Necedah NWR Boghaunter Trail--A Meadow and the Meadow Hawk

Meadows and wetlands make a wonderful combination. There is something to see and enjoy everywhere you look. We were actually getting good views of Bald eagles, five of them (as if that's not special enough!), when I spotted this Northern Harrier gliding low over the marshy meadow. While she appears to be over water in the sketch, she was actually at the edge of a grassy meadow, focusing on prey. In the next instant, she stopped in mid-flight and hovered, one of the many aerial feats that make these hawks so much fun to watch.

I give Northern Harriers credit for pulling me deeper into bird watching and prompting the purchase of my first pair of binoculars more than ten years ago. Several Northern Harriers wintered over in the fields where I lived, giving me daily views of their incredible aerial hunts. In this instance, at Necedah NWR, there were two Northern Harriers in view while we watched.

Below, along the trail, you see the same yellow aster shown in my previous post, this one in a different stage of maturity.

Lacy asters and other flowers dotted the meadow...

mixed in with a variety of milkweed plants displaying their pods.

I will venture a guess that above is the Common Milkweed, and below, the orange Butterfly Weed. Though this is risky at best, since Necedah is home to other milkweed varieties, including the Wooly Milkweed. Read more about the rare meadow flowers found on this trail in Geoffrey Tarbox's Sept 23rd post in Operation Migration's field journal. (Scroll down and watch for the date and this title, "Watching the Canfield Site/Return of the Plant Man".) Next post: Necedah's Oak savannahs and Red-headed Woodpeckers (possibly interrupted by some surprising and fun yard birds back in Tennessee).

Linked to Bird Photography Weekly #57 at Birdfreak.com to celebrate the conservation of our world's birds

Necedah NWR--Boghaunter Trail and Meadow

Meadows are magical this time of year, even more so for their bounty, a time when blossoms have yielded their fruit and the stage is set for a delightful display of color and texture. Laced with late blooming flowers, pregnant pods spilling their seeds and a parade of foliage gradually easing into the reds and golds of autumn, fall meadows are filled with endless opportunity for discovery. And as I walked through this one in Necedah National Wildlife Refuge, Wisconsin, I was reminded again of how little I know and how much there is to enjoy in a simple meadow walk.
And despite having perused a Wisconsin Wildflower guide and several other field guides, I can tell you no names, only give you a titillating look at what's out there to enjoy.
The area habitat includes oak savannas, wetlands and shrubby meadows full of goldenrod, asters, lupine and milkweed. At a different time of year, the endangered Karner blue butterfly can be found here along with blooming lupine. The trail is named for Boghaunter dragonflies. But the one dragonfly that I glimpsed, and I mean glimpsed, revealed a copper abdomen and little else. You can get a sense of this as you try to sort out the dragonfly shape in the image above. He/she disappeared into the copper foliage after landing and in the next instant was gone. The brilliant late stand of yellow asters above, which may be a variety of goldenrod, attracted an enormous community of nectaring bees, wasps and moths (and other insect varieties), all of which were unknown to me, but intriguing, nonetheless. Below you will find close-ups of two moth varieties and a lovely orange-banded bumble bee.
Next--Part 2 of Boghaunter Trail

Whooping Crane Migration Training at Necedah NWR

I've just returned from what always feels like a whirlwind trip to Necedah National Wildlife Refuge in Wisconsin. While there, I had the pleasure of seeing our juvenile Whooping crane Class of 2009 training for migration behind their ultralight parents--Operation Migration's (OM) pilots and planes--and participating in Necedah's Cranefest, as well as, reuniting with Operation Migration crew members, volunteers and fellow Directors.

Saturday morning (Sept 19th) was chilly and cloudy, but overall the weather was wonderful for both training and the Necedah Whooping crane festival that followed. Above you see Richard Van Heuvelen testing the wind and visibility prior to the morning training. And below, (left to right) Heather Ray of Operation Migration and several of OM's volunteers, Dale Richter, Director; Bob Rudd, Director; and Nan Rudd, a volunteer in many capacities, including the layout and design of OM's InFormation magazine. And the moment we were all waiting for?--ultralight migration training and a wonderful look at the fledged juveniles who will soon be making their way south, learning the migration route they will use in future migrations.Low light and thick overcast in the early morning didn't make for award winning images but the excitement of seeing juvenile Whooping cranes , who will soon add their numbers--21 in the class of 09--to the eastern population of migrating Whooping cranes, always brings both spine tingles and smiles of awe.
Against all odds, Whooping cranes have been returned to the eastern flyway and this year will mark the ninth ultralight-led migration, with an estimated departure date of October 10th. Having numbered only 15 in 1941, Whooping cranes have taught us many lessons about the fragile nature of species ecology and survival. That we continue to enjoy Whooping cranes in our world today offers a powerful symbol of hope and tenacity.

Let's hope that we, their human guardians, continue to examine these lessons--both the historical ones and those currently unfolding--and in doing so, become wiser in our efforts to protect and preserve the richness of our natural world.

Next: Necedah NWR's meadow! (then back to my visit to Ijam's meadow in TN!)

