fairy Bells show the stamens clearly.
Smith’s Fairy Lanterns have concealed stamens. Both develop
orange fruit in the summer. They bloom in forests in mid-April.
False Solomon’s-Seals and Wild Lily-of-the-Valley
In rich forest soils you will find this genus. Star False Solomon’s-Seal
is small but elegant with no more than a dozen small flowers.
Large False Solomon’s-Seal produces fragrant plumes of flowers.
Wild Lily-of-the-Valley creeps along the forest floor, with heart-shaped
leaves and spikes of unusual, 4-part flowers. The false Solomon’s-seals
bloom in late April; the Wild Lily-of-the-Valley takes a few more
weeks.
Tolmie’s Cat’s-Ear
Calochortus tolmiei
These charming, fuzzy flowers dot open woods and fields in early
May. They are also known as mariposa lilies. ó
Columbia Lily
Lilium columbianum
A fabulous speckled orange “tiger lily”, this stately
plant has large whorls of leaves, topped by numerous flowers.
Avery Park is a great place to see them in early June, but later
in summer they are abundant on Marys Peak. back
to index |
Naturalist’s Calendar
by Lisa Millbank
The gradual changing of the seasons has great significance for all
living things in our temperate climate. Each organism responds to
day length, moisture, and temperature to optimize its survival and
reproduction. To better understand the seasonal events in the lives
of our neighboring critters, plants, and fungi, I started recording
significant observations in a calendar. To date there are over 350
entries in the calendar, with many more to come. Here is a sample
of what to expect this spring.
Late March
Look and listen for Ospreys returning from their winter home on
the Pacific coast of Mexico. Males will be calling loudly in their
display flights. Great Blue Herons nest in communal rookeries; a
good one to watch is at the south end of Willamette Park in Corvallis.
Look in the tall Black Cottonwoods on the east riverbank before
the emerging leaves hide the nests. Bigleaf Maple’s edible
hanging clusters of blossoms appear.
Early April
One of the first native butterflies to emerge from its overwintering
chrysalis is the charming Sara Orangetip. Although Rufous Hummingbirds
have whirred their teeny little wings all the way from Mexico, the
males are soon feeling spunky enough for their daring courtship
flights. In lower-elevation mixed woodlands, listen for Ruffed Grouse
drumming; the sound reminds me of a two-stroke engine starting up.
Mid-April
Our two beautiful camas species (Camassia quamash and C. leichtlinii)
are blooming now. From southern South America come the Cliff Swallows,
who build their mud nests under eaves and bridges around towns and
swoop for insects with other swallows. Tall Larkspur grows vivid
blue flower stalks up to four feet high in the moist, rich soil
of wooded streamsides.
Late April
Purple Tough-leaf Iris abounds on hillsides and in open woods. From
central Mexican forests come Western Tanagers, with a three-syllable
prit-i-kit call and a raspy robin-like song, and Black-headed Grosbeaks,
with a sharp pik call and a clear, elaborate robin-like song.
Early May
Black Cottonwood sheds its cottony seeds in delightful blizzards
on breezy days. Go to any sizable marsh to hear the peculiar “pumping”
song of male American Bitterns. Enchanting us with an ethereal,
spiraling song is the Swainson’s Thrush, a traveler from southwestern
Central America.
Mid-May
Spectacular with its bold black-and-yellow wings,
Western Tiger Swallowtails visit flowers. Turquoise male Lazuli
Buntings sing while rich brown females incubate eggs. They’ve
flown from western Mexico, and a reliable site to see them is Marys
River Natural Park in Corvallis. Our rare endemic Kincaid’s
Lupine blooms in scattered locations and is being reintroduced into
more areas every year.
Late May
Wood Ducks lead flotillas of tiny fuzzy ducklings on quiet ponds
and backwaters. The lovely Lorquin’s Admiral butterfly becomes
abundant in some areas; try E.E. Wilson Wildlife Area. The medicinal
herb Yarrow blooms in grassy areas.
Early June
Our striking orange Columbia Lily blooms now, dusting bright orange
pollen on bees and flower sniffers alike. Human and avian berry
lovers relish tasty Wild Strawberries. On open grassy slopes and
fields, Death Camas produces showy white plumes of flowers.
Mid-June
Thimbleberry ripens and packs a lot of raspberry flavor into a soft
cuplike fruit. The European forest plant, Wall Lettuce, blooms and
rel | |