Newsletter Archives
text only (for illustrations, order back issues)
published in the Willamette Valley, Oregon
in reverse order—latest on top

2008 Fall: v6 #3 • WrentitTownsend's ChipmunkHutton's Vireo / Ruby-crowned Kinglet

2008 Summer: V6 #2 • Spotted TowheeCommon Whitetail (dragonfly)Bigleaf Maple

2008 Spring: V6 #1 • Vernal PoolsWillamette Valley Swallows

2007-08 Winter: V5 #4 • RaccoonsIce Age Flood

2007 Fall: V5 #3 • KilldeerRoosevelt Elk

2007 Summer: V5 #2 • Western Pond TurtleTurkey VultureNaturalist Calendar

2007 Spring: V5 #1 • Wild LettuceNaturalist CalendarLilies

2006-07 Winter: V4 #4 • Western Scrub-JayMoles

2006 Autumn: V4 #3• RabbitsThe Age of Soil Bugs, PseudoscorpionAcorn Woodpeckers

2006 Summer: V4 #2 • OspreyStargazing This SummerTarweed and Gumweed

2006 Spring: V4 #1• Black CottonwoodThe Age of Soil Bugs, SpringtailsGlow WormsLe Printemps—A Spring Soliloquy

2005-6 Winter : V3 #4• MistletoeThoughts on RabbitsStarlings

2005 Fall: V3 #3 • Falll mushroomsGray Diggers (California Ground Squirrels)

2005 Summer: V3 #2 • Blackberries: Himalayan (Armenian), Evergreen & Trailing DewberryNorthwest Fence Lizard

2005 Spring: V3 #1 • Wild Plant gathering and ethicsWild Mustard as foodPacific Chorus Frog

2004-05 Winter: V2 #4 • Rough-skinned NewtSalamanders of the Willamette ValleyWinter Poetry by Beth Russell

2004 Autumn: V2 #3 • Cellar Spiders • Daddy LonglegsStewart Lake at HP by Joan Newhouse Food chart for feeder birds  

2004 Summer: V2 #2 • Red-spotted Garter SnakeGopher Snake (Bull Snake) Woolly BearsCinnabar Moth and Tansy Ragwort

2004 Spring: V2 #1 • BobcatAnimal track comparisonCloud typesCloud Poetry by Jorah ReinsteinSpring poetry by Beth Russell

2003-04 Winter: V1 #4 • Licorice FernSimpson Park in Albany Varied Thrush art by Lisa MillbankSquirrel nests  

2003 Autumn: V1 #3 • The mystery of oak gallsLocation of native oaks in CorvallisLandscape poetry by Beth RussellMigratory arrivals for autumn: songbirds

2003 Summer: V1 #2 • Big Brown BatsHow birds reveal the presence of other wildlifeLadybug poetry by Charles Goodrich Goldfinches and thistleSummer Doldrums • E.E. Wilson Wildlife Area

2003 Spring: V1 #1 • Stinging NettlesAccipiters: aerial tigersBlackbirds, starlings and crows

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2008 Fall: V6 #3

Wrentit

by Lisa Millbank
During the fall, the great southbound bird migration is a spectacle you can’t miss – skeins of Cackling Geese patterning the sky, Golden-crowned Sparrows reappearing in our gardens, and our tropical summer visitors departing for warmer climes.
Although I love to see all the new arrivals, I have a special affinity for the resident birds who stay with us year-round. Like them, I’m a stay-at-home kind of person, not a world traveler like some of the champion migrants that pass by every fall. I like to get to know nearby birds individually, like the Western Scrub-Jays in our neighborhood, and the Bewick’s Wren across the street from us. But these birds, while generally staying within a territory that they defend, cannot compare to the quintessential homebody of them all: the Wrentit.
Wrentits skulk, mouselike, in their world of brush and brambles. They are plain little grayish birds who flit in the shadows, pausing to snap up a bug, or nibble a blackberry. They’re neither wrens nor tits (birds like chickadees). For some time they were thought to be in the babbler family; recently they have been placed with the Old World warblers. They’re totally unique among North American birds.
Living only in California and western Oregon, they inhabit chaparral and brush, including thick undergrowth in open forests and shrubby clearcuts. Early ornithologists in Oregon reported few Wrentits, with the exception of the coast and the Rogue Valley. Partly due to human alteration of the landscape, Wrentits have been able to greatly expand their range in the last half-century or so. It’s remarkable for such a sedentary bird to spread so quickly.
It takes a lot of courage for a Wrentit to cross any open area, and you will never see one hopping around in the middle of a field. Their short wings probably make them weak fliers, but they have no real need for long-distance flight. They happily inhabit the south banks of the Columbia River, but crossing that broad river is just too much adventure for the retiring Wrentit. For this reason, no Wrentits have ever been seen in Washington. They see no reason to leave the comfort of their brambles and strike off into the unknown.
To a Wrentit, the little world it inhabits (more often than not, a big tangle of blackberries) satisfies all of its needs. There is protection from the elements and predators. Food, such as insects and berries, are always available. It’s easy to conceal a nest made from the grass and spider silk they find nearby. And morning dew is usually enough to drink. Imagine the complex tangle inside a heaping mound of old blackberry vines. The Wrentit probably knows every thorn on every cane.
A Wrentit feels comfortable with its familiar surroundings, and that extends to its family life as well. Pairing for life, Wrentits are in constant communication with their partners. A patient observer of Wrentits wrote that they roost tightly pressed against one another on a branch, plumage fluffed together, so that the pair forms a ball of feathers. The birds preen one another’s feathers affectionately before sleeping and upon waking. They snuggle together nightly, except when one partner is brooding their eggs. During daylight hours, they talk in soft voices to maintain contact at all times. They use a rattle or purr and a number of other quiet sounds when calling to their partners.

Wrentit habitat
A pair of Wrentits lives in these Himalayan Blackberry bushes. Western Poison-Oak grows nearby and Common Hawthorn trees are bearing prolific crops. Wrentits always stay close to a dense thicket.


Unlike most songbirds, Wrentits of both sexes sing. As with everything they do, they often sing as a team. The male’s song is an accelerating series of chirps ending with a trill, likened to a bouncing ball. The female sings a steady series of chirps. They often sing at the same time, each chiming in to defend their territory.
Although they’re reluctant to leave their domain of brush and brambles, Wrentits really aren’t shy. They have no fear of humans as long as we move calmly. To a Wrentit, we are no more threat than a deer who might browse the shrubs they inhabit. But if you can imitate their songs or calls, the pair will be out in a flash to investigate the intruder they hear in their territory. Even a poor imitation will usually get them curious enough to come out and investigate, with tails cocked in the style of wrens. In a show of solidarity, they will sing together to assert their ownership of their thicket, ensuring it is safe from interloping Wrentits. When they’re confident that the stranger is gone, they will talk to one another with their soft rattle call. Soon they will quiet and disappear into the depths of the brambles once more.
Within the shrubs and tangles, the Wrentit searches for food. They like fruits such as elderberries and blackberries. They mainly eat all kinds of tiny invertebrates, such as ants, beetles, flies, spiders, caterpillars. In the winter, they rely on plants like snowberries, which retain their fruits for a long time. Another critical food source are the fruits of Western Poison-Oak. They search for insect eggs and pupae during the coldest times, when insects are otherwise inactive. Spring’s arrival must be welcomed by the Wrentits, when the explosion of insect life lets them fill their bellies and feed their young.
The male sings more than usual in springtime, when the Wrentits are ready to breed. Together, the male and female construct a neat cup inside the bushes, using strips of bark, grass, and spider silk to bind it together. The female lays 3-4 greenish-blue eggs. After 15-16 days of incubation by both parents, the eggs are ready to hatch. The babies remain in the nest for a further 15-16 days, keeping their parents busy catching as many insects as they can to feed their growing brood. Once they have fledged, the parents still feed the young Wrentits for another month as the young birds learn to find food.
After becoming independent, the young Wrentit undertakes a once-in-a-lifetime, heroic journey to find and claim a territory of its own, and hopefully, a life partner too. But any spirit of adventure that a young Wrentit may have usually wears out about a quarter-mile or less from where it hatched! Most juvenile Wrentits establish a territory no more than 400 yards from their parents’ territory. However, Don and I have heard an occasional young Wrentit wanderer singing in residential neighborhoods, where they may be at least one mile from their parents’ territory. In their second year, most Wrentits have found a partner and will raise a family.
Fall is a good time to see Wrentits. Not only do they sing year-round, they are easier to spot when there are fewer leaves on the shrubs. It’s tempting, when cold rain beats down for days, to dream of escaping to the tropics like our tanagers and swallows do. But there is something to be said for a quiet and simple life, snuggling with somebody, and being satisfied with where you are. Just like the Wrentits.

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Townsend’s Chipmunk
by Don Boucher
Imagine camping deep within a Douglas-fir forest. It’s the kind of forest with mossy logs on the ground, spindly Vine Maples and clusters of Sword Fern. You’re sitting near the campfire after breakfast and you hear the rustling of a plastic bag behind you. You carefully turn to get a look. As soon as your eyes can fix on a bag of bagels, there’s a little striped rascal scampering away with its tail raised. You decide to go secure the bagels from further theft and the chipmunk appears from behind the base of a tree, watching you. You calmly walk over to the bag of peanuts you’ve been munching and toss one over toward your little companion. The startled chipmunk disappears behind the tree but emerges on the other side a moment later. It advances toward the peanut with short bursts. It picks up your offering with its forepaws and holds it up to its mouth, pauses briefly, and rotates it once inside its mouth before it starts nibbling. As you watch with delight, you notice the sides of its chest and belly pulsing. It breathes so quickly with its fast metabolism. The chipmunk stuffs the food into its cheek pouch and dashes away.
Fifteen minutes goes by and the process is repeated with several peanuts. Soon, another chipmunk appears. This one is shy and you must throw the food bits further from the campfire for it to take anything. The entertainment continues until you’ve noticed the peanuts are all but gone and an hour has gone by. You seem to have forgotten about getting an early start for the day-hike you planned to a waterfall. The waterfall will always be there, but for now the chipmunks are too precious and fun to watch.
Chipmunks are squirrels in the genus Tamias, an apt Greek word that means “storer.” Those chipmunks at the campground were hauling away those peanuts to stash them for the future. They certainly didn’t eat them on the spot because that bag of peanuts weighs as much as a few chipmunks. The genus Tamias is represented by the Townsend’s Chipmunk (Tamias townsendii) throughout the Willamette Valley. This makes it easy for us, since chipmunk species can be very difficult to distinguish. In the south Willamette Valley and Cascade foothills, the Yellow Pine Chipmunk (Tamias amoenus) complicates identification. Besides the Townsend’s and Yellow Pine Chipmunks, three other chipmunks live elsewhere in Oregon (see range maps), although some field guides regard only three Oregon species by combining the Townsend’s Chipmunk with the Allen’s (Tamias senex) and Siskiyou Chipmunk (Tamias siskiyou). Another Oregon species is the Least Chipmunk (Tamias minimus).
Chipmunks of Western Oregon
The range of the Townsend’s Chipmunk is represented by red. The range of the Yellow Pine Chipmunk is shown here in blue, with violet showing where the Townsend’s and Yellow Pine ranges overlap. The Siskiyou Chipmunk’s range, shown as pale blue, entirely overlaps with that of the Yellow Pine Chipmunk’s.
Chipmunks exclusive to Central and Eastern Oregon
The Allen’s Chipmunk range is in yellow. The Least Chipmunk’s range is in pink. The red indicates where their ranges overlap.

The burrow system of a chipmunk consists of a sleeping chamber, a food cache chamber and two or more access holes. Near one of the access holes may be a midden pile—seed hulls and other rejected food scraps. The hole on the right was used for excavating and has been plugged.

How many stripes and where?
This young Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel (left), which is not a Willamette Valley resident, looks like a chipmunk without facial stripes. Chipmunks, like this Townsend’s Chipmunk (center), have five dark and four pale stripes on the body, whereas the Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel has four dark and two pale stripes. The Golden-mantled Ground Squirrel is not at all chipmunk. Instead, it is closely related to a non-striped Willamette Valley resident, the California Ground Squirrel (right).

Chipmunks share their living space with other squirrels. In the Willamette Valley, there are four categories of squirrels including chipmunks. In the ground squirrel category is the California Ground Squirrel. For the tree squirrel category, two native species are the Western Gray Squirrel and the Douglas’ Squirrel. Eastern Gray Squirrels and Fox Squirrels are tree squirrels that have been introduced into some urban areas, but we haven’t seen any in Albany or Corvallis. In the flying squirrel category, the Northern Flying Squirrel is the sole representative in the Willamette Valley.
A Townsend’s Chipmunk is happy to live in a wilderness area or a city park. It dwells in moist, shady habitats like deep in the conifer woods, shady maple forests, forested riverbanks and brushy spots near the forest. The Townsend’s Chipmunk is more often heard than seen. They make a sharp, bird-like, skit-skit-skit-skit, uttered in succession as a phrase. I wonder if this may be the inspiration to the Chinook Jargon name for chipmunk, skwisskwiss. Another common call of the Townsend’s Chipmunk is a hoot-like note which is repeated about twice a second and may go on for many minutes. From a distance it may sound like a small owl. This “barking” of the Townsend’s Chipmunk may be used as a distinguishing trait where its range overlaps with other chipmunk species.
Townsend’s Chipmunks are shy compared to other chipmunk species. You are more likely to get close encounters with chipmunks in the high Cascades or elsewhere in the western states. Townsend’s Chipmunks become bold under circumstances where they become habituated to humans. In campgrounds they become familiar with regular visitors, such as the imaginary scenario presented at the opening of this article. They also become familiar with people in yards with bird feeders. If there is suitable chipmunk habitat nearby, the chipmunks will relish any fallen bird seed.
Townsend’s Chipmunks eat nuts, seeds, fruit, insects, and fungi, and may occasionally take eggs or hatchlings from bird nests. I saw one along the Marys River eating Common Hawthorn berries. Of course, to a rodent with strong, sharp incisors, the seeds are the most nutritious part of the berry.
The mating season may start in February at low elevations and lasts through March. At this time, males play chasing games with the females, and the antics may get frenetic. Four to six young are born in May or June, but not seen outside the nest until late July or August. Chipmunks are not particularly territorial, but squabbles occur over the occasional contested food source.
Where the ground is covered with snow during winter, Townsend’s Chipmunks hibernate. They do not fatten up in fall like marmots or ground squirrels, so they depend on their food cache. Occasionally their slumber is interrupted with meals from their food cache chamber and may even be seen outside the burrow. In the mild climate of the Willamette Valley, Townsend’s Chipmunks may not hibernate at all. In this way they live like tree squirrels, which do not hibernate at all, but depend on food caches to survive winter.

Townsend’s Chipmunk tracks in mud
The typical bounding gait of a chipmunk. The track pattern registers with the hind feet in front with the forepaws landing side by side. The front track is about ¾” long by ½” wide and the rear is ½” long by ?” wide. The length between strides is from 3–20”, depending on speed. The trail width is 1½– 2½”. The whole group length is 1½–4”.
In early March, this Townsend’s Chipmunk was playing chasing games with several other chipmunks near the Marys River. The play team likely consisted of both rivals and potential mates. This one stopped just briefly enough to get its photo taken and then dashed into the dense underbrush.
Townsend’s Chipmunks have a tendency to run with their tails raised. They move around quickly and carefully in open areas, with short, erratic bursts. This helps them evade the potential advance of a predator. Their natural predators in the Willamette Valley are Long-tailed Weasels, Minks, and even Spotted Skunks. Great Horned Owls hunt occasionally during the day, and may capture chipmunks. House cats kill a surprising number. It’s possible for other predators (maybe foxes, Coyotes or Bobcats) to catch the occasional chipmunk, but since chipmunks are so quick and alert, such predators are likely to depend more on luck than skill.
Townsend’s Chipmunks are the largest of western chipmunks at about 3 ounces. The Eastern Chipmunk is the largest on the continent at 3½ ounces. Compare that to the Least Chipmunk at 1¼ ounces. The whole lot of them are tiny creatures and are light on their feet. Their tracks register best in fine mud or dust. The front feet register four toes and the rear register five, consistent with the tracks of most other rodents. Chipmunks tend to bound wherever they go and it is uncommon for them to walk.
There’s well known data on chipmunks that isn’t necessarily featured in the most noted studies. Top researchers in the field are as aware of this as any family on a camping vacation. Chipmunks have consistently proven to be “itsy-bitsy-teensy-cutesy” beyond any rational measure. Tamara Hartson, author of the field guide, Squirrels of the West (Lone Pine Publishing), states this point clearly: “…few creatures are as endearing as a dark-eyed chipmunk sitting quietly on its hind feet with its hands tucked close its chest.”
Next time you’re in the forest, listen for their calls. Maybe you’ll get a glimpse. I can empathize if you feel the urge to talk to it using endearing terms with your baby voice.

Chipmunk traits
Stripes Chipmunks are the only North American squirrels that have stripes on their faces. All chipmunk species have five dark and four pale stripes on the body. The body stripes on the Townsend’s Chipmunks are not as contrasted as in some species
Hibernation They do not depend on fat storage during hibernation. To get them through the winter, they eat cached food during brief wakeful periods.
Ground dwellers They make a burrow system in the soil or rock crevices. Sometimes a nest is made in a hollow tree limb on or near the ground. Although chipmunks climb in trees and shrubs, they lack the agility and special adaptations that tree squirrels use to leap between tree crowns and climb face down.
Cheek pouches A trait shared with other squirrels except tree squirrels. Cheek pouches are used to carry food to nests or cache sites.
Diurnal Like all other North American squirrels except the flying squirrels, chipmunks are active by day. The majority of rodent species have nocturnal tendencies.