Of Monarchs and Milkweed

In this second post about my visit to the meadow at Ijams Nature Center, I'm celebrating the Monarch I encountered at the end of my journey. Her timing was delightful. I watched for a while, as she sipped nectar, landed on milkweed leaves, sipped more nectar, then settled again on a milkweed leaf, before I finally experienced the "wow" of realizing she was busy laying eggs. What a privileged moment!
Later that night, I opened the book I've been reading, No Way Home: The Decline of the World's Great Animal Migrations, by David S. Wilcove, and as if by magic, I found myself reading about the discovery of Monarch multi-generational migration. What an amazing story of natural wonder, both the perseverance of devoted naturalists and the story of the Monarchs themselves.
As you may know, Monarch caterpillars only eat the poisonous milkweed plant in eastern North America but neither the butterfly nor its other life stages can survive winters in this region. So they migrate, some wintering along the coast of California, but most, millions of them in fact, funnel into an area of old-growth forests in the mountains of Mexico. Amazingly, it isn't warm there either. But because they store fat in their bodies and winter in a semi-stuporous state protected by the forest canopy, they survive, stirring now and then when the temperature is warm enough to drink water and rehydrate. Milkweed with seed pods

When the time is right, they begin their journey north again, timed with the emergence of milkweed, mating and laying eggs as they go. Caterpillars are hatched, metamorphosis begins and new generations of butterflies emerge. And somewhere in this cycle as the summer comes to an end, a generation reverses directions once again, turning south toward their wintering grounds, continuing their reproductive cycle as they journey. And this is only a tiny glimpse into the fascinating mysteries of these butterflies' lives.

Like all things on this earth and in nature, habitat is changing due to both natural and man-made influences. Species of North American milkweed are declining due to agricultural practices and Mexico's mountain forests, though protected, are being fragmented by logging which in turn is making Monarch's more vulnerable to the harshness of winter.

As I read this story in David Wilcove's style, I felt even more gratitude for the moment I shared with this Monarch and for places in Tennessee like Ijams Nature Center and Seven Islands Wildlife Refuge, where native plants grow full cycle and wildlife are supported in unfragmented habitat.

The more we learn about and understand the nature around us, the better stewards we become. Take a walk and investigate. And while you're out there enjoying the meadow, whisper "thank you" to the milkweed!

Next: The Bounty and the Goldfinch

A Meadow Fairyland!

I had almost forgotten how much I love meadows.


Ironweed, asters, sunflowers and daisies. Chirping Goldfinch and cone flower heads partially picked away. Brilliantly colored insects, even the spider web that caught me by surprise--all together they equal meadow delight.

This was the nature of my recent visit to Ijams Nature Center in Knoxville, TN. Don't miss this late summer bounty. Visit a meadow near you. I'll tell you more about my visit soon.

Thank you, Seabrooke Leckie at the Marvelous in Nature, for ID'ing this colorful moth as an Ailanthus Webworm Moth, one of the many perks to belonging to the Nature Blog Network!

A Day-Making Family of Cardinals!

Yesterday, after the morning drizzle stopped, we had a very pleasant soft-light day of clouds in Knoxville (east Tennessee). I sat outside for a while and read, enjoying the moderate air, camera handy, of course.
I also wanted to see how the molting Northern cardinal family looked, Mom with her heavily molting head, and Dad, last seen with a disarray of crest feathers and gray down showing here and there.
Above you see the male on August 11th, with many of his crest feathers already missing. And below you can see how he appeared yesterday, on August 28th. In a little over two weeks he had molted all his crest feathers, many head and facial feathers and had produced feather sheaths to protect newly growing feathers. The tiny feathers poking up on his crown in the image below are the brand new ones growing out beyond the sheath. And what looks like gray whiskers are the sheaths for his new black facial feathers.

It's the 'tween time for cardinals and many other birds, the molting season, a time when juveniles are still following parents around begging, but the hectic pace of nesting and fledging season is over. Young can now fly and are learning to forage for themselves.

Molting female cardinal with juvenile perched below her.

It's also a time when molting birds need a bounty of food to help nourish them through the energy-demanding task of producing new feathers. And for year-around residents in Tennessee, these new feathers include a thicker layer of down, making ready for the winter months.

Molting, or the shedding and replacing of worn feathers with new ones, occurs in all birds but at different times, with different frequency and rates, all of which perfectly matches the bird's habits, seasonal cycles, available food sources and migration patterns. And despite the look of disarray, molting occurs in an orderly and gradual fashion with most birds retaining their ability to fly while molting. Waterfowl are an exception, rendered temporarily flightless with a complete postbreeding molt due to body aerodynamics.

Northern Cardinal juvenile.

Besides having fun watching this cardinal family interact, I noticed the juveniles were molting, too. So I checked my new book, National Geographic Birding Essentials by Jonathan Alderfer and Jon L. Dunn that I purchased through Wild Birds Unlimited and delved into it a little more.

There is a great deal of variation among species as to how long a juvenile keeps its first plumage.

Molting may occur for some juveniles before leaving the nest! In other species, such as the Bald Eagle, a series of partial molts over a five year period changes the plumage appearance several times before the young eagle reaches breeding age and acquires the distinctive white head and tail of the mature adult.

For these two juvenile cardinals trying to share a perch, the wait will not be so long. In only a few months they will have acquired the distinctive orange beak and brighter adult plumage that we all enjoy in our backyard cardinals.

Linked to Bird Photography Weekly #53 at Birdfreak.com to celebrate the conservation of our world's birds and Bird Photography Weekly's second anniversary.

Bird Banding and Matters of the Heart

I can't conclude my posts about bird banding without showing you one more glimpse of what I found so captivating about this activity. First and foremost, it's about helping our birds, about gathering information that will help us understand changes and give us a sound basis for making conservation decisions. Secondly, it's about people who love birds. About bird lovers who are willing to dedicate their time and energy as volunteers and in this case, spend hours in the field collecting data while at the same time, remaining mindful of the care and protection of the birds that provide that data.

And that brings me to the third aspect, an aspect that is purely a matter of the heart, one that feeds that love and energizes all that hard work. It's those intimate moments of stillness with a bird, absorbing its beauty and attitude.

Meet a juvenile White-eyed vireo, above and below.

"What white eyes?" you might ask. Well, the ones shining through those young brown ones. The same ones that are asking with attitude, "just what the heck is this interruption in my day about?"

And with her mouth open, you can also see this juvenile's yellow gape and a bit of her fiesty vireo attitude. Attitude is as much a part of bird recognition as the color and shape we find in our field guides, though in smaller birds we see it more seldom. For me its the fun part, the purely captivating part that settles into my heart when I meet a bird.

White-eyed vireos were new for me this year. And this juvenile, in particular, was alert, checked everybody out and had a comment or two. When she happily flew away to resume her bird life, she left an impression that I will forever connect to White-eyed vireos.

Now meet an Ovenbird, a bird that radiates a gentle sweetness and one we don't often expect to find in a valley meadow.

Observant and calm while receiving his/her band (the sexes look the same), she's a secretive warbler that builds an oven-shaped nest on the forest floor. A striking bird with olive plumage set off by an eye-ring, white breast streaked with brown and two dark head stripes divided by a splash of orange, one can see how this plumage also serves to protect, blending into the forest environment.

Add to this, pink legs and feet, and you have the details that make up the unique and subtle beauty of Ovenbirds.

As one who loves, sketches and paints birds, this was, of course, my favorite aspect of bird banding, the upclose details, the amazing beauty and array of colors in the plumage, the perfect way shape, color and attitude come together to make each bird uniquely suited for its habitat and lifestyle. When you really stop to consider all this variety and perfection, it is breath taking
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I did try my hand at recording data and watched intently while birds were extracted from the net, but there is a considerable learning curve here and I've barely begun the climb. Still, the opportunity for learning even more and having intimate interaction with birds, combined with the vital contribution this activity makes to their continued health and survival, makes for a compelling combination. And as I learned many years ago with Golden eagles and Whooping cranes, for me, birds are a matter of the heart. And when your heart takes the lead, anything can happen
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To see my entire series on bird banding, click here. Scroll to the bottom to find the first post.
Linked to Bird Photography Weekly #50, at Birdfreak.com, to raise awareness of the conservation of our world's birds.

Posture is Everything!

I just paid a visit to Operation Migration's website to see how training went this morning. What I discovered was a wonderful video clip, something you will want to see, a pair of wild Whooping cranes threat posturing.
When you view the video below, you will see two adult Whooping cranes walking with their heads down showing their bald, bright red skin patch. Cranes can engorge this skin patch with blood, making it larger and redder. When they hold their heads down, the skin patch is prominent and represents a warning to intruders that an attack could follow.

Chris Gullikson, one of Operation Migration's costume-clad pilots and the videographer, is also posturing by holding the red head of his Whooping crane hand puppet high in the same position. Size matters in the Whooping crane world and Chris, whose human shape is covered with a white costume, represents a larger threat in crane posture language.

As you view the video below, don't miss the stomping that occurs early while the bird to the right is still in the shadows. He repeats it later. You can hear it as well. Stomping is an additional threat behavior. Also, remember that Whooping cranes are five feet tall with a wing-span of seven feet!

The reason for the encounter? Chris is at Necedah National Wildlife Refuge and is discouraging the pair from interfering with the ultralight migration training by trying to lure the juveniles away. You can see Chris' shadow as you view the video. At the end of the clip, the pair flies over to another wild crane who has trespassed into their territory. After they chase him off, they sound the unison call, trumpeting their successful defense of territory. The unison call also serves to strengthen the pair bond.

Great clip, Chris and Operation Migration! Threat posturing, a rare glimpse into the lifestyle and personality of Whooping cranes.

Check out migration training as it progresses at Operation Migration's field journal or by watching the cranecam as training is underway. And don't forget to Give A Whoop!

Linked to Bird Photography Weekly #49 at Birdfreak.com to promote the conservation of our world's birds.