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Hutton's Vireo & Ruby-crowned Kinglet

As autumn progresses, you may start seeing cute and tiny Ruby-crowned Kinglets flitting in leafless branches during their winter visit to the Willamette Valley. But take a closer look, and more importantly, listen carefully. A less common bird, the Hutton’s Vireo, is a year-round resident that resembles the Ruby-crowned Kinglet very closely. Strangely enough, they’re not closely related to one another.
A vireo’s feet and legs are deep blue-black, while the kinglet has yellow feet. A vireo’s bill is proportionally larger than a kinglet’s. A kinglet is smaller than a vireo and flutters its wings constantly, while a vireo hops and wing-flicks at a slightly more sedate pace. A kinglet is usually low in shrubs or on the ground, where a vireo is more likely to be found in the treetops — but that’s not a reliable identifier. A male kinglet has a red crown patch, but he may conceal it depending on his mood.
Once you’re familiar with their voices, they’re easy to distinguish. A vireo utters occasional nasal, whiny-sounding calls and sings a raspy zu-WEET...zu-WEET...zu-WEET... series. A kinglet often gives a rhythmic, dry di-dit call as it forages, and the male’s spring song is long, melodious and complex. After a few weeks of singing, the Ruby-crowned Kinglet migrates to its summer breeding range, leaving its Hutton’s Vireo twin until next fall.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

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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.

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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.
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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

 

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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

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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.
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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.
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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 releases its tiny parachutes. Our native Trailing Dewberry begins to ripen now, and rewards those who brave its thorny vines with a puckery zing of blackberry bliss. ó

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2006-07 Winter: V4 #4

Brilliant Blues
Western Scrub-Jay

Aphelocoma californica
by Lisa Millbank
Each morning after sunrise, a long, sturdy beak pokes down over the rain gutter above our apartment deck. A sparkling brown eye, graced with an arched white eyebrow, looks around inquisitively. Then the beak opens and emits an earsplitting shriek. It’s breakfast time for our Western Scrub-Jays, and they always make sure to let us know!
Maybe it’s that loud, raspy screaming of the neighborhood jays, or their bold assaults on bird feeders, but whatever the reason, many people aren’t fond of jays. Perhaps people develop an idea for what a bird should be, and jays don’t fit in. “Nice” birds are timid, sing melodiously, and daintily pick seeds from our feeders. In contrast, jays eat baby birds, shriek harshly, and scare the finches as they swoop to bird feeders. It’s true that jays do all these things, but I want to reveal to you their endearing, deeply perceptive, and even gentle character that may not be so obvious. Western Scrub-Jays are even the subjects of new research that is expanding our awareness of non-human forms of intelligence.
All jays, crows, ravens, magpies and nutcrackers belong to the same family, the Corvidae. They are long-lived and intelligent birds, full of character and successful worldwide. The mid-Willamette Valley is home to two resident jays: the Western Scrub-Jay and the crested, darker Steller’s Jay. Visiting flocks of Gray Jays occasionally descend from higher elevations to the forested foothills of the valley. Over much of the valley, especially in open areas with oaks, and in many neighborhoods, the Western Scrub-Jay is the most numerous.
Our three neighborhood jays are a mated pair (jays form a life partnership) and their friend, probably one of the pair’s offspring from a previous year. They don’t tolerate other jays in their territory, and certainly a hawk is most unwelcome. When a young Red-tailed Hawk perched across the street, they screamed at it incessantly, until the crows joined the uproar and drove it away. A raccoon sleeping in a tree is another favorite target of a jay yelling party. But while jays must sometimes engage in serious conflicts, most of the screaming and chasing we see is just their boisterous style of play. They chase one another with a flowing grace among branches, or swoop in to snatch an unguarded peanut before another jay gets it. And they like to call loudly to the other jays in their territories. Soon another jay will come over to see what is so exciting, and join in the lively screaming.
While Western Scrub-Jays use their loud voices to communicate over long distances, they have a few sounds that may seem uncharacteristically quiet. When our jays are picking up a peanut from our deck, or thinking about where to hide it, they make a little muttering rrk…rrk…rrk… sound, just to themselves. But the most unique and intimate sound is one that few humans are lucky enough to hear. It is the “whisper-song,” a complex, finch-like warbling song, but delivered as if in a whisper, and only audible from a few yards away. I have found no reference explaining the meaning of this delightful private song, but I’m happy leaving that secret to the jays.
The jay’s voices are hushed when other birds are singing in the springtime. Though they are normally playful, bold rascals, during their nesting season the Western Scrub-Jays fall unusually silent, skulking around in brushy thickets with hardly a sound. In the first week of March we have seen a pair of them pulling at twigs for nest material. The birds line their nest with fur or grass. The male feeds the female while she incubates their clutch.
When their 3-6 eggs hatch, the parents bring a variety of insects and other small animals for their nestlings. Jays are adept at watching and understanding the behavior of other birds, enabling them to seek out nests and prey on eggs or chicks. Some people feel disturbed by jays killing baby birds, but, like many other species, they must find high-protein food for their fast-growing young. They have the size and strength to kill vertebrates, and the intelligence to find well-hidden nests. Jays are not cruel animals, but they are resourceful and some become successful hunters.
Though jays do include animal foods in their diets, when their youngsters have fledged and are feeding themselves, the jays turn to their staples of fruits, nuts and seeds. Caching, or burying food items in the ground, is a strategy that enables jays to store food during times of plenty. When one of our neighborhood jays makes its peanut-collecting rounds, it carefully weighs the peanuts. With the biggest one selected, the jay takes it to a habitual caching site, and pounds the peanut into loose substrate, like wood chips or sod. The jay places a marker, such as a small rock or distinctive leaf, on the spot where it has hidden its treasure.
However, some food items that jays cache are more perishable than peanuts. Sometimes they bury insects they have caught or fruits. Recent research has shown that each Western Scrub-Jay keeps a mental inventory of hundreds of food caches, including the type of food, when it was stored, and the perishability of each item. Jays manage their caches by selectively digging up and eating the food that will soon spoil, while relying on less perishable foods for long-term storage. This ability to keep a what-when-where inventory, known as episodic memory, was presumed to be a trait exclusive to humans until a study of Western Scrub-Jays proved that assumption wrong.
The part of the jay’s brain that stores such information is the hippocampus. This structure is associated with memory formation and spatial orientation in all birds (and ourselves), and it is extremely well-developed in the Western Scrub-Jay. In fact, a study published in the journal Brain, Behavior and Evolution showed that of all the jays, nutcrackers and magpies in the study, Western Scrub-Jays were at the top of the charts when hippocampal volume was correlated with body mass, and they had the largest total brain volume relative to body mass of all the corvids in the study.
But episodic memory is not the only outstanding cognitive ability our jays display. Some jays learn to watch for their neighbors caching food in the ground. When the other jay is finished burying and marking the food location, it flies away, confident that it will be able to dig up the food later. But the observing jay quickly moves in to uncover and steal the food. According to research published in the journal Nature, a Western Scrub-Jay who pilfers others’ food caches knows that it could be robbed if another jay is watching it bury its food. It will wait until the other jay is gone, then dig up and re-bury its food elsewhere. If the pilferer has cached the food in private, it knows the food is safe. In contrast, a jay who hasn’t learned to steal will naïvely bury food in full view of other jays. The suspicion of the pilfering jay is an example of experience projection, a cognitive ability using one’s own experience to predict the behavior of another individual in the same situation in the future. Nicola Clayton, a professor of comparative cognition at University of Cambridge in England, and the author of the study, said, “This is the first time we have seen evidence that an animal other than a human recalled the social context of an event and adjusted its future behavior.”
So Western Scrub-Jays are some of the smartest birds around. Their intelligence may not be as celebrated as that of their close relatives, the ravens and crows, but maybe that’s because scientists are just beginning to understand their behavior and brain structure.
Despite their prodigious memory of hundreds of food caches, jays inevitably fail to retrieve some caches. Oaks rely on jays forgetting a few of the acorns they’ve collected and buried. The strategy works for oaks, because not only do the jays disperse acorns to new sites, but they also plant them in the soil. Squirrels, too, cache acorns, but they cannot disperse them as widely as jays do. So when you see Oregon White Oaks on a hilltop, think of the forgetful Western Scrub-Jays who likely planted them there (acorns don’t roll uphill!). The jays’ caching behavior benefits future generations of jays and many other animals by providing more acorn-bearing oaks.
But where acorns are a seasonal crop, peanuts can be had year-round, for a lucky jay with a human acquaintance. Jays are uniquely willing to befriend humans who offer them food. Why this relationship develops relatively easily between jays and humans may be explained in part by jays’ association with deer. Deer stand still to allow Western Scrub-Jays to perform the useful service of picking ticks from their skin, much like an oxpecker. I wonder if jays’ relative tameness around humans is related to their predisposition to land on, and feed off of, large mammals. Landing on a human hand to take a peanut is not so different from landing on a deer to glean ticks.
Despite all of their cleverness and adaptability, a danger they cannot escape threatens these birds. West Nile Virus, the mosquito-borne virus that has only spread to western Oregon within the last few years, kills most corvids it infects (although it is only rarely dangerous to humans). In the fall of 2006, a Western Scrub-Jay was found dead in Corvallis, a victim of West Nile Virus. Wherever the virus has appeared, corvids have been hit hard, so I hope that resistance to this virus builds quickly. I’m concerned about the effects of the disease on our neighborhood jays and the greater population.
But at present, Western Scrub-Jays are thriving in the mid-Willamette Valley. Let the jays in your own backyard or nearby park entertain you with their playful and clever personalities. Almost every neighborhood has its own gang of these noisy, mischievous blue rascals. From our deck we watch our jays chasing one another during a break in the autumn rains. A whistle brings them excitedly swooping across the street, eager to grab the day’s peanut offering. Their boundless enthusiasm is always heartening, their color mirrors clear skies, and their bright eyes look into our own with friendly curiosity. back to index

Moles
by Don Boucher
There are three species of mole in our bioregion.One of them,the Townsend ’s Mole is,at nine inches long,the largest in mole North America.The other two are the Paci ?c
(or Coast)Mole and the Shrew Mole. A Townsend ’s Mole adult is on average six to nine inches long. Males are larger than females.The fur is dark purplish-gray or black and somewhat metallic.
Moles spend most all their time underground,so you ’re not likely to see one.Many people attribute any sign of dirt excavation to moles or confuse moles with voles and pocket gophers.Voles and pocket gophers are rodents with large buck teeth.Moles are insectivores,like shrews,and have pointy teeth,long noses and invisible ears and nearly invisible eyes.Moles and shrews are more closely related to bats than they are to rodents.Both pocket gophers and moles are diggers and soil movers and leave noticeable evidence on the surface of their excavating.Voles in com- parison are e ?ectively little mice in ?elds and do relatively little soil excavation.
There ’s some misinformation out there about how to dis- tinguish moles from other earth movers.Moles rarely make exit or entry holes on the surface.The most common sign of mole activity are their mounds which are hemispherical or cone-shaped with no exit hole.Pocket gophers make their mounds by casting the soil to one side of a visible hole.I ’ve watched pocket gophers do this and they often toss the dirt into the air and periodically poke their noses out of the hole.Sometimes the hole is plugged,but when they are ?nished,the resulting mound is fan-shaped. In contrast,a mole shoves soil upward and it crumbles out from the center.After considerabl e weatheri ng, the shapes of both pocket gopher and mole mounds become distorted,?attened, and less distinguishable.
The Townsend ’s Mole makes characteristically large,numerous mounds,often in rows.
A mole didn ’t make this because this is rodent activity!Pocket gophers make solid tubular deposits under snow cover called eskers or trail castings.When the snow melts,the eskers lie on the surface. Voles and mice may make eskers too.These kind of deposit is rare in the Willamette Valley due to the lack of snow.
Moles make temporary shallow tunnels which result in a raised ridge,like this one illustrated here,visible from the surface.They differ from trail castings or eskers in that they have a hollow tunnel underneath.Permanent mole tunnels are deeper.

Townsend ’s Mole
Scapanus townsendii
Townsend ’s Moles move a lot of soil and their hills may be up to seven inches high.These hills result from the removal of soil from tunnels.Each Townsend ’s Mole makes its own tunnel system which de ?nes its territory.They are solitary creatures and the size of the territory varies with the quality of the habitat.A territory is a little less than half an acre on average.Most tunnels are about six to eight inches deep and are maintained for long-term use.Temporary,shallow tunnels are made during hunting or mating expeditions. This isolated mound was made by a Paci ?c Mole.
These result in a ridge visible on the surface. They get most of their sustenance by patrolling tunnels and snapping up any prey that happens into their tunnel system. They eat a lot of earthworms but any other juicy insect or invertebrate will do. Moles are primarily carnivorous, but Townsend’s Moles also may eat plant material such as tubers and roots, making them unique among North American moles in that they are omnivorous.
Townsend’s Moles are common in the Willamette Valley. They prefer rich loamy soil in fields, bottomlands and floodplains. The sand content in their habitat is typically low. The rows of mole hills in a farmer’s field or unfortunate golf course are the result of Townsend’s Moles. Although common, there is much that is unknown about Townsend’s Moles. I suppose that’s due in part to their underground existence. We do know that they breed from early winter until early spring, depending on climate. Males search for females by burrowing shallow exploratory tunnels. Their mating habits are promiscuous and females raise their young alone. They have an average of three offspring. They build some of the most extensive nests among moles, in undisturbed areas like a corner of a field or under a fence. The nesting chamber is a cavity about eight inches deep, within a huge mound about a foot-and-a-half tall and two feet wide. They line the nesting chamber with a layer of wet or green grass. Inside that is another layer made of dry grass and moss. It is thought that as the wet grass decomposes, the resulting heat keeps the nest cozy.

Pacific Mole
Scapanus orarius
This mole prefers well-drained, sandy soils in meadows or forests. They make fewer, isolated and smaller hills than the Townsend’s Mole, about five inches high. Their general habits are similar to the Townsend’s but they make more of the kind of shallow tunnels which result in visible ridges at the surface. Their diet is exclusively earthworms and other soil invertebrates.
Pacific Mole adults range from five to six inches long. Their fur is dark steely gray with a metallic luster. This is a staged photo with a frozen specimen. Moles seldom make exit holes. We found this poor Pacific Mole dead along a bicycle path. After the photo shoot, Mr. Mole was laid to rest back into the soil.

Shrew Mole
Neurotrichus gibbsi
The Shrew Mole is a true mole, not a shrew. It does resemble a shrew in appearance and in some habits.
The Shrew Mole is the tiniest mole in North America. They make shallow tunnels in leaf litter or loose, decaying vegetation. They’re not as common as our other moles and prefer ground free of turf in shady ravines near streams. They spend a considerable amount of time above the surface. They differ from shrews in that they have pointed, naked snouts and no visible ears. Unlike other mole species, their front feet are longer than wide.
It is not easy to distinguish a Townsend’s Mole from a Pacific Mole. They are both common in the Willamette Valley and may occupy the same area where their habitats conjoin. The size and frequency of the mounds and type of habitat are the most readily available indicators. If you have a specimen, you may need to take it to an expert in order to determine the species. Townsend’s Moles are darker and larger, but there are young and small individuals which are close in size to adult Pacific Moles. A Shrew Mole is unique in appearance and much smaller than both Townsend’s and Pacific Moles.
A Mole’s primary senses are smell and touch. This long, pointy and naked snout is an effective sensory tool.
Both Townsend’s and Pacific Moles have short forelimbs with wide, heavily clawed feet which are effective digging tools.
For many people, a mole is a problem to get rid of. If you own a golf course, it’s a serious problem because you’re dependant on a tidy green lawn for your livelihood. Many people feel it’s pretty important to have a tidy lawn on their property in which case moles pose a threat to their style. Moles do little or no damage to crops and they do a service to soil health by their aerating and tilling. They also benefit humans by eating soil pests. Take a closer look at those mounds next time you see them and see if you can determine if they were made by a mole. Don’t be afraid to dig into and investigate them, as you will do no harm to the mole or pocket gopher if you do. In the spring, larger, out-of-the-way mounds may be nesting chambers and you may as well leave them alone. Isn’t it amazing how much life activity goes on under our feet? back to index

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  Neighborhood Naturalist • 2006 Autumn: V4 #3

Rabbits
by Lisa Millbank
Deep within the ubiquitous blackberry thickets of the Willamette Valley are hidden labyrinths of passages and runways. This secure world of thorns and brambles belongs to two species of cottontail rabbits, the Brush Rabbit and the Eastern Cottontail.

Our native Brush Rabbit (Sylvilagus bachmani) is a small and shy creature who rarely ventures far from the brush for which it is named. For these rabbits, home consists of a territory measuring approximately 2,000 square feet, centered around a thicket. They do not burrow, but they will occasionally use the burrows of other mammals during stormy weather. Each rabbit maintains its own trails and runs that take it to favorite foods and other areas of its small territory. And each trail lets the rabbit dash back to the safety of the brush in case danger threatens. These small bunnies typically sleep under cover for most of the day.
The Eastern Cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus) is native east of the Rocky Mountains and in some areas of the Southwest, but was introduced to the Willamette Valley and southeast Washington for hunters. This rabbit is a little less timid than the Brush Rabbit, and I’ve seen some basking contentedly in the sun, legs sprawling, while I was only a few yards away. It’s more flexible in its choice of habitat and may be found in open areas, especially at night. Our two rabbit species are often very difficult to distinguish, but any rabbit you see venturing out far beyond cover, running away in a zig-zag pattern with a large, white “cottontail” flashing, is probably the abundant Eastern Cottontail. They seek safe thickets for most of the day like their Brush Rabbit cousins, but they will cautiously emerge and graze on park lawns, fields, and gardens.

Brush Rabbit
A small, dark native rabbit with smaller, more uniformly colored ears and less visible “cottontail”, it is less often observed than the Eastern Cottontail.

Eastern Cottontail
An introduced species from eastern North America. This rabbit has a bright, white “cottontail” visible when the rabbit hops, and many show dark edges and tips of the ears. Tops of the feet are whitish. This is a youngster; the inset shows an adult.

Both of our rabbit species prefer to eat green herbaceous plants, and they supplement this diet with woody plants during winter. When you find a blackberry thicket with rabbit runways, check the thick branches framing the runway entrance for nibble marks, because these thorny strongholds provide both shelter and food for bunny tenants. As they munch grasses and herbs near cover, rabbits often create a “lawn” along the edge of the brush they inhabit, which resembles a manicured golf green. There will also be small, round, dry droppings.
Because rabbits need to stay safely under cover most of the time, they quickly eat as much food as they can and retreat back into underbrush. To get the most nutrients from their food, rabbits produce two kinds of fecal pellets. The moist type, called cecal pellets, consist of lightly digested plants they consumed quickly while in the open. Rabbits eat their cecal pellets to thoroughly digest their food and absorb the maximum nutrition. They can eat and digest these pellets within the safety of the brush. Later, rabbits produce the second, dry type of pellet, which is deposited as waste.
Brush Rabbit pellets. Generally 5-10mm in diameter and almost indistinguishable from Eastern Cottontail pellets. A penny is to the right for scale. (Pellets resemble Cocoa Puffs!)

I have heard what I am sure was the cry of a rabbit as a predator killed it. During a thunderstorm I walked through an overgrown field of tall grass and brush. As the grass quivered in the wind and the rain intensified, I heard a terrible, heartbreaking scream from the far end of the field. It was a chilling sound, and one of the only sounds characteristic of rabbits. I hoped the end came quickly. Most rabbits don’t live long because they are valuable food for so many others. Among the Willamette Valley residents who eat adult rabbits are Great-horned Owls, Red-tailed Hawks, Coyotes, Red Foxes, Gray Foxes, Long-tailed Weasels, Minks, and their major predator, Bobcats. Young rabbits are particularly vulnerable and may also be eaten by Gopher Snakes, Raccoons, Short-tailed Weasels, Spotted Skunks and Striped Skunks. Domestic dogs and cats take rabbits, and human hunters and cars kill great numbers. When you see signs of rabbit activity, don’t miss signs of predation. Clumps of thick, soft fur and parts of rabbit limbs are sometimes nearby, and the droppings and pellets of the carnivorous mammals and birds will show fur and pieces of bone. To make up for the losses, rabbits reproduce at an astonishingly fast pace.
Brush Rabbits and Eastern Cottontails begin their breeding season as the days lengthen, generally in February. The gestation period for both species is approximately one month. A pregnant rabbit constructs a cuplike nest for her litter and lines it with grass. She plucks her own fur to make a soft inner lining. A Brush Rabbit’s typical litter size is three babies, while Eastern Cottontails average four or five. A baby bunny is hairless and blind at birth. (Compare this to young hares and jackrabbits, who are fully furred at birth and soon hopping around.) The mother rabbit conceals her nest with a layer of grass. She returns to the nest a few times each day to nurse and clean her babies. The young rabbits develop quickly—in two weeks they can leave their nest, and at seven weeks they find a territory of their own. The mother is most likely preparing for her next litter by the time her young are independent, and she will produce, on average, five litters per season. Baby bunnies are surely some of nature’s most irresistible creations, but by late August, when the breeding season ends, the mother rabbit has probably had enough of them.
Young rabbits are more likely to be active for part the day and some of them are strangely unwary, like the young Eastern Cottontail on page 1. Rabbits freeze before fleeing when they perceive a threat. Sometimes, by moving slowly and carefully, you can get surprisingly close to them.
Look for Brush Rabbits in the early morning or dusk. Although particularly numerous along the Oregon coast, they also thrive in the thickets at Willamette River Greenway at Truax Island, Herbert Open Space south of Corvallis, and any suitably brushy area. You will see Eastern Cottontails in both urban areas like Avery Park, and more natural settings such as E.E. Wilson Wildlife Area. William L. Finley National Wildlife Refuge is a good place to see both species, especially the Eastern Cottontails who stretch out lazily on the lawn at the headquarters.
Runways
Rabbit skulls are easy to distinguish from the skulls of other small mammals because of the fine, lacy bone structure over the nasal cavities. Inset: Lagomorphs differ from rodents in several ways, notably the incisor teeth. There are two pairs of upper incisors, where rodents have only one pair.
Brush Rabbit runways in a thicket of Tall Oregon-grape, Poison Oak, Snowberry and Himalayan Blackberry. Willamette River Greenway at Truax Island.

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The Age of Soil Bugs, Pseudoscorpions
by Don Boucher
Last spring we looked the astronomically numerous springtails. Springtails are minute arthropods which live in the soil and are closely related to insects. In this issue I would like to introduce you to another denizen of the humus beneath our feet, the pseudoscorpion. Before I do that, I’d like to set the record straight on the importance of the little-known critters of the soil.
Humans are vertebrates and our perspective on natural order is skewed in our favor. We look at eras of natural history based the presence or absence of vertebrate megafauna. You may have learned about the “age of mammals” in textbooks. This is the era of geologic time since the extinction of the dinosaurs. Before that was “the age of amphibians” and then the earlier “age of fishes.” Downplayed is the fact that, during the “age of fishes” in the Devonian period, the land was colonized by arthropods. At that time, arthropods and soft-bodied invertebrates set up an ecosystem which created the first soil. As we all know, all life on land still is dependant on the health of that soil. Most animals in the soil have changed little since about 400 millions years ago when they claimed the continents. I would say we’re still living in an “age of soil bugs.”
Pseudoscorpion
This is a living fossil whose ancestors likely preceded the appearance of spiders on land—that would mean more than 380 million years ago. As the name implies, they are not quite scorpions, but they are arachnids, like scorpions, mites and spiders. They are more related to a spider than a scorpion and they lack the scorpion’s venom-pointed tail. They’re tiny, about 1/8 inch or less. Pseudoscorpions are predators and feed on their arthropod and soft-bodied neighbors. They seize their victims with venomous pinchers. As in scorpions, these pinchers are oversized pedipalps, an analogous structure to a spider’s mouthparts. Although not particularly numerous, I’ve found them while looking for fall mushrooms, but they’re present all year long among leaf litter, soil and rotten logs. One beneficial species, the book scorpion (Chelifer cancroides), can be found in houses, where it hunts book lice.
Pseudoscorpions produce silk from the mouth area. The silk is used for making cocoons, in which they may overwinter or molt. In most species, the hatchlings remain in a brood pouch attached to the female’s abdomen, where they feed on a milk-like liquid produced by the ovaries. Some species can live up 4 years.

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Acorn Woodpecker
Melanerpes formicivorus
by Don Boucher
Last autumn I was concerned. The Oregon White Oaks around Corvallis produced no acorns. This is natural in the long-term acorn cycles of oaks. Nevertheless, for one of my favorite bird species, the Acorn Woodpecker, acorns are a significant food source and last year’s lack of acorns seemed to spell disaster. This year the Acorn Woodpeckers are doing fine and their survival is due to their remarkable habits which are uncommon in the bird world.
Acorn Woodpeckers spend all year in the Willamette Valley where they are particular to pure stands of Oregon White Oak. They may utilize acorns from cultivated oak species but their diet is almost exclusively native acorns. Some colonies in the southern Willamette Valley may enjoy the native California Black Oak.
The Acorn Woodpecker is mostly black with white wing patches, a white face, which has a yellow wash, and a lower belly that is white. The eyes have a white iris and the crown is capped with red. Males are distinguished from females with more red on the crown, touching the white area on the forehead. They are vociferous and playful, often cackling, squawking and chasing each other around.
The Acorn Woodpecker’s distinctive face; described by many as ‘clown-like.’ The male on the left has a red crown, shown here as grey, extending from his white forehead to back of the head. The female on the right has black meeting the white on the face and a smaller red area on the back of the head.

Range
Extreme southwest Washington State (inland), Willamette Valley, Oregon, south through California, northern Baja California and the mountains of Arizona, New Mexico, western Texas and south through Mexico to northern South America.

Willamette Valley Habitat
Oak stands with a canopy in lowlands and foothills.

There are three strategies birds use to deal with the lack of food during seasons of scarcity. Migration is one. During our winter, many birds fly to tropic areas where food is more reliable. Another strategy is to eke out a living by diligent foraging and occasional food caching that may last only a few days. This second strategy means life on the edge of starvation and many succumb during times of severe weather. Acorn Woodpeckers have mastered a third strategy—they store food from abundant seasons in granaries.
Just like the grain silos farmers use, Acorn Woodpeckers keep thousands of acorns in granary trees. They guard them against thieves and maintain the acorns to prevent them from spoilage. Last winter, our Acorn Woodpeckers ate the remaining acorns stored from the previous year. This year, with granaries almost empty, they have their work cut out for them. I’m happy to report that the local oaks are growing many, fat acorns. Some birds, like jays, hide food to be retrieved weeks or a few months later, but the Acorn Woodpecker’s granaries are unrivaled in scale and in the length of time stored food may be utilized. In the case of last winter, that is nearly one and a half years.
How does a woodpecker protect thousands of acorns from squirrels, jays and other would-be thieves? The answer to that has to do with another remarkable habit. Acorn Woodpeckers live, breed and maintain granaries in family groups of up to 16 individuals. They do everything together, forage, raise young and protect their granaries and nests from raiders. European Starlings, who are numerous in Acorn Woodpecker habitat, are notorious for aggressively taking nest cavities from native birds. Bird populations, like that of the Western Bluebird, are under continual threat due to human removal of dead trees and starlings taking any scarce cavity left. Acorn Woodpeckers are bigger, meaner and more communally coordinated than starlings. Starlings don’t stand a chance of stealing a nest cavity from an Acorn Woodpecker colony. As for the acorn granaries, starlings have neither tools nor a liking to eat acorns. Other acorn eaters are kept at bay by the vigilance of the colony. Acorn Woodpeckers haven’t made as much of an effective use of human structures for nesting like starlings have. They need healthy stands of native oaks which are under threat of development in the Willamette Valley.
This typical Willamette Valley acorn granary is a dead oak limb with a few hundred acorn holes.

An acorn granary is most often a dead tree or dead tree limb. Sometimes giant, live pine trees with thick bark are suitable granaries but such trees are rare in the Willamette Valley. Occasionally, wooden utility poles and buildings are used. The woodpeckers bore acorn-sized holes on the outside of the tree and jam acorns into the holes. This keeps them secure and dry, protecting them from rot. Only a woodpecker can get them out effectively. By the time a jay, squirrel or other woodpecker could loosen one, they would be noticed and chased away by members of the colony. In the Willamette Valley, colonies have numerous granaries on dead limbs yielding a total of few thousand holes. Some colonies elsewhere in its range have large granaries which can have tens of thousands of acorn holes. Fresh acorns dry and shrink so members of the colony regularly adjust and reposition the acorns. You might think insect infestation would be a problem but just the opposite is true! Like other woodpeckers, Acorn Woodpeckers relish insects and a fat larva inside an acorn shell is more nutritious and tasty than the acorn itself.
More than acorns, Acorn Woodpeckers eat insects, which may be obtained in the classic woodpecker fashion of extracting wood-boring insects (often beetle larvae) from dead wood. When flying insects are plentiful in spring and summer, they may catch them from exposed perches by flycatching (which is pursuing them in flight and returning to the same perch to repeat the process when another juicy bug flies by). They will also take advantage of available fruit in their territory like cherries, elderberries or apples. They may also take advantage of sap drippings made by their woodpecker cousin, the Red-breasted Sapsucker. Sapsuckers chisel holes in bark to get a drink of sap. The holes are called “wells” and attract insects which may get trapped by sticky sap—an added treat. In some older texts, the Acorn Woodpecker is referred to as “Ant-eating Woodpecker” and which is retained in their scientific name formicivorus (formic means “of ants”, -ivorus means “eater”). Unfortunately, that’s an inept name since they eat ants less than any other woodpecker.


Newcomers
It has also been called the California Woodpecker and they indeed are very common there. In fact, records indicate that they are newcomers to the Willamette Valley, arriving in the 20th century; Eugene 1920; Corvallis 1950; Tigard 1975 and Washington State 1979. It has been hypothesized that their range extension is due to fire suppression resulting in closed-canopy oak stands which are more favorable to the woodpeckers1.

Suggested Reading
1 Birds of Oregon, A General Reference. David B. Marshall, Matthew G. Hunter and Alan L. Contreras. 2003 OSU Press


Favorite Acorn Woodpecker Colonies
I asked birders throughout the Willamette Valley about their favorite places to see Acorn Woodpeckers. These sites are all easy to find and publicly accessible.


1) Pacific University in Forest Grove — most popular by far;
2) Champoeg State Park;
3) Wortman Park, McMinnville;
4) Molalla Buckeroo Rodeo Grounds; 5) Mark Twain Middle School, Silverton; 6) Sublimity City Park, Sublimity; 7) Ankeny Hill Rd & Liberty Rd, northwest corner of Ankeny NWR; 8) Adair County Park, Benton Co.; 9) Woodland Meadows Park, Corvallis;
10) Benton County Fairgrounds & Campus Way, Corvallis; 11) Philomath Elementary School, Philomath; 12) Fayetteville, Linn Co., Fayetteville Dr & Pugh Rd.; 13) Mill Hill Barn, Finley NWR; 14) Fern Ridge Reservoir, Royal Ave & Fir Butte Rd.

Of course, there are many other places to see Acorn Woodpeckers. Find their preferred habitat and start watching.

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2006 Summer: V4 #2

Osprey
Pandion haliaetus
by Lisa Millbank
Atop a utility pole platform overlooking the busy Harrison Street bridge in downtown Corvallis sits a nest where Ospreys have brought up their families for many years. Their chirps and whistles are common summer sounds over downtown Corvallis. As the Osprey population continues to increase, they are becoming an everyday presence in cities on the Willamette River.
Of all the birds of prey, the Osprey is one of the most widely distributed. They live on six continents, along rivers, lakeshores, and coasts, wherever there are trees or human-made structures available for nesting and enough fish to support them. Despite their worldwide success, the infamous pesticide DDT reduced their numbers to only 8,000 pairs in the US by 1983. Fortunately, their numbers doubled as DDT and DDE residues diminished. Along the Willamette River from Eugene to Portland, there was an eighteenfold increase in Osprey pairs from 1976-2001. Now over 250 of the bulky nests line the river, with more at wetlands like William L. Finley NWR.
Ospreys belong to the same order as eagles, falcons, and hawks, but they have followed their own evolutionary course for a very long time. One of the anatomical differences that sets Ospreys apart from the other hawks is the structure of the foot. The bottom of the foot is covered with rough, spiny scales called spicules, that help them grasp slippery fish. Unlike the other hawks, they have toes of equal length and a reversible outer toe, so that they can grip with two toes in front and two in the back.
Every day, an Osprey flies for hours over water, using its superb vision to look for fish. A dark band of feathers surrounding the eye reduces glare. A hunting Osprey frequently hovers and adjusts its position multiple times before folding back its wings in a spectacular dive. Plunging into the water feet first, the Osprey may disappear underwater for a moment before emerging. Many hunts are unsuccessful, but if it has caught a large fish, it slowly rises from the water with considerable effort. The Osprey shakes water from its feathers in flight and aligns the fish headfirst to reduce drag. It flies to a nearby perch or to the nest to feed. A 2003 study found that Ospreys on the Willamette River eat Largescale Suckers almost exclusively, but they also catch small numbers of Northern Pikeminnow, Common Carp, and other species. Ospreys nesting at reservoirs, coastal areas and wetlands will take almost any species of fish present there. In some areas they endure harassment from Bald Eagles, who rob them of their catch.
The first Ospreys to return from their wintering grounds on the Pacific coast of Mexico usually are seen at Corvallis around March 22. Gradually, more birds move northward, sometimes carrying a fish for a meal along the way. When the Corvallis pair reunites at their nest, they whistle to one another excitedly. The partners may have spent the winter hundreds of miles apart. To reestablish their bond, the male performs an aerial courtship display of dives and climbs, while carrying a fish and emitting a piercing chirp. The birds preen one another’s feathers and spend time together at their weather-beaten nest. They begin bringing fresh material to repair it, picking up sticks they find on the ground or snapping dead branches from trees. Their massive nest could reach half a ton.
By the end of April the nest is fixed up and ready for use. The female lays about three eggs and the partners share the task of incubation for more than a month, until the downy chicks hatch in early June. Now the male brings fish to the female and chicks, who stay on the nest together for one month. By early August, at the age of seven or eight weeks, the chicks make their first flights. Soon they practice fishing, a demanding skill, and they must be ready for the migration that will take them a thousand miles south. It has been estimated that an Osprey family consumes almost 400 pounds of fish in one breeding season.
The downtown Osprey nest is always a busy place in summer. You can watch the adults fishing, see the chicks flapping their wings in the nest, and listen to the family’s continual whistled conversation. But by late September, the Ospreys will be on their way back to their sunny winter home until next spring.
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Stargaze This Summer
by Steve McGettigan, Heart of the Valley Astronomers
On your next clear evening, you might notice a very bright star in the southeast sky—dramatically outshining every other star in the sky. “What is it?” “How do you look at it?” “Why is it so bright?” “Who do I contact to find out more about this object?” These questions and more are ones that Heart of the Valley Astronomers routinely answer for the community. We’re a group of local amateur astronomers who share a passion for the night sky and contributing our dedication to the public.
The summer is an excellent time to do some casual star viewing and a good place to begin is with the object mentioned in the first sentence. For that very bright star is actually the planet Jupiter. One good way to find it now is to draw a line between the three stars within the Big Dipper’s handle. By continuing with this curved line beyond the handle, you can “follow the arc” towards Jupiter, which has the bright blue star Spica next to it. Even the spotting scopes that you’d use for nature watching will easily reveal Jupiter’s cloud bands, colors, and moon system.
This season bodes well for viewing other great sights, too. Like Jupiter, Saturn is another spectacular planet to view in our summer sky—small telescopes will show the rings easily. The Andromeda Galaxy is also worth searching out with binoculars. As the Milky Way’s nearest large galactic neighbor, Andromeda yields nice views of its arms and core. Its form and size are very similar to that of our galaxy; if we went a few million light-years away from Earth and looked towards home, something like the Andromeda Galaxy would be the sight in our eyes.
If you’re seeking a good naked-eye target, keep an eye out for the Perseid Meteor Shower. This shower appears from the northeast portion of the sky during the nights of August 11 & 12 and originates from the dust left behind by Comet Swift-Tuttle. As Earth passes through the comet’s dust ring, we’ll see this dust emerge as fiery streaks across the sky.
If you’re interested in learning more about Heart of the Valley Astronomers, our events, or the night sky, then check out our web site at www.hvaastronomy.com. All of our events are free and open to the public. If you have any questions, you can always contact us at mcgettis@peak.org or give us a call at 766-6048.

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Tarweed & Gumweed
by Don Boucher
Come mid-summer, perhaps on a bike ride down a Mid-Valley country road, you’ll get wafts of a resinous, and somewhat unpleasant, odor. This is due to tarweeds, important plants to the Kalapuya, who ate the oily seeds.
There are about five tarweed species that are common in the Willamette Valley. The tarweeds are a in the sunflower family and in the genus Madia. They are characterized by yellow flowers, sticky hairs which cover the entire plant and a strong odor. Some species are variable and a challenge to distinguish from one another. Tarweeds grow in dry fields and roadsides.
Willamette Valley Gumweed is not to be confused with the tarweeds. Gumweed is also in the sunflower family but native people did not use its seeds as food. Gumweed has yellow flowers and it is in the genus Grindelia. Gumweed and tarweeds are native plants with tarweeds being more common.
Kalapuyans harvested tarweed seeds in August and September after they burned fields. Burning also promoted the growth of other food such as camas and acorns. Burning removed the sticky quality and loosened the seeds. Paddles were used dislodge the seeds into baskets or rawhide buckets. Collected seeds were ground into a tasty meal and sometimes mixed with other foods.
I’ve tried to harvest a few raw seeds on a couple occasions only to find that goldfinches beat me to them. Today it seems, most seeds pods get neatly split open and emptied by the birds. American Goldfinches are significant consumers of seeds from plants in the sunflower family, primarily thistles but also tarweeds. I don’t know to what degree the Kalapuya had problems with birds eating tarweed seeds. I can imagine that the native tarweeds were more numerous in the past without the competition from Eurasian plants like thistles and Oxeye Daisies. Perhaps the goldfinches made a lesser impact on such large tarweed populations?


Showy Tarweed (Madia elegans)
Large, yellow ray flowers (up to ¾ in.), sometimes orange at the base, that extend in a neat flat plane from the flower head. The plant is covered with sticky hairs. The flower heads are somewhat spaced along an erect, single stem. Plants are up to 4 feet tall. Habitat: Prairies, open woodlands and roadsides.

Common Tarweed (Madia gracilis and M. sativa)
Sometimes called Chilean Tarweed. Yellow ray flowers (up to 3/8 in.) and a flower head with a bulbous bract base. Disc flowers with darker spots. Plants grow up to 3 feet and branches several times near the top where the flowers tend to cluster. Habitat: Dry ground and roadsides.


Willamette Valley Gumweed (Grindelia integrifolia)
Yellow ray flowers (up to ¾ in.) and a plant that may reach 5 feet high. Flower heads are distinguished from tarweeds by curled bracts. It does not have a strong odor and gets its name from a sticky gum that coats the flower bracts. It does not have sticky hairs but the leaves are sticky, to a lesser degree than tarweeds, due to small glandular dots of resin. Habitat: Near vernal ponds and sometimes in pastures.

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2006 Spring: V4 #1

Black Cottonwood
Populus balsamifera trichocarpa
By Lisa Millbank
The gentle curves and floodplains of Willamette Valley rivers and streams support the tallest western hardwood, the Black Cottonwood. An open crown and upright branches identify this tree when it is bare in winter, and in summer it develops shining green foliage. But it is best known for the clusters of white, fluffy hairs that bear the minute seeds aloft on late spring breezes. There are few heralds of summer more delightful than a cottonwood “snow” shower on a warm spring day.
The genus Populus is part of the willow family, Salicaceae. This family is dioecious, with male and female flowers on separate plants. Like their close kin, the willows, the cottonwoods have adapted to wet soils, finding their niche in seasonally flooded areas that most other trees can’t tolerate.
After the winter’s high water recedes, the cottonwood’s reproductive season begins. The male and female trees produce dangling catkins, and pollen is transferred to the pistillate catkins by wind. By mid-April, the leaf buds, permeated with a sweet-scented, sticky resin, extend lustrous, oval leaves with pointed tips. Soon, the seeds ripen and the capsules split to release silky parachutes. Some of these fluffy seeds land on water and float along on the surface tension, perhaps colonizing a new sandbar laid down by the winter’s floods. Some land on the soft mud nearby and may grow to someday shade the river below. The cottonwoods also can sprout from their roots and cut stumps. They can selectively drop certain leafy twigs that will take root in moist soil where they fall, or float downstream to grow elsewhere.
Humans and other animals use the Black Cottonwood for food. In the Willamette Valley, beavers like to eat cottonwood and use it as building material, as evidenced by the abundance of gnawed stumps and wood at some wetlands. E.E. Wilson Wildlife Area, Willamette River Greenway at Truax Island, and W.L. Finley National Wildlife Refuge are good places to see beaver activity and sign, mainly on cottonwoods. Deer sometimes eat the leaves and twigs. The caterpillars of the Western Tiger Swallowtail, Lorquin’s Admiral, Persius Duskywing, and numerous moths feed on the foliage. The Northwest native people ate the sweet cambium and inner bark of the cottonwoods in late spring. The sticky, aromatic resin on the leaf buds is powerfully anti-microbial. It is often called “balsam” or “Balm-of-Gilead”. Honeybees gather the cottonwood resin from the leaf buds and use it to make a unique substance called propolis. A mouse was observed to have chewed its way into a beehive and died, probably from bee stings. The bees could not remove the dead mouse, so they thoroughly covered it with propolis, “mummifying” it and protecting themselves from the bacteria of the decaying mouse.
Bees were the first users of Populus resins, but nearly all native people in the area used them too. The resin contains caffeic acid that has anti-bacterial, anti-fungal, and anti-inflammatory activity, and the salicylate glycosides relieve pain and inflammation as aspirin does. In Germany, preparations of Populus resins are prescribed for external injuries after studies found that the resin stimulated wound healing.
Historically, people used the Black Cottonwood for making friction-fire bow drill sets, small canoes and firewood. They made the ashes into a hair rinse, twisted the roots into rope, and spun the inner bark fibers into softer plant fibers for strength. The resin was not only medicine, but could be made into paint and waterproofing. Today people use the wood for boxes and crates and for wood pulp. The fragrant shavings make a good pillow stuffing. Woodcarvers use the thick bark as a carving medium. As spring warms the earth, enjoy the fragrance of the buds and the emergence of new leaves. Take a walk along a riverside path in a blizzard of cottonwood fluff. Listen for the warblers and vireos hidden in the leafy crowns of the Black Cottonwood, our tallest hardwood tree.

The World’s Largest Black Cottonwood
Willamette Mission State Park (north of Salem)
Circumference 26’8”
Height 158’
Crown Spread 110’

Cottonwood leaves have a long stalk, or petiole, and are oval to heart-shaped with pointed tips. They are generally 3-6” long.

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Glow Worms
by Don Boucher
Go into the forest at night this spring or early summer. You might find an occasional little greenish glowing spot. This is a glow worm. Glow worms are closely related to Fireflies or Lightning Bugs. They are beetles and our species is called the Douglas-fir Glow Worm (Pterotus obscuripennis) and are as long as 3/4 of an inch. Only the females glow. Adult females remain in their larval form and are unable to fly, although they are capable of mating and producing eggs. The males reach the adult beetle form but easily go unnoticed. They are predators of snails. The females’ glow attracts males and warns predators that the glow worms taste bad.

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The Age of Soil Bugs
by Don Boucher
I’m amused at natural history references like, “Age of Dinosaurs” or “Age of Mammals.” While it may be useful to note geologic periods based on their predominant megafauna fossils, it’s a bit of a stretch to refer to a time when “dinosaurs ruled,” to be surpassed by a time when “mammals ruled”. When it comes to animal life on land, the bugs in the soil rule. The soil forms the foundation of life on land. The largest, most impressive beasts above the soil (ourselves included) are at the mercy of the minute fauna in the soil.
Many of these tiny soil fauna have changed little for 500 million years. The dinosaurs lasted only 150 million and have all disappeared (except birds maybe). Throughout natural history, most of the animal mass on land has been populated by tiny creatures hidden from view. Nematode worms and mites are the most numerous and springtails are a rival in third place. This world, right under our feet, is just as alien and weird as any science fiction novel or deep sea expedition. Kneel down, lift up the leaf litter, and welcome to the “Lost World.”

Springtails
There are as many as 248 million springtails found in an acre of pasture soil. They are commonly less than 1/8 inch long. Most are visible with the eye but you’ll get a better look if you use a magnifying glass. Science once considered them insects but not anymore. They are more ancient but still are regarded as most closely related to insects than to any other group of arthropods. Like insects, they have six legs but they never had wings or external mouthparts. In most species, there is a tail-like appendage, a furcula, tucked under body which is used for jumping to escape danger. That’s the giveaway when looking for them. Pull up a rotten log or look under a squishy mushroom and look for little bits popping about. Those are springtails. They are very diverse and there is a species dedicated to eating almost anything edible in the soil. They form a prey base for less numerous and more dramatic predators. They are vital to the soil community and healthy soil should contain lots of them.
To Be Continued
Go find some springtails, they’re in most any soil. You’ll be amazed.

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Le Printemps: A Spring Soliloquy
Melissa Matthewson
Something is clamoring away inside, something that teeters like a shaky chickadee on the bare, gray branches of the plum tree in my yard. If I go outside to the garden, I look into the mess of matted hay and straw and mud and squint as if the worms might tell me a secret or show me a sign. It has been many weeks since I’ve pulled on my rubber boots, slowed down from the all-too-human world to walk unencumbered into the wild green of my neighborhood wood. It has been many weeks since I’ve picked lichen from the trees or stretched to gather stones. I go now because I can feel the pull of spring, the stretching of my limbs toward the wish of longer days, more light, sun. I am searching for something, and I have dipped into the folds of Bald Hill to find it.
I have never known a wetter, or danker, Northwest winter than this January’s damp and deep nesting of rain. I have never known even what it is to turn pallid under my tangled blond hair, this California girl, a daughter of the endless summer, the girl who picks oranges from trees in mid-winter. The girl who knows ever-blooming jasmine and bougainvillea, palm trees and avocados. Here, I am a woman trapped under gray skies that push down on me like heavy weights. I go to the outside, to the top of a hill in this temporary wetland where white oaks are tall and bursting with green lichen and cottonwoods drip catkins onto the ground. In spring, the smell of balsam will be a warm tonic spread thick over the air, raw and sweet until the white cottony hair takes to the sky floating over water and wind. I go now to really feel winter, and maybe, to beckon spring.
When I lived in Missoula, Montana, my second spring in the northern country, at the first sign of melting snow and ice, I raced out into the nearest wood and spent hours searching for the first of the tree buds, watching the uncurling of warmth from the soil. I walked, inspecting the tiny green shoots of the lily, finding right beside the fragile yellow beauty of the sage buttercup. Here, in the damp and wet of Oregon, I wait for the white of the Indian plum or up higher in the woods, the queen’s cup. On my walk, I find fresh shoots of scallion and hope for the succulent nettles of longer days.
In Bald Hill’s nice mix of farm and wood, I follow a path where I walk over cracked shells from rotten galls and look up into white oaks to find the speckled balls still clinging to the underside of leaves. The galls are as big as my fist, blown up into wild kidney beans, still holding onto the branch of an oak. Some lay on the ground, perched onto the soggy leaves, droppings of a sort like manure from a horse. Soon, they too will be absorbed. There are small birds, gray with their little

cheep cheeps, sparrows pitching around in the trees. They are soft over the roar of the swelling stream, now up to the ridge of the creek bed, all these young trees buried in water. Everywhere is water, damp and cold drizzle, floods, new streams and runoff, all so deep from the endless January rain. It just goes on and on, and the wild rose with the red hips root firm like little fires against a dying winter sky.
I turn a corner through the trees. I find a farm and green pasture, also flooded, but with grazing cattle and wet sheep resting in the puddles. I think there is nothing more beautiful than a spotted landscape of oak and wood and pasture and farm. Here, it is green and lovely. In other places, like the Montana front, everything is cold, frozen, dormant, unyielding and raw. I find comfort in the fact that grass still grows fine in this place. That tender scallions poke up thin and green from entangled leaves. Walking along, I find nesting boxes on each post. What birds make their homes here? I want to open them and find twigs and trash and feathers and the perfect round of a rough nest. I walk over more gullies and more floods. I wonder if these fields will erupt with blue camas in spring? Will the gentle sighs of pastel and blue bring us out from our dwelling places or the dark caves where we have buried ourselves for winter? Will the floods bring us flowers?
I pass a sweet homestead on the hill. It keeps watch, a yellow house on the tips of this great green park with bare orchard and brown garden. At a junction in trails, I smell dung and manure, the accumulated waste of livestock flowing into the creek. The manure flows over ground, a collection joined into water, into earth. Matter to make spring. The old unto the new. I reach the pole barn and stand under its heaving wood, Corvallis all around. There is a dance of oaks, lichen and a light drizzle that echoes over the naked ground and up the wood poles and reverberates out over the meadow. White oak branches frame a picture against a gray sky. And there is Corvallis, the damp and muddy village spread out before me.
As the winter rain pounds harder, my dog waits for me by my side.
Melissa lives and writes in Corvallis, Oregon. Her work has appeared in BackHome Magazine, Camas: The Nature of the West and most recently, she has an essay in a collection out from Dry Canyon Press. Melissa has a M.S. in Environmental Studies from the University of Montana with an emphasis on sustainable agriculture as well as environmental writing and literature. She is interested in the revitalization of local agriculture and the connections we find around food and home. As Melissa continues to work on writing and agriculture, she hopes to purchase a small farm in Oregon where, along with her husband, she will homestead, raise sheep and produce organic vegetables.

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2005-06 Winter: V3 #4

Mistletoe
by Lisa Millbank
Mistletoe is, to many people, another winter holiday cliché. Forlorn, withered clumps tied with red ribbons, often dyed a lurid green, are sold as Christmas party ornaments. After the festivities, the mistletoe is thrown away and forgotten again.
But mistletoe has such a peculiar lifestyle, and so many extraordinary customs and beliefs have been associated with this plant, that it is interesting to observe the year round.

Hemiparasite
Mistletoe is a hemiparasite, meaning it is capable of producing some of its own energy through photosynthesis, but it also requires a host to parasitize for water, minerals, and carbohydrates. It is incapable of growing on its own from soil. With modified branches called haustoria it penetrates the vascular tissue of a host tree. Although a heavy infestation of mistletoe certainly places some burden on its host tree, it usually does not seriously harm it. If it did so, it would be to the detriment of the mistletoe. When the tree dies, so does the mistletoe.
In the mid-Willamette Valley, there are two genera of mistletoe: Arceuthobium, parasites of conifers, and Phoradendron, generally parasites of oaks in our area. Phoradendron means “tree thief”, and you can easily observe our species, Phoradendron villosum, living off oaks nearby. Most often this species, the Oak (or Pacific) Mistletoe parasitizes our native Oregon White Oak, but other oaks planted as landscaping are not immune. In winter the spherical green clumps are clearly visible in the oaks’ bare branches.

Toxic Berries
Oak Mistletoe produces inconspicuous, petal-less, yellowish-green flowers borne on short spikes from the leaf axils. Female flowers are on separate plants from male flowers. The small, fleshy, whitish fruit contains sticky, slimy viscin, a substance that surrounds a green membrane encasing the seed. The berry, and the whole plant, is poisonous to humans. The amines beta-phenylethylamine and tyramine appear to be the most toxic compounds. But some species are unaffected by these compounds and like to eat mistletoe berries. They provide the only way for mistletoe to spread from tree to tree.

Mistletoe and Bird Poop
In the late fall and winter, when food gets more scarce for fruit-loving birds, the female Oak Mistletoe plant has an ample supply of berries. Cedar Waxwings, Western Bluebirds, and American Robins are among the local birds who enjoy the fruit, although they can only digest the outer skin and some of the viscin inside the berry. Then, in the best of circumstances, the bird defecates the seed on a suitable oak branch. Some of the viscin remains to help the seed adhere to the bark, and the bird’s digestive tract does not break the tough membrane around the seed. The odds are slim that a given seed will be deposited in a suitable location, but those lucky few arrive with their own supply of fertilizer. When walking in an oak woodland or savanna, such as those at W. L. Finley NWR, it is interesting to find a well-used bird perch. It may be a rock, a fencepost, a branch, or the top of a birdhouse. There is often a cluster of little white specks solidly stuck to the perch. They are mistletoe seeds, with the bird dropping washed away by rain. The seeds’ adhesive properties are remarkable, and a successful reproductive strategy. When you see mistletoe growing in the oaks, you can read a history of bird activity written into the trees.
A spectacularly iridescent butterfly, the Great Purple Hairstreak (Atlides halesus) depends on Phoradendron mistletoe species. Its caterpillars feed exclusively on the mistletoe as its host plant. In our area this is an uncommon butterfly, but it is most likely to be seen near hilltops with mistletoe-infested oaks.

Humans and Mistletoe
Our own species has long been interested in mistletoe. Many cultures have held the mistletoe as a sacred, healing plant, including the Celtic Druids and Scandinavians of northern Europe, the Ainu of the northernmost islands of Japan, some African peoples, the Chinese, and the ancient Greeks and Romans. For many Native American groups, mistletoe was an important medicine. The custom of kissing under the mistletoe is thought to have arisen from either the Celts’ use of the plant to increase female fertility, and to symbolize peace, harmony, and hospitality, or the Scandinavians, for whom mistletoe belonged to Frigga (Freya), the goddess of love. The Romans’ winter festivals of Saturnalia and Natalis Solis Invicti were extravagant feasts during which people draped garlands of mistletoe around their homes. Not surprisingly, in the fourth century, the Church forbade the use of mistletoe because of its pagan history and established a new tradition–holly. Holly was seen as an appropriate symbol for Christ, with the pointed leaves representing the crown of thorns and the red berries as drops of blood. The mistletoe taboo lasted throughout the Middle Ages.
But some of the legendary powers attributed to mistletoe are now under scientific scrutiny. Many species from throughout the world, all chemically complex, may show promise in treating disease. Some are proving to be potent stimulators of the human immune system, even helping to inhibit HIV-1 virus replication. Others are cytotoxic against some forms of cancer. Mistletoe increases human natural killer cell activity and may increase survival time for cancer patients. Scientists have just begun to study the effects of mistletoe extracts on pain and convulsive disorders. In one study, mistletoe extract decreased pain in women with endometriosis. But any mistletoe preparation must be taken with knowledge and caution, as its medicinal properties are in large part due to potentially lethal toxins.
In the winter solstice season, observe our remarkable Oak Mistletoe, evergreen in the barren trees. Listen for the soft calls of Western Bluebirds in the oak savanna, as they savor the mistletoe’s fruit on a cloudy, cold day. Or bring a sprig into your home, as people have done for millennia, and appreciate its rich history and fascinating ecology.

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Rabbit Thoughts
by Susan Leach
Anyone who has read Watership Down knows that rabbits can think. They have memories and can plan. Some are not quite as bright as others. Early yesterday morning I was walking and noticing the rabbits grazing alongside the road. They fled into the grass and brush as I approached. Then suddenly I spied this dainty little being behind a clump of grass right in the middle of the road. I immediately stood stock still. As you know, standing still makes you invisible. I waited until she reached for a bit and ever so slowly and silently I moved forward. I repeated this a few times more. And there she was! Only about fifteen feet away. Very close for a wild rabbit. I could see her nose twitching as she tasted the air. There was no wind and she didn’t sense danger. I stood perfectly still measuring my breathing and wondering why her silky, petal shaped ears didn’t hear my heart beating. She browsed and shuffled and scratched and took another bite. I watched her little jaw move sideways, chewing the tough grass. Small she was. An adolescent. Rabbits are not one shade of gray! She had shadings of gray, ivory, russet, sienna, and the pink of the innermost part of her beautiful ears.
Then she took a few hops and began her dance. Leaping high into the air she landed facing the other direction. She pranced and plied and took a bow. Her slender legs were a soft rosy color and her paws were smaller than my thumb. She leapt again and wildly ran and darted, all around me. Hesitated not five feet from me as if waiting for applause.
“All good things come to those who wait.” I had always thought that was for those who didn’t want to work for what they wanted or take any initiative. This little joyful rabbit was teaching me about being still. Letting joy happen around me. She celebrated the morning with leaps and bounds all within a small radius of me. She paused behind me, and I felt huge as I slowly turned, trying to see her sideways from my forward-looking eyes. Rabbits have eyes on the sides of their heads so they can see sideways. There she was, silhouetted sideways. Looking at me as I was looking at her. She sat and I stood. I knew the dance was over.
© 2005 Susan Leach

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Starlings
by Don Boucher
I have an uncommon bias: I like starlings. Although I will not expect to convince you of the same sentiment, I would like to at least convince you that their biology is intriguing. I would also like to point out to the birder trying to learn bird sounds that knowing the starling is imperative. I have to admit that it would not break my heart if the North American starling population were to substantially decrease. The starling is native to Eurasia, and in Britain it’s called the Common Starling because there are other, less common starling species. Its scientific name Sturnus vulgaris translates to “Common Starling.” On Vancouver Island, B.C., there is small population of another starling species called the Crested Myna. Otherwise, our “European Starling” is our only starling. We like to curse the reckless Eugene Schieffelin. He released starlings in New York in the late 19th century only because the starling was mentioned in a Shakespeare play. It should be noted that starlings have followed the wake of human development and hardly a starling can be found in pristine wilderness. That being stated, it is not the aim of this newsletter to dwell on starling population control methods, we’re here to appreciate and learn.

The Song of the Starling
Starlings are clever, gregarious and creatively vociferous birds. While most bird species’ songs are executed with melody, clarity and distinctive patterns, the starling chooses, quantity, complexity and length. A starling may sing for hours. Europeans have historically cherished this bird for its ability to mimic. Birders are puzzled, frustrated, delighted, or all of the above by the starling’s endless repertoire. I’ve heard them imitate many species, too many to list here. Commonly they imitate the Western Meadowlark, Killdeer, Golden-crowned Sparrow, Red-tailed Hawk and California Quail. Sometimes it’s a challenge to distinguish actual mimicry or accidental sounds which seem familiar. Nevertheless, the starling always gives itself away with its unique clicks, trills and wolf whistle.
Starling flocks always have vigilant sentinels, on prominent perches, to watch out for predators. Starlings are often the first to give the alarm call when a Sharp-shinned Hawk, Merlin or other predator arrives on the scene. Pay attention to starlings; they can warn you of any predator activity.

The Glossy Starry Sky
In summer or in winter, take a good look at an adult starling. In summer, they are glossy and iridescent with a few tiny white spots. In winter, they are charcoal-colored with many amber and white feather tips. Juveniles are dull gray without any spots. The adult starling’s summer plumage looks fresh, clean and bright, but that’s deceptive. In reality, what you’re seeing is a tattered, worn-out winter coat. When the starling molts in the fall, the ends of these new feathers cover up the glossy, iridescent bases. By spring, the tips have worn off, exposing the colors beneath. This type of molting is common among native songbirds too. By the time breeding season starts, the starling’s bill changes to bright yellow. Starling males and females are virtually identical except that the female has a faint ring around the iris, but you might need to have the bird in hand to see this.

Gapers
Starlings are very successful at gleaning insects and other tiny critters from lawns and fields. Starlings have jaws unique among vertebrates. Most mammals, reptiles or birds can shut their jaws with much more force than they can open them. A starling is different because it has extra power to open its bill. The advantage a starling has over a robin or a crow is that it can punch its bill into the sod, spread it open with its bill, rotate its eyes forward to peek into the hole, and find food that other birds miss. This ability is known as gaping. Even though starlings steal crops from farmers, they also help farmers from insect outbreaks by eating up pests which would otherwise stay hidden in the soil. The unrelated native blackbirds have this gaping capability in varying degrees. Willamette Valley blackbirds include the Red-winged Blackbird, Brewer’s Blackbird, Brown-headed Cowbird and two other species which aren’t black, the Western Meadowlark and Bullock’s Oriole.
Starlings are fun to watch, waddling in pastures, poking around fastidiously. Just sit and listen to a starling sing someday; you’ll be impressed!

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2005 Fall: V3 #3

Fall Mushrooms
by Christina Calkins and Steve Hiebert
The Pacific Golden Chanterelle is a colorful mushroom that grows in Douglas-fir forests. It is sought out for its edibility and delicate flavor.Mushrooms are the flowers of autumn in the fungi kingdom, especially here in the Pacific Northwest. Most of the life of a fungus is spent growing underground or in other organic material as an intricate web of fine threads known as mycelium. The mushroom is the reproductive structure or “fruit” of the mycelium that comes up to spread spores by wind or animals. Mushrooms can be very beneficial to their environments. Some replenish the soil by breaking down complex organic matter, while others form beneficial relationships with roots of plants in which nutrients are exchanged. So when the temperature starts dipping and the rain starts falling, head out and look for mushrooms popping up.
There are many shapes, sizes, and colors of mushrooms. A good field guide will help you to identify the mushrooms you collect (recommended: Mushrooms Demystified, David Arora). Even better than a field guide would be someone who can identify mushrooms species firsthand, especially when learning edible mushrooms. Mushroom hunting is a fun and challenging activity.

Here are some tips on how to get started.
Equipment is minimal: A basket or bucket to collect into, waxed paper or waxed paper bags (for separating and protecting different species), a knife for digging up mushrooms (it is important to collect the whole mushroom to identify it), and a field guide. Mushrooms can be identified by some of their key characteristics, such as whether they have gills or pores, if the cap is dry or viscid, or how the stalk breaks. There are some mushrooms can only be identified by the color of the spores. Try making a spore print with a mushroom you collect by placing it gill side down on a piece of white paper and covering it with a glass or bowl. Within several hours or overnight a spore print should develop showing the color of the spores.
When collecting mushrooms you may find some that appear good to eat. While there certainly are good edible mushrooms, it is of the utmost importance to positively identify a mushroom before you eat it. There are many mushrooms that have lookalikes and can be hard to identify. Rule of thumb: when in doubt – throw it out! It is advisable to collect an edible mushroom several times and have it positively identified by an expert before eating it.
Explore about your neighborhood this fall and take a closer look into the world of fungi. You will find it a lot of fun learning the different types of mushrooms. Expand your knowledge by going on a mushroom foray with an expert, or go to a mushroom show and see the fabulous displays of fungi identified for you. If you find yourself looking for other people who share a common interest in and appreciation for the Kingdom Fungi, contact the Cascade Mycological Society based in Eugene. This group provides opportunities to study fungi identification and ecology, aid in the conservation of fungi, learn about health and safety in the gathering and consumption of edible fungi, and lots of fun! Check out Cascade Mycological Society events online at
www.cascademyco.org.

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Gray Digger
The Willamette Valley’s Only Ground Squirrel
People who have lived their whole lives in these parts call them Gray Diggers, but most field guides refer to the species as the California Ground Squirrel. Their scientific name Spermophilus beecheyi so some folks also call them “Beechey” Squirrels. Spermophilus means “seed lover” and beecheyi is named for Frederick William Beechey, a sea captain who explored Northern California in 1826-28. Call them what you like. I like “Gray Digger” because it is a folksy, local term. They range from Baja California up to south-central Washington.
Unlike other ground squirrels, they have prominent ears and a long furry tail which makes them look like a tree squirrel. The Gray Digger’s coat is light brown and gray and dappled with lighter spots on the back and hind quarters. There is a distinctive light gray patch which saddles the shoulders. It has a broken white ring around a large dark eye. The tips of the ears have small, dark tufts of fur.
The Gray Digger’s habitat is open ground in oak savannas, meadows, open forest or hillsides that are grassy or rocky. They nest and sleep in burrows. Burrows are horizontal into a hillside or more vertical into flat ground and may be from 5 to 30 feet long. A burrow system has several entry holes and chambers for hibernation, summer sleeping, food storage and other purposes. Squirrels may be solitary or live in loose colonies with interconnecting burrows. While in colonies, each individual has its own established territory and typically uses its own entry holes and sleeping chamber. These squirrels are neither strongly communal nor territorial. Communal living tends to occur near concentrated food sources.
Grounds Squirrels hibernate in winter and in summer they may achieve a similar sleep-like state called estivation. Willamette Valley Gray Diggers may wait out the heat in their burrows and sleep a lot during our blazing August days, but they tend not to estivate. Our summers are not severely hot or long but Gray Diggers and other ground squirrel species estivate in hotter and more arid regions. They start hibernation in late fall and come out of hibernation in February. During hibernation, they may briefly wake to eat food from storage chambers and even use special bathroom-like chambers. They eat all kinds of seeds and they love nuts such as hazelnuts or acorns. They also eat green vegetation and insects.
Look for Gray Diggers in their preferred open country habitat as described above. They are common in the country but are locally common in urban areas. Some city parks are ideal but also look for empty lots, rocky hillsides or dry riverbanks unsuitable for development. My favorite spots are Avery Park in Corvallis and the rocky south slope of Pigeon Butte at Finley National Wildlife Refuge near Bellfountain (south of Corvallis.)

Willamette Valley Native Ground Squirrels, Tree Squirrels and Chipmunks
Families Genera Species Characteristics
Ground Squirrels Spermophilus Gray Digger
S. beecheyi
Burrowers, cheek pouches, hibernation and/or estivation. Somewhat communal.
Tree Squirrels Sciurus & Tamiasciurus Western Gray Squirrel
S. griseus
Douglas Squirrel
T. douglasii
Nests in trees, no hibernation or estivation, no cheek pouches, special foot and ankle adaptations for climbing. Long and fluffy tail.
Chipmunks Tamias Townsend’s Chipmunk
T. townsendii
Burrowers, cheek pouches, hibernation, distinctive stripe pattern on head among all species. Generally smaller than tree or ground squirrels. Non-territorial.


Suggested Field Guides
Squirrels of the West. By Tamara Hartson. 1999 Lone Pine Publishing
Mammals of the Pacific Northwest: From the Coast to the High Cascades. By Chris Maser. 1998 Oregon State University Press.
Mammals of North America. By Nora Bowers, Rick Bowers & Ken Kaufman. 2004 Houghton Mifflin Company.

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2005 Summer: V3 #2

Blackberries—Worth a closer look
by Lisa Millbank. Illustrations and photos by Lisa Millbank
The blackberries are members of the rose family. We have three species in the Willamette Valley: one native and two Eurasian species. The berries are actually clusters of tiny individual fruits called drupelets, collectively known as an aggregate fruit. Blackberries contain a white core (the receptacle) within each berry, which differentiates them from the hollow raspberries. And as every berry picker knows, blackberries are all armed with sharp thorns.
Dewberry Rubus ursinus
In open areas and along roadsides, such as in McDonald Forest, you can often find large, sprawling clusters of this native blackberry. Its prickly stems trail over the ground or sometimes hang over other shrubs and lower limbs of trees. I have often returned to a spot where I had seen these plants covered in white flowers, expecting loads of summer berries. But in this species, male and female flowers are on separate plants, and often those promising patches were only male plants producing pollen but no fruit. The female flowers’ petals are small and round, the males’ are elongated. There are three dark green leaflets. The berries are shiny black, tart, and richly flavorful.

Himalayan Blackberry Rubus armeniacus (formerly Rubus discolor or Rubus procerus)
This is the most common and familiar species of blackberry in the Willamette Valley. This Armenian species forms mounds that often approach ten feet in height, with the new growth draping over a mass of woody, thorny, dead brambles accumulated over many years. The flowers are white to light pink, and the five leaflets are whitish and fuzzy underneath. In our area these shrubs are more or less evergreen, with many of the leaves retained through the winter months.
Classed as a noxious weed in Oregon, this species is adaptable and successful. It forms dense thickets, generally in the wake of human disturbance, and smothers native shrubs and herbs.
Evergreen Blackberry Rubus lacinatus
A locally common species, this blackberry is unique in its leaf characteristics. It’s generally similar to the Himalayan Blackberry, but is entirely evergreen, with deeply cut leaflets showing greenish undersides. The flowers have incised petals, echoing the features of the leaves. The Evergreen Blackberry escaped from cultivation, and some blackberry gourmets prefer the flavor of these berries to the Himalayan.

Scratches on the hands and forearms often identify blackberry pickers! Countless sharp thorns protect the plants, and if you happen to be a small animal, you can use this characteristic to your advantage. In places such as Bald Hill Park, you can find thickets of Himalayan blackberries with rabbit runs along the margins. Eastern Cottontails and our small native Brush Rabbits find refuge in the impenetrable depths of the arching, thorny canes of years past. You can hear Spotted Towhees scratch in decomposing leaves deep within the tangle, and Song Sparrows guard their thicket with sharp calls. In the winter, these birds are joined by White-crowned, Golden-crowned, and Fox Sparrows, all foraging in busy mixed flocks. White-throated and Lincoln’s Sparrows are sometimes present. When frightened, the birds disappear into the inaccessible brambles until they can peer out and see that the threat has passed.
Almost every fruit- or seed-eating bird enjoys blackberries. The evidence is obvious in late summer when purple, seedy droppings adorn newly-washed cars. Mammals such as rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks feed on the berries and shoots. Raccoons and Red and Gray Foxes like a meal of berries when they are abundant, and you may find their seed-packed scat along footpaths.
Bees, butterflies, and certain flies are drawn to blackberry bushes for nectar from the abundant flowers. Other insects come to eat the foliage or to suck juices from the plant.
The native Dewberry was a valuable and favorite food for the Northwest coastal people. In July they gathered the berries and enjoyed them fresh, cooked them into a sauce, or dried them for later use. The Dewberry’s leaves and roots yield a tea that was used for all kinds of ailments, from stomach problems to sore throats and fevers. People made a poultice of the leaves for wounds, as the tannins within the leaves act as an astringent.
Abundant Himalayan or Evergreen Blackberries make delicious pies, jams, sauces, juice, baked goods, and smoothies. A Dewberry dessert would be quite a fancy treat but more effort to gather. All of the blackberries are high in ellagic acid and other phytochemicals – powerful cancer-fighting substances. They are an excellent source of vitamin C, vitamin K, manganese, and fiber. The very young, tender shoots can be eaten fresh in a salad. The leaves of all species may be boiled into a pleasant tea, and in Europe, this tea is prescribed for minor mouth and throat pain.
The introduced blackberries are unquestionably invasive, weedy species. Even the Dewberry will opportunistically spread throughout a clearing or extend its prickly stems over trails. Like most weeds, the Eurasian blackberries establish themselves mainly in areas that have already suffered human disturbance to the natural plant community. They are so well established that there’s little chance that they will ever be eradicated, despite some aggressive control measures. Blackberries provide a good deal of food and shelter for wildlife in exchange for their thorny ubiquity. And many of us berry lovers, too, would feel it just wasn’t summer without purple-stained fingers and the fragrance of berries on the breeze. It seems reasonable to admit defeat and enjoy the summer bounty of free, nutritious, abundant, delicious fruit.
Suggested field guides
Northwest Weeds. By Ronald J. Taylor. 1990 Mountain Press Publishing Company
Plants of the Pacific Northwest. By Jim Pojar and Andy MacKinnon. 1994 Lone Pine Publishing

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Northwestern Fence Lizard
Sceloporus occidentalis occidentalis
A subspecies of the Western Fence Lizard. It is brownish-gray to sooty gray. Pointy, keeled scales on back. The back and tail have wavy rows of double “v” spots (more like “»”) of white or blue. It does not have well defined stripes.
Up to 3½ in. from the snout to the base of the tail; up to 7 in. to the end of the tail.
Males have an iridescent blue patch on the throat and sides of the belly. Females have pale, smaller blue belly patches and in some cases, no blue patches at all. Females also have fewer blue spots on the back and tail.

Habitat
Foothills (especially the south side of hills), rocky areas, oak savanna, open second growth forests, forest clearings and logged areas. Absent from shady, dense forests and flat valley floors.

The Western Fence Lizard ranges throughout the west. It is the most commonly seen lizard in the Northwest. There are six subspecies and in Oregon there are two. In the Willamette Valley we only have one subspecies, referred to as the Northwest Fence Lizard. Males have blue patches on the throat and belly. They defend their territory by flashing these color spots as they do their “push ups,” with throat puffing and contracting the sides of the body.
They’re easy to observe—just find their preferred habitat and wait. After they’ve scurried away from your initial arrival, within five minutes they’ll come back out and go about their business.
My favorite spot is on the south side of Pigeon Butte at Finley National Wildlife Refuge in Benton County. There is an old rock quarry there and many lizards. They are common and you can find them in any sunny spot where there are rocks, fence posts or forest openings. The best places are rocky open areas on south-facing slopes. They are good climbers and they like to perch to sun themselves. You will not find them in damp, dark forests or flat, featureless fields.
Life cycle
From May to early July eggs are laid (8-9 is typical) in rock crevices, log cavities or loosely buried in moist soil. Hatchlings emerge in late August through September. They hibernate during the cold months and emerge in early March (or a late winter warm spell), with males emerging earliest.
Three other species of lizard occur here—the Northern Alligator Lizard, the Southern Alligator Lizard and the Western Skink. These species have relatively short legs as compared to our fence lizard and they run with a swimming or snake-like motion. Fence lizards have longer legs and toes, scurry along, and are adept at climbing. The Western Skink has well defined stripes along its body and sometimes a blue tail. The alligator lizard species can be nearly twice the size of our fence lizards and have square-shaped scales.
Suggested field guides
Reptiles of the Northwest—California to Alaska, Rockies to the Coast. By Alan St. John. 2002 Lone Pine Publishing
Reptiles of Washington and Oregon. By R.M. Storm and R.P. Leonard. 1995 Seattle Audubon Society

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2005 Spring: V3 #1

Wild Plant Gathering
Ethics and Precautions
Some conservationists are critical of those who gather wild plants and there are good reasons. Some edible plant species are scarce and gathering them would jeopardize their survival as a species, or at the very least the local population could be threatened. Even in cases when the gathered plant is abundant, care should be taken as to not impact other plants that could be scarce. Another risk is to impact animals, birds, insects and their nests or eggs. A general way to deal with this dilemma is to be a good naturalist, be observant, tread lightly and when in doubt, leave it alone.
Many people are afraid of wild plants. While it’s wise not to touch it or eat it if you don’t know what it is, don’t get the idea that there are all these dangerous plants out there. Most plants are harmless, some require caution but can be used for medicine or in small quantities, and just a few are deadly. You don’t need to be a botanical expert to identify and use a plant. Theoretically, all you need to know is one edible plant to get started. You must know that one plant well. You should positively recognize three or more characteristic features of that plant such as flower color, leaf shape, leaf pattern, texture, hairiness, odor, size range and anything else listed by field guides. What about the hundreds of species of plants you might encounter? There are plenty of field guide resources on the subject. When I identify a plant for the first time, it is very common for me to use two or more field guides to cross reference my notes. For collecting plants for consumption, I regularly use the following field guides.

Edible Wild Plants, Eastern and Central North America
Peterson’s Field Guides
By Lee Allen Peterson, Houghton Mifflin Company
Even though this is not a western regional guide, it is useful because I tend to focus on weedy plants, most of which are common throughout North America. This covers edible plants and some toxic ones too.

Wild Edible Plants of the Western United States
By Donald R. Kirk, Naturegraph Publishers
I found this as a used book and I believe it is out of print. I like the guide but there are no color illustrations.

Venomous Animals & Poisonous Plants
Peterson’s Field Guides
By Steven Foster and Roger Caras, Houghton Mifflin Company
This is a collection of most any dangerous wild thing you can encounter. This guide can keep you out of trouble.


Medicinal Plants
There’s no dividing line between edible, medicinal and toxic plants. For example, tomatoes, potatoes, rhubarb and cherry trees are toxic plants. The key is to eat the part of the plant that isn’t toxic or to consume the plant in a safe quantity. One field guide may list a plant as toxic while another may list it as medicinal. Around here, there are more safe wild plants than deadly toxic. I feel more at ease using plants that are listed as entirely safe to eat. With medicinal plants, I am much more cautious and experiment with minute quantities before using them in full doses. As always, I make sure I know for certain that I’ve identified the plant.

Northwest Weeds, The Ugly and Beautiful Villains of Fields, Gardens, and Roadsides
By Ronald J. Taylor, Mountain Press Publishing
It is a concise photographic guide and regionally specific.
Weeds—A Golden Guide
By Alexander C. Martin, Golden Press®
An inexpensive, pocket-sized book which is general to North America.


Pollution
Another similar concern is contaminated soil or water, or plants that may accumulate contaminated residues on their surfaces such as pesticides, herbicides, car exhaust or industrial emissions. Before you collect a plant, understand the place it lives well.


Weeds
I use the term “weed,” but I don’t like the negative connotation of it. To me, wildflowers are just wildflowers. Some plant species (a few are native) are nevertheless absurdly abundant, spread quickly and cause lots of trouble for farmers, gardeners and for those who conduct native habitat restoration. Given the proper precautions, I encourage people to try edible weeds. This keeps you away from the ethical issues of endangering rare plants. I use the following field guides to help identify and decide if a plant is a weed.

Camas is a native plant. The bulbs were commonly used as food by the Kalapuya. I often avoid harvesting it because I feel it is too precious and digging for the bulb is very disruptive to the soil. In such cases as with camas, one must make a thorough assessment of abundance and the impact of harvesting.



When you eat or use a plant in some way, you remember it better than if you just looked at it. Indigenous tribes in remote areas know their plants better than most botanists. Our ancestors had known their plants this well for thousands of years. That’s because they use(d) the plants daily. When you use a plant, you make a deeper, physical connection and you will likely identify it immediately next time you see it. It also gives you a solid reference to compare other plants. You might even help a gardener get rid of some weeds! ó

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Wild Mustard
Brassica campestris
Clasping leaves. Basal leaves wide and deeply lobed, slender leaves occur mostly where stems branch. Leaf surfaces can be bumpy with sparse bristles. Look in fields for the clusters of yellow flowers. Plants will grow most often in dense clusters or sometimes alone.
Flowers: 1/4 to 3/8 in. (7-10 mm), yellow and four petals. 6 stamens, 4 long and 2 short Flower heads are terminal with buds on top and slender, mature seed pods below

Many weeds are edible, some are just as good as anything purchased in the grocery produce section. Often these wild plants are packed with vitamins and nutrients. One of my favorites is Wild Mustard. The entire plant, roots, stem, leaves, flowers and seeds can be used for food. It is the naturalized descendant of garden plants. It is very closely related to cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower and kale.
Wild Mustard leaves taste like kale and the flowers (especially the bud clusters) taste like broccoli. If you eat them fresh, you will discover a hot radish bite after a certain quantity is consumed. That spiciness is variable from plant to plant and diminishes greatly after cooking. Cook it like any other vegetable. You can steam, stir fry or cook Wild Mustard in soup. The stems and lower leaves can become tough as the plant grows taller. Young plants or plants growing in moist soil are best. The small roots can be used like turnips. The seeds can be crushed and used just as mustard seasoning, although I find gathering the seeds tedious.
In our area, there isn’t any dangerous plant which you might confuse Wild Mustard with. Similar species in the same genus and Wild Radish are all edible but their palatability is variable. Wild Mustard will grow where there is no control of insect pests. The aphids, caterpillars, spiders, scale insects and others which are found on the plant are mostly edible but can taste bad. Don’t worry yourself over a few bugs. A few bugs here and there might indicate a lack of pesticides. Be nice though, in the field, give the plant a firm shaking to dislodge any little critters so that they may find a new home in the habitat in which they live. When you get home, wash what you’ve gathered just like produce (even if there is no pesticide residue, there may be natural grit from the soil).

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Pacific Chorus Frog
The Ribbit Heard Around the World
Our most common frog, the Pacific Chorus Frog, is also native to our region. Their range extends from British Columbia to Baja California and inland as far as the Rockies. While doing some research on our Pacific Chorus Frog (also known as the Pacific Tree Frog), each text mentioned how Hollywood films use (and often misuse) the sound of the Pacific Chorus Frog in movies. Anytime a chorus of frogs was needed in a sound track, they would use frog sounds recorded from California. As a birder, I’m no stranger to how nature sounds are misused in movies. In movies, one can hear House Wrens and Blue Jays (unique to North America) in Europe and Laughing Kookaburras (native to Australia) in African jungles. Some Hollywood filmmakers have inadvertently introduced the sound of our frog to the world because they assumed all frogs go “ribbit.” They don’t!
Ribbit!
The Pacific Chorus Frog’s spring call is the classic “ribbit”. It will also make a single-syllable call which is softer and more “croaky,” which you may hear any time of the year. You cannot confuse it with any other frog in our area. Imported Bull Frogs are common in some areas but they make a booming sound. The Red-legged Frog, a native, makes a very soft sound from underwater and I’ve never noticed it.
You can hear a sample of the Pacific Chorus Frog online at: www.neighborhood-naturalist.com
Where are Pacific Chorus Frogs?
They are very common and occur almost anywhere, even away from water sources, but being frogs, they require relatively moist conditions. They need to breed in shallow, vegetated wetlands. Breeding season may begin as early as February and extend into June. Tadpoles can develop into frogs before seasonal marshes dry up in summer. In Corvallis: Jackson-Frazier Wetland or the west end of Willamette Park. Philomath: Marys River Park. Albany: Simpson Park or Periwinkle Park.
Frog Night, April 10, Sunday
We’ll carpool to Bruce Road, just outside of Finley National Wildlife Refuge. There are millions of frogs in a deafening chorus. We’ll arrive just before sunset to listen to frogs and observe any other wildlife we may encounter. RSVP, see contact information on back page.

Pacific Chorus Frog
Pseudacris regillis
Tiny, up to 1 ¾ in. from nose to rear. Black mask extending from nostrils to shoulder. Most have a mottled pattern to some degree and it’s variable. In which case there is a “Y” pattern on the top of the head between the eyes. The toes have rounded toe pads and webbing is minimal.

Amphibian “Chameleon”
Green, tan, bronze, or anything in between. Most often I’ve seen our frogs as a bright green color. They have the ability to change color based on their surroundings. I’ve heard reports of them changing from a dark, sooty green, while under cover, and changing to bright green in as little as 10 minutes after hopping onto green grass. They are pale to white underneath and males have a dark or gray throat.

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2004-05 Winter: V2 #4

Rough-skinned Newt
Taricha granulosa

Adults are up to 7¾ in., including tail. Dark brown or orange-brown on top and orange to orange-yellow on the underside. Their skin is rough and relatively dry compared to other local salamanders.

A newt is a kind of salamander. The common name “newt” is directly represented scientifically as the family Salamandridae. In the Willamette Valley, and nearby forests, there are four salamander families represented by nine species, five of which are common (see chart on next page). Of the five common salamanders, the one you are most likely familiar is the Rough-skinned Newt. This is the only newt in our area.


Deadly toxic, not very dangerous
Although a single Rough-skinned Newt has enough
toxin to kill an adult human, the only conditions which will put you at risk are to eat one, or excessively handle one (or more) and put your fingers in your mouth. Hand washing is sufficient to remove any toxin.
In last summer’s issue (2004, v2 #2), the Common Garter Snake was featured. This snake is the only natural predator of the Rough-skinned Newt and is resistant to, but not unaffected by, the toxin. The newt contains tetrodotoxin in granular glands in its skin which gives it the rough skin. Tetrodotoxin is a neurotoxin, the same compound used by the Puffer Fish, and has paralyzing effects which can lead to cardiac arrest. The Common Garter Snake will become lethargic after eating a newt. This could put the snake at risk from its own predators since speed, not venom, is the snake’s defense. Thus, the snake will only depend on this less desirable meal during hard times. For the snake, the toxin wear off in a couple days and life goes on as usual.
Meanwhile, the newt leads a rather safe lifestyle (aside from road kill). The newt is our only toxic salamander which is why you are most likely to find it than any other. Not needing to hide or be quick, the newt can be found out in the open, during broad daylight, whereas other salamanders inhabit dark forest leaf litter and are active chiefly at night.
Looking for newts
Less dependent on water, Rough-skinned Newts range broadly but are still found in or near moist areas. Forested areas are best and our dry summers will cause newts to retreat to moist areas.
During breeding season, March–May, they are found in or near ponds, lakes and slow-moving water. The adults change to an aquatic state at this time and can be seen in the water.
Where?
In Corvallis: Walnut Park and Bald Hill Park are particularly good. Also check in Willamette Park or Avery Park. In Albany: Simpson Park (see Winter issue 2003, v1 #4). Outside Corvallis: Finley NWR, E.E. Wilson Wildlife Area, Fitton Green Natural Area and Beazell Memorial Forest.
The larva of the Rough-skinned Newt is aquatic, brown, has external gills and is characterized by light spots on either side of its body.
The Rough-skinned Newt will occasionally present this defense posture when disturbed. Showing its bright underside has the effect of warning predators of its toxic threat.
Unlike reptiles, birds and mammals, the newt has no diaphragm, so you will not see its chest cavity rising. Instead, its throat pulses to draw air through its lungs.

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Willamette Valley Salamanders

Mole Salamanders
Family Ambystomatidae
• Long-toed Salamander
• Northwestern Salamander*

Giant Salamanders
Family Dicamptodontidae
• Pacific Giant Salamander

Torrent Salamanders
Family Rhyacotritonidae
• Southern Torrent Salamander*

Newts
Family Salamandridae
• Rough-skinned Newt*

Lungless Salamanders
Family Plethodontidae
• Dunn’s Salamander
• Western Red-backed Salamander*
• Ensatina*
• Clouded Salamander

* more common

Ensatina
Ensatina eschscholtztii

Up to 4¼ total length. Red-brown, orange-brown, brown or tan overall. It has rib-like lines called costal grooves along the sides of its body.Similar to some lizards, the Ensatina’s tail can break off if attacked. This does not harm the Ensatina and the tail can grow back. This serves as a diversion for the Ensatina to escape. In the above illustration, see the narrow spot at the base of the tail.
Where to find the Ensatina
Although almost ubiquitous, they prefer woody debris and covered areas and are seldom out in the open. My best success in finding them is when I was mushroom hunting this fall. I was poking around shady forest debris, ferns and brush so my chances for Ensatina encounters were increased, albeit incidentally.

Lungless Ensatina
The Ensatina is another common salamander in our region. Like most salamanders (and unlike the Rough-skinned Newt), it has moist, slippery skin. It also has costal grooves along the side of its body believed to help it absorb oxygen. Many amphibians have gills as larvae, and a few aquatic species have them as adults. The adult Ensatina, has no lungs or gills and must absorb oxygen through the skin.

Resource: Leonard, Brown, Jones, McAllister and Storm. 1993. Amphibians of Washington and Oregon. Seattle, WA: Seattle Audubon Society


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Winter

She’s moving toward the slow time of sustenance and sleep;
the earth is turning inward as heaven’s heat recedes.
She’s tending to the deep fire that’s hidden underneath
the many lives her heart sustained as leaf and fruit and seed.
And now the time for dreaming has come again at last,
the nights when present moment’s life must mellow into past,
when all that we have felt as life is buried and decays
into the hours of autumn; they slowly fade away.
And we are left with winter, the turning of the tide,
the crone who knows that all we have is what we hold inside.
She’s gathering the harvest. The circle is complete,
only when the life she gives returns and is received.

-Beth Russell

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2004 Fall: V2 #3

Bathroom Spider
The Long-legged Cellar Spider is common in houses, cellars and often in bathrooms.
Other common names for this spider are Vibrating Spider or Daddy Longlegs. The Harvestman is more commonly called Daddy Longlegs (see illustration below) but it is very different than this spider. For years, I’ve used the term Bathroom Spider because I was ignorant of its most widespread name, Long-legged Cellar Spider.
Diet
They prefer to hang upside-down from a loosely organized, almost invisible web. Any prey which trips its web will be attacked, provided it is of the appropriate size. Insects, spiders and even their own kind are eaten.
In seasons when the general insect population is at its lowest, the spider has to move through the house on hunting expeditions. On such occasions, the long legs of the spider prove their advantage. The spider looks for other webs and presents itself as prey. It ticks on the web with one of its long legs. Before the alarmed spider in the web can attack, the Long-legged Cellar Spider, with the element of surprise on its side, overcomes the alarmed spider. If there is enough insect prey, the Long-legged Cellar Spider won’t resort hunting spiders or cannibalism.
Harmless
The fangs are too small to penetrate human skin and the venom is too weak to cause any significant effect. If you can tolerate a few in your house, they may reduce the number of unwanted insects. I’ve had a problem with grain moths getting in my food pantry. The Long-legged Cellar Spiders in my house are keeping the moth population in check.
Movers and Shakers
When disturbed or threatened, they vibrate in their web to scare off the enemy. Hence the common name of
Vibrating Spider.

Long-legged Cellar Spider
Pholcus phalangioides
A common household spider found in North America and Europe. The body is typically ¼ to ½ inch with the relaxed legs extending to about 2½ inches.

The other Daddy Longlegs
The Harvestman is not at all like the Long-legged Cellar Spider. It’s not even a spider. Although it is an arachnid, it has no venom, cannot produce silk, has no distinguishable head, and lives outside in your garden.

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Stewart Lake at HP
by Joan Newhouse
Stewart Lake, the lake at the northwest corner of the HP campus here in Corvallis, is not what I expected a lake on the site of a high-tech firm to be. I’d heard about the lake before I started working at HP. A friend had mentioned taking her kids there to feed the ducks. I imagined a cement-lined pond, long sweeps of evenly-mown grass, Mallards, and that’s about it.
In fact, Stewart Lake seems to my eyes to be as diverse and beautiful a place as any in Corvallis. My husband, who works at the HP site as well, joins me nearly every day for a lunchtime stroll around the lake. Sometimes we carry binoculars; sometimes we don’t. This last winter, I learned more about ducks than I had learned in all the previous years of my life. I fell in love with the call of the American Wigeon and the large comical bill of the Northern Shoveler. I learned the difference between the Lesser Scaup and The Ring-Necked Duck, and feasted my eyes on the rich cinnamon color of the Canvasback duck. I got to know American Coots better than I might have thought I wanted to, and saw a few Wood Ducks, too. The two white-headed ducks—the Hooded Mergansers and Buffleheads—were plentiful this last winter. The sleek Common Merganser was an occasional visitor. One day last year, I saw something that looked like the head and neck of a bird sticking out of the water. The neck slowly submerged until only the head was visible above the water, and then, blip, the head disappeared. And thus began my education about the Pied-billed Grebe.
During our walk on a midsummer’s day, we saw a Downy Woodpecker fly out from a snag at the edge of the pond and fly in circles as if it were catching flying insects, then return to the snag. “Must have babies in the snag,” we deduced. Last week we saw a baby coot with red head-feathers greeting a parent at the nest. We watched numerous mallard families during May and June. The Mallard families usually start out with ten or so ducklings, then gradually thin to families of four or five ducklings with Mom. One Mallard mom, who we found to be rather inattentive, worked her way down to one tenacious duckling. Swallows swoop over the pond and return to their nest boxes, twelve or so of which are posted around the pond. Occasionally an Osprey sits on the top of a tree and watches the pond. We wonder if this is one of the parents from the nest box at the south end of the site.
During the early spring, we see and hear what must be hundreds of Yellow-rumped Warblers in the tree tops. Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Cedar Waxwings, Bushtits, Song Sparrows, Black-capped Chickadees, Purple Finches, Belted Kingfishers, Double-crested Cormorants, Downy Woodpeckers, and Northern Flickers are all common at the lake and we see some of these species daily, depending on the season. I saw my first Brown Creeper at Stewart Lake.
There is a log at the north end of the pond that we are likely to see one or two turtles basking on if we pay attention on a warm day. (We hear they aren’t a native species.) Near the view of the turtle log is the spot where I’ll usually scare a frog into the pond if I walk close to the edge. There are resident beaver, as the downed trees chewed to a pinnacle attest. This time of the year, the edges of the pond teem with blue and red and black dragonflies. Western Tiger Swallowtails and Cabbage White butterflies flit from flower to flower. The Cinnabar Moth larvae munch on Tansy Ragweed flowers. If we pay close attention in the spring, we’ll see the bass guarding their rock-lined nests close to shore at the west side of the pond.
Oregon Ash and Oregon White Oak are common trees around the pond. I am a beginner at plant identification, but I can’t miss the Snowberries, the wild rose, the Fawn Lilies and Camas in the spring, the yellow violets and trillium. I can’t help but wonder why these native plants are here. Did someone take the time and trouble to transplant snowberries and fawn lilies around the HP pond, or has this land really been left undisturbed since the site was developed and grass was seeded right down to within ten or twenty yards of the pond?
The characteristic of Stewart Lake that makes it most precious to my husband and me is, of course, the fact that we have visited it almost every weekday for the last two years. It is an education to pay close attention to any natural place for an extended period of time. Those who do not work at HP may not realize that Stewart Lake is on land that is outside of HP’s security fence; hence, any member of the public may visit it without having anything to do with HP security guards or gates. To get to Stewart Lake, turn into HP from Circle Blvd at the stoplight. Follow the signs that say “Visitor Parking” and “Lobby.” Park in the visitor parking area and follow the sound of the ducks.

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Food Guide for Common Willamette Valley Yard Birds

species

preferred wild foods

feeder foods

feeder style

location

seasons

Mourning Dove

grain crops, thistle, mustard, tarweed & other wild seeds

sunflower1, bread, nuts, cracked corn, thistle & nyjer

platform & ground

countryside, edges of town & parks

all year

Rock Pigeon

grain crops, seeds & berries

sunflower, bread, nuts, cracked corn & millet

platform & ground

agricultural & urban

all year

Rufous Hummingbird

flower nectar, small insects, sapsucker wells in tree bark*

sugar water

nectar dispenser

all

spring, summer

Northern Flicker

ants, wood-boring larvae, other insects, acorns & poison oak

suet, fruit, nuts, sunflower & suet

platform, ground & suet cage

all

all year

Downy Woodpecker

wood-boring larvae, ants, other insects, poison oak & acorns

suet, fruit, nuts, sunflower & suet

platform, hopper **, tube & suet cage

all

all year

Western Scrub Jay

insects, bird eggs & chicks, acorns, pine seed, fruit & grain crops

nuts, suet, fruit & sunflower

platform, hopper & suet cage

all, less common in forests

all year

Steller’s Jay

insects, bird eggs & chicks, fruit & acorns

Nuts, suet, fruit & sunflower

platform, hopper & suet cage

all, most common in forests

all year

Black-capped Chickadee

small insects, insect eggs & seeds

nuts, sunflower & suet

hopper, tube & suet cage

all

all year

Chestnut-backed Chickadee

small insects, insect eggs, seeds & W. Hemlock seeds

nuts, sunflower & suet

hopper, tube & suet cage

forested areas & occ. urban

all year

Bushtit

small insects, spiders, fruit & seeds

suet

suet cage

all

 

White-breasted Nuthatch

insects, spiders, nuts, seeds & berries

sunflower, nuts, suet & cracked corn

hopper, tube & suet cage

all areas where oaks are common

all year

Red-breasted Nuthatch

insects, spiders, pine nuts & seeds

sunflower, nuts, suet & cracked corn

hopper, tube & suet cage

all

all year

Bewick’s Wren

insects, spiders and some fruit

suet

suet cage

all

all year

American Robin

earthworms, grubs, larvae, insects, spiders; also berries, fruits & seeds

suet, mealworms, berries, raisins & currants

platform, hopper & suet cage

all

all year

Ruby-crowned Kinglet

insects, insect eggs, spiders & occ. berries

suet

suet cage

all

fall, winter & spring

Golden-crowned Kinglet

insects, insect eggs, spiders & occ. berries

suet

suet cage

all

fall, winter & spring

Cedar Waxwing

berries & flying insects

berries, raisins, sliced apples, canned peas & currants

platform & hopper

all

all year

Yellow-rumped Warbler

insects, insect eggs & berries

suet

suet cage

all

fall, winter & spring

Townsend’s Warbler

insects & insect eggs

suet

suet cage

all

fall, winter & spring

Western Tanager

insects & berries

suet & berries

suet cage & platform

forests

spring & summer

Spotted Towhee

seeds, ground-dwelling insects & fruit

millet, sunflower, cracked corn & nuts

platform, ground, tube & hopper

all

all year

European Starling

insects, fruit & seeds

suet, sunflower & bread

platform, ground & suet cage

all, less common in forests

all year

Dark-eyed Junco

seeds of ground plants & insects

millet, sunflower, cracked corn & nuts

platform, ground, tube & hopper

all

all year

Song Sparrow

seeds of ground plants & insects

millet, sunflower, cracked corn & nuts

hopper, tube, platform & ground

all

all year

Golden-crowned Sparrow

blossoms, seeds of ground plants & insects

millet, sunflower, cracked corn & nuts

platform, ground & hopper

all

fall, winter & spring

White-crowned Sparrow

seeds of ground plants & insects

millet, sunflower, cracked corn & nuts

platform, ground & hopper

all

all year

Black-headed Grosbeak

buds, seeds, fruit & insects

sunflower & millet

platform, tube & hopper

all

spring & summer

Brewer’s Blackbird

grain crops, weed seeds & insects

suet, sunflower & bread

platform, ground, hopper & suet cage

all, less common in forested areas

all year

Red-winged Blackbird

grain crops, weed seeds & insects

suet, sunflower & bread

platform, ground, hopper & suet cage

marshes (summer)
or fields (winter)

all year

American Goldfinch

thistle, sunflower & insects

sunflower, thistle, nyjer & millet

tube, hopper & platform

all

all year

Lesser Goldfinch

thistle, sunflower & insects

sunflower, thistle, nyjer & millet

tube, hopper & platform

all

all year

Pine Siskin

thistle, red alder & spruce seed; insects

sunflower, thistle, nyjer & millet

tube, hopper & platform

all

fall, winter & spring

House Finch

seeds of weeds, thistle, sunflower & insects

sunflower, thistle, nyjer & millet

tube, hopper & platform

all, more common in urban areas

all year

Purple Finch

seeds of trees, buds, thistle, sunflower & insects

sunflower, thistle, nyjer & millet

tube, hopper & platform

all, more common in countryside

all year

Evening Grosbeak

seeds of trees; weed seeds, buds, small fruits & berries, some insects

sunflower, thistle, nyjer & millet

tube, hopper & platform

all

all year, sporatic

House Sparrow

seeds, fruit & insects

sunflower, millet, suet and bread

platform, ground, tube & hopper

urban & agricultural

all year

*Sapsuckers are woodpeckers which drill holes in live tree bark & drink sap

** Hopper feeders are also know as house feeders

1 Black-oil Sunflower is preferred

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2004 Summer: V2 #2

Sssummer Sssnakes
Two of the most common snake species in the mid-Willamette Valley are the Gopher Snake and the Common Garter Snake. Rattlesnakes were once prevalent here but now are almost extinct. While Gopher and Common Garter Snakes are common throughout most of North America, local varieties have distinctive colors and/or adaptations, which make them particularly fascinating.


Red-spotted Garter Snake
Thamnophis sirtalis concinnus
The Common Garter is especially adapted to eat the poisonous Rough-skinned Newt and our subspecies has striking coloration.

The three garter snake species found here are the Western Terrestrial, Northwestern and Common Garter Snakes. The Common Garter Snake is most widespread and the local population is quite striking in coloration. They have an orange head, black back, yellow dorsal stripe and red spots on the sides. Because of this, they are referred to as the Red-spotted Garter Snake. They are typically less than four feet long.
Newt Eater
The Red-spotted Garter Snake is resistant to the poisonous Rough-skinned Newt. These newts have numerous skin glands which secrete poison. Any predator, such as a bird, mammal or other snake, is killed when the newt is eaten and most all predators in our area recognize the newt as dangerous. The toxin does affect the garter snake, but only by slowing it down for a few days. Because of this, the snake may prefer less afflictive prey. During lean times when other prey are scarce, the garter snake eats newts. The newt and the snake have coevolved to the point where, in order to deter toxin-resistant garter snakes, the newts are so toxic that eating one newt can kill an adult human. Touching a newt may not affect you at all but it’s a wise precaution to wash your hands after handling one.
The diet of the Red-spotted Garter Snake is varied and dependent on available prey. Young snakes often feed on earthworms while adults prefer frogs, tadpoles, salamanders, newts and small fish. Other prey may include snails, slugs, leeches, small birds and small mammals. Rarely do they eat insects, spiders or other snakes.


Pacific Gopher Snake (Bull Snake)
Pituophis catenifer catenifer
This is the largest snake you will likely encounter here. They are harmless and important in controlling rodent populations.

Adult gopher snakes may surpass four feet in length, but around here they are commonly between three and four feet. They are also called “Bull Snakes,” but the name “Gopher Snake” is quite fitting since they do like to eat gophers. They eat a wide range of small mammals and birds and hunt by investigating burrows, brush and debris. The Gopher Snake is widespread across North America. Our subspecies, the Pacific Gopher Snake, is darker overall than Gopher Snakes in most other regions (including the central Oregon deserts).
Rattlesnake Impostor
Rattlesnakes have been largely eradicated by misguided attempts to protect humans and livestock. In the Willamette Valley, rattlesnakes are almost extinct. You may experience them vicariously through the Gopher Snake, which does a superficial impersonation when threatened. The pattern on the body and head of the Gopher Snake is similar to the rattlesnake and in a defense display, it widens its jaw (making the head look rattlesnake-like), coils its body and wiggles its tail (which can sound like rattling against dry vegetation). At the same time, the snake may make a deep, loud hiss. The message is clear, “Get away!”
Snakes here are not dangerous
Other than the extremely rare rattlesnakes, there are no other venomous snakes in the Willamette Valley. Other snakes will only bite if carelessly handled, with little lasting affect other than the surprise and a good story. Avoid handling snakes, they are delicate creatures and can be harmed easily.

Where to look for a snake
Garter and Gopher snakes maybe found year-round but especially from Spring to Fall. Garter snakes live near water or moist areas in the forest or open areas. Gopher snakes tend toward drier or rocky areas. In either case, they like to sun themselves on rocks, gravel or pavement. Be cautious while driving. During high summer, when the temperature is high, you may only find them sunning in the cool morning. In spring, when the ground is still cool, they need to sun themselves more often.
One of the best places is E.E. Wilson State Game Area north of Corvallis a few miles in Adair Village. It’s on the east side of Highway 99W from the Coffin Butte Landfill. The Red-spotted Garter Snakes are particularly colorful there. Gopher snakes live there too. These are common snakes, any area that is overgrown and relatively undisturbed may yield snakes.

Put out a “snake tin”
If you’ve seen snakes in a particular area, or expect that an area is good snake habitat, you can increase your chances of seeing them by placing out a metal sheet. Use a scrap corrugated tin roof material or other thin metal sheet. Place it in an area that is exposed to morning sun and which seldom gets disturbed. The snakes, and possibly other burrowing or soil creatures, like the warmth and safety under the sheet. When you visit the spot next time, you can check it. Carefully but swiftly lift up the sheet to take a peek. If you want a photo, have your camera ready and focused before you lift the sheet. Gently replace the sheet as soon as possible. For this reason, you do not want to use a heavy sheet as it will squash the critters when you place it back down. Also, thin metal takes less time to warm up. Other materials, like plastic or wood, do not conduct heat very well. Snakes are not picky—any junky, rusty scrap will do. Periodically, clean off debris from the sheet so that it remains exposed to the sun.

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Wooly Bears and Tiger Moths

Isabella Moth
Pyrrharctia isabella
This caterpillar is known as the Banded Wooly Bear. It emerges in the fall and eats various lawn plants but not regarded as a pest. It is black with an orange band in the center. The pattern cannot be used to predict the next winter but surprisingly, it is affected by the amount of rainfall in the previous winter.
The moth is a golden color and flies at night. The moth is also called the Isabella Tiger Moth.


Ranchman’s Tiger Moth
Platyprepia virginalis
The caterpillar of this “wooly bear” species emerges in spring. It is orange with an black band in the center (the opposite pattern of the Banded Wooly Bear). A distinctive feature is the longer white hairs that form a “mohawk” on the back side. Its host plants are willows.
The moth flies during the day and resembles a butterfly. The black forewings have pale yellow spots and the black hind wings have a few orange spots.

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The Cinnabar Moth and Tansy Ragwort
The Cinnabar Moth has been introduced to help control Tansy Ragwort, an invasive plant that is poisonous to grazing livestock. It is a perennial introduced from Europe. The caterpillars of Cinnabar moths eat the plant. The plant is only dangerous if eaten. The moth’s scientific name (Tyria jacobaeae) reflects its dependency on the plant (Senicio jacobea).

Cinnabar Moth
Tyria jacobaeae
A black moth with red markings. This daytime-flying moth also rivals butterflies in their color.
Where to find Cinnabar Moths
Find the plant and you will find the caterpillars as well as the moths. Tansy Ragwort grows in disturbed areas, like construction sites, edges of plowed fields and clearcuts. Look for the pretty clusters of yellow flowers. It is in the daisy family and the flower structure looks like little yellow daisies.

Tansy Ragwort or Tansy Butterweed
Senicio jacobea

The Cinnabar Moth lays eggs on Tansy Ragwort. The caterpillars are helpful in controlling the spread of this invasive, poisonous plant. The caterpillar is black and yellow, a warning to predators. The caterpillars contain toxic alkaloids ingested from their host plant.

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2004 Spring: V2 #1

Bobcat
Lynx rufus
The Bobcat is a species of Lynx endemic to North America. It lives throughout most of the lower 48 states and Mexico. The Canada Lynx, a similar species that is slightly larger, lives in cold regions of North America and does not live in the Willamette Valley or nearby forests.


Where to find a Bobcat
Around here, Bobcats live and hunt in almost any habitat where they can get enough rabbits, rodents and birds to eat. They are particularly common at E.E. Wilson Wildlife Area in Adair Village (east of the landfill) or Finley National Wildlife Refuge (10 miles south of Corvallis). People have spotted Bobcats in McDonald Forest, Chip Ross Park, Walnut Park and rural spots at the edges of town. Bobcats are a familiar sight in Lewisburg, Vineyard Mountain and Crescent Valley. Learn to recognize their tracks (see page two).


Gloger’s Rule
Photographs in magazines and nature programs on television most often show Bobcats from other parts of North America. You may be surprised when you encounter a Bobcat from around here. They are commonly darker, with their spots less contrasted. This can attributed to Gloger’s Rule. C.W. L. Gloger, a 19th century scientist, did extensive comparisons on birds in wet and dry climates and found that the same species will tend to have a dark plumage in wet climates. Others have observed the same tendencies in mammals, reptiles and insects. Familiar examples of this rule are Song Sparrows and Fence Lizards. In the wet climate of Western Oregon they are darker than their relatives in the Central Oregon deserts.
There are rare reports of Bobcats breeding with domestic cats. It is far more likely that a Bobcat will make a meal of a domestic cat. Keeping pet cats indoors or in outdoor enclosures is the best way to ensure their safety.
Bobcats have proportionally longer legs as compared to a domestic cat or Cougar. The most distinctive trait of the Bobcat is its short tail. Although common, consider yourself lucky if you see one of these elusive cats.

Cat Scat
The scats of domestic dogs and cats reveal the presence of their food, which is essentially cereal. The scat of wild predators contain hair and bones from their prey. The scat of cats tend to be segmented. The scat of wild dog species, like the Coyote scat, tend to be tapered and coiled. However, Coyote and Bobcat scat can look alike. During berry season, pigments and seeds from berries show up in Coyote scat but not Bobcat. Bobcats eat almost exclusively animals but grass may be present in scat. Just like your pet cat, grass helps a Bobcat’s digestive system. Scat is variable, so do not use these characteristics alone as identifying features.

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Track comparison
Common four-toed, medium-sized animal tracks
It is more common that they place the hind foot on top of the track of the front foot (that would be hard to illustrate here). Note that the front feet are wider with larger heel pads. Your pet cat or dog will represent this pattern well. In contrast, raccoons, bears, skunks, and many rodents have larger hind feet.
It is uncommon for any cat to register claw marks in their tracks. Bobcat tracks look mostly like your house cat but are one-third to two times larger. Cougar tracks are significantly larger than Bobcat. Cat tracks regularly have one toe pointing out in front of the others, whereas members of the dog family have the front two toes side-by-side.
Dog tracks vary widely. Coyote tracks are very similar to medium-sized dogs but are consistently more narrow. All species of the dog family typically register claw marks in their tracks. Red Fox tracks are doglike but relatively large for their wieght. It is possible to confuse them with Coyote tracks. Red Foxes have dense fur on their toes and heel pads which may show up in tracks. There is a narrow, boomerang-shaped patch of bare heel that is distinctive.

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Their Returning

Birds are like leaves.
Winter sends them flying
and they return with spring,
with first foliage,
with the sun that is so many meters
closer to the earth.

Birds,
like leaves
rest close to branches,
exist above us,
know the trembling ecstasy
of wild, unpatterned wind.

They too
suffer time,
flutter lifeless,
fall to earth,
and join the soil.

So that seeds may grow to trees,
and trees may grow to leaf,
and leaves may grow
as beautiful
as birds.

-Beth Russell

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Cloudy Spring
Perhaps it is discouraging to have regular rains until June. However, spring cloud patterns in Western Oregon are quite dynamic and variable, sometimes with generous sun breaks—get ready for rainbow season!
Cirrus: 22,000 – 35,000 ft: high and distant, feathery and sometimes wispy, made of ice crystals
Cirrostratus: 20,000 – 35,000 ft: thin, translucent and sheet-like, sometimes creating a halo around the sun or moon
Cirrocumulus: 25,000 – 30,000 ft: sheets that appear more opaque, grainy or tufted
Altocumulus: 10,000 – 20,000 ft: slightly puffy white or grayish and patterned layers; sometimes patchy or covering the entire shy; sometimes forms into lenticular clouds, inverted, saucer shapes typically appearing over mountain peaks
Altostratus: 10,000 – 20,000 ft: very little texture, uniform grayish; similar to cirrostratus but tend to be thicker and will not produce a halo around the sun
Nimbostratus: 8,000 – 20,000 ft: thick and dark often covering the entire sky; continuous rain or snow is produced by this cloud
Stratocumulus: 1,500 – 8,000 ft: low gray or white puffy clouds organized into roll or sheets; tends to have flat, even bases
Cumulus: 1,500 – 4,000 ft: puffy, patchy ‘fair weather’ clouds
Cumulus: 1,500 – 4,000 ft: producing thunderstorms, hail or even tornados; towering sometimes extremely high due to the turbulent forces within
Stratus: 0 – 2,000 ft: very low and featureless, sometimes producing drizzle; fog is a layer of stratus which touches the surface

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Clouds
I gave myself some advice:
“Don’t get attached to clouds.”
I watched them change above me
On second thought
Why not?
Fly from their tails
Drop as they dissipate.
Lose your face in the grass,
Evaporate

-Jorah Reinstein

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2003-04 Winter: V1 #4

Growing Season for Ferns
For many ferns, the rainy season is the time for growth and reproduction. Some are deciduous while others are evergreen.
Plants that swim
The reproduction process of ferns is more animal like, in some ways, than most familiar plants. Ferns do not have seeds and the male reproductive cells, the sperm, actually swim to meet the female reproductive cells, the eggs.
Adult fern plants dispense microscopic spores from their fronds. If the spores are lucky enough to fall onto the right conditions, usually moist soil, very tiny plants emerge called prothallia (singularly referred to as a prothallium). They develope close to the ground and never reach a significant size. The eggs and sperm are located on the undersides of the prothallia. Our ferns need moist enough conditions where the sperm can swim in water to meet to the egg cells and fertilized them. Once fertilized the adult fern plant grows out of the parent prothallium. The prothallium withers and dies having served it’s reproductive purpose.
Common ground-dwelling ferns in our area are Sword Fern and Bracken Fern. Sword Fern is evergreen and grows around 3 feet high in radial clusters in the forest. Bracken is winter deciduous and grows up to seven feet high in meadows and forest clearings. Another common fern, Licorice Fern (Polypodium glycyrrhiza), grows on any tree or other object that can support a dense matt of moss. I find them most often on Big Leaf Maple and Alder. The leaves are often less than a foot long and are connected by trailing rhizomes (rootlike stems). Licorice Fern, in our area, is summer deciduous, unable to grow or reproduce when the moss on trees dries up.

Licorice Fern
A common fern which grows and reproduces during the winter months, is typically found in trees. The plant gets it’s name from the licorice flavor in its trailing rhizomes.


It tastes like licorice!
The rhizomes of Licorice Fern are found embedded in the mossy carpet. You can cut a small strip out, clean it and chew on it. It has an intensely sweet and variably bitter licorice flavor. I find that the plant is too bitter to use in any quantity, for me it’s just a novelty. The chemical in this fern, glycyrrhizin, gives it the licorice flavor. It is also the same substance in the Licorice plant, used in food and tea. This is coincidental however, because the two plants are otherwise unrelated.
As with any wild plant, be certain that it is abundant enough to harvest. Also consider that in some places, such wildlife refuges, sanctuaries and certain parks, it is illegal to harvest any plant. Fortunately, there are no dangerous ferns in our area, so accidental poisoning isn’t much of an issue. However, isn’t it just a good principle to be unquestionably certain of what your eating?
Bracken Fern is often listed as a poisonous plant. It is, but it takes large quantities over a long period of time for there to be any effect. Bracken poisoning is more of a risk to livestock than people. I’ve tasted the steamed, tender young shoots of Bracken (sometimes called ‘fiddle heads’) and they are like asparagus. I only ever intend to eat Bracken, occasionally, in small quantities. Bracken, in any stage other than the fiddle head, is too tough for human consumption.

 

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Simpson Park
Simpson Park in Albany is not well known but it’s a naturalist’s treasure. The area used to be a timber operation with a log pond. The park encompasses the pond, which is as wide as 100 meters and almost a mile long with the length running north and south. The park also borders the Willamette River.
You cannot walk a loop around the pond because the north end of the park is impassable. The west end is forested and a path takes you northward. Shorter paths take you to viewpoints on the pond or to the Willamette River. The east end is more open, suitable for watching waterfowl. There is also a smaller pond east of the park, viewable from the road.
Winter water birds
The pond and the river are great for water birds, especially in winter. Most always there are Great Blue Herons and possibly a pure, white Great Egret. The pond is suitable for dabbling waterfowl as well a divers. Common species are the Double-crested Cormorant, Pied-billed Grebe, American Coot, Canada Goose, Mallard, Ringed-neck Duck, American Wigeon, Green-winged Teal, Northern Shoveler, Bufflehead, Northern Pintail, Wood Duck, and Common Merganser. Belted Kingfishers, who often perch over the water, are most always present.
Winter forest birds
You will easily find both Steller’s and Scrub Jays in the tall trees between the pond and the river. Most numerous, ground-dwelling species are the Dark-eyed Junco, Song Sparrow, Spotted Towhee and Bewick’s Wren. You may also see the Winter Wren and Fox Sparrow in the shrubs along the path. In thickets in more open areas are flocks of Golden-crowned and White-crowned Sparrow. In the forest canopy, Black-capped Chickadees are a given, but occasionally, Chestnut-backed Chickadees show up. The Chickadees will often form mixed flocks with Bushtits, Ruby-crowned and Golden-crowned Kinglets, Yellow-rumped and Townsend’s Warblers with the occasional Hutton’s Vireo or Downy Woodpecker. There are other woodpecker species like the Northern Flicker (very common), Red-breasted Sapsucker, Hairy Woodpecker and possibly, if you’re lucky, a Pileated Woodpecker. There are other tree clingers who are not woodpeckers. Be on the lookout for the Red-breasted Nuthatch and Brown Creeper. Finches, like the House Finch, American Goldfinch, Purple Finch and Pine Siskin spend most of the time in the tree tops.
On one occasion I watched three River Otters frolic and fish in the south end of the pond. You may also encounter Beaver and Nutria either in the pond or the Willamette River.
In the spring time the area is rich in wildflowers. There is a notable quantity of Lemon Balm along the trail side. The plant is in the mint family and has a strong citrus odor. One day, in the summer, while I was bothered by mosquitoes, I used the crushed Lemon Balm as a brief deterrent to the biting insects. The plant’s odor is very volatile and quickly evaporates.
How to get to Simpson Park
The shortest way to the park requires zigzagging through the streets so I will stick with the most simple directions (which is not all that much further anyway):
• From downtown Albany, take Highway 99E
• Take a left turn (North) onto Airport Road SE (traffic light)
• Immediately thereafter, take another left onto
Salem Ave.
• Within a few blocks, take a right onto Davidson St.
• Take a right onto Waverly Dr., which bends leftward
• Waverly takes you to the park and there is a parking area on the left.

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Varied Thrush
Ixoreus naevius
The slow, quavering whistle of the varied thrush is one of the most haunting and evocative sounds of the western forests. In the winter, this strikingly plumaged bird descends from the Coast Range and the western Cascades into the valleys, where it may be easily overlooked as it forages near the ground. A quick glance may suggest an American robin, but its soft, low tschook call and prominent breast band distinguish it. In very rare cases, the orange eyebrow, underparts, and wing barring are replaced by white. This thrush depends on mature and old-growth forest for its breeding habitat, avoiding forest edges. Habitat destruction is probably the major contributor to the significant decline of the population west of the Cascades.
-Lisa Millbank

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Squirrel Nests
Winter time may draw your attention to those debris clusters in the crown’s of trees. Don’t assume they are all bird nests. Squirrels also build large nests in trees, but unlike hawk or crow nests, they are spherical. Squirrel nests have an internal cavity accessible though a small opening in the side. They may also build dummy nests without a cavity which serves as a predator deterrent. When available, squirrels will bring their debris pile into a large tree cavity and built the nest there.
Chickorees (a.k.a. Douglas Squirrels) have nests that tend to be made out of grass and shredded bark whereas Western Gray Squirrel nests tend to use more leaves. These are tendencies however and behavior of the animals may be the only way to confirm the occupancy of a nest.
It is possible to confuse clusters of Mistletoe, which grows on oak trees, with these nests. Indeed, the Mistletoe clusters are spherical but never as dense and, more importantly, Mistletoe is green.

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2003 Fall: V1 #3

Willamette Valley Oak Galls
Oregon White Oak (Quercus garryana) may turn disappointingly brown in Autumn, but a closer look can yield fascinating surprises. As leaves are found on the ground, so are the many galls that grow on them. Galls are growth deformities on plants caused by insects but mites may contribute. Oaks have the largest gall variety in our region. A single species of oak may have a dozen types of gall. Each gall variety is distinctive in color and shape, and is caused by a specific insect species. Three wasp species cause the most common galls on Oregon White Oak. These gall wasps are smaller and less colorful than the familiar yellowjackets and paper wasps and they can’t sting people. In Spring the wasps lay eggs in sprouting leaves or twigs. Through a seemingly magical process the egg and then the developing larva cause the oak to grow a gall that provides protection and food for the insect. No similar benefit is offered to the oak. Scientists regard this relationship as parasitic but it does little to harm the oak.
The three prominent gall wasps on Oregon White Oak are in the same family. The Oak Apple Wasp forms large, persistent, apple-like galls on twigs. The Spectacled Gall Wasp forms mottled, spherical galls on leaves. The strangest might be the Jumping Gall Wasp, which forms mustard-seed-like galls on lower leaf surfaces that drop in the fall and jump around like Mexican jumping beans caused by activity of the enclosed larvae. 1
1) Larew and Capizzi, 1983. Common Insect and Mite Galls of the Pacific Northwest, vol 5. Oregon State University Press.

Gall Wasps
Species Highlights
Oak galls are often caused by wasps in the Cynipidae family and are referred to by scientist as Cynipids. Commonly they are also called Gall Wasps. The picture shown here is typical of the their size and shape. These tiny wasps are unable to sting people.

Oak Apple Wasp
Andricus californicus
Oak Apples are aptly named for they are the largest of our oak galls. They can be pale brown and may get dark later in fall or winter. They are thick walled and have a pithy core. They are the most dense of the galls and can last well into the next growing season.


Spectacled Gall Wasp
Besbicus mirabilis
These may be our most abundant oak galls. As large as ping pong balls and almost as hollow. They are tan or yellow with red spots in Autumn but green in summer. Inside are delicate fibers radiating from the center. In summer, you may find the wasp larva at the center. By Autumn, insect has already emerged leaving a pencil point sized hole in the shell of the gall.

Jumping Gall Wasp
Neuroterus saltatoriu
These crazy little galls still have larva in them after they fall in Autumn. They are yellow and about the size of mustard seeds. They hop or wiggle around by the action of the larva inside. Not widely common, I’ve found these galls on oaks on the northern hilly parts of Corvallis.

 

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Oregon White Oaks
Where to Find them in Corvallis
Chip Ross Park on the north side of Corvallis has a relatively healthy oak population. The crowns of the trees often come close to the ground, making it possible to see the twigs and leaves. The Benton County Fairgrounds has a grove of tall oaks and a resident colony of Acorn Woodpeckers who feed on them. Bald Hill Park has some good old oaks along the bike path and near the barn. Bald Hill is a good spot to harvest acorns, if you can avoid poison oak (see events on back page about the acorn processing workshop). Avery Park has a grove of tall oaks near the Avery House Nature Center and the Locomotive. Crescent Valley High School has many oaks at the perimeter of its grounds. There are also many groves in the countryside on private land.
Identifying Oregon White Oak
Other oak species are planted in town and residential areas but Oregon White Oak is our only native. In southern Oregon there are other native species, like California Black Oak. Oregon White Oak has medium sized leaves with rounded lobes. Older trees typically have twisted, gnarled branches with a lot of character. Acorns are always a sure sign of the presence of oak trees. Oregon White Oak acorns are oval and the diameter of a dime to a nickel. Red Oak acorns are about the same size but often more round than oval. The inside of the shell is fuzzy brown whereas our native oak has a smooth inner shell. Later in the season they may get fuzzy white or green from mold. Other cultivated oaks have tiny or long, narrow acorns.
Common Oaks in Town
From left to right: The Red Oak is native to Eastern North America; Oregon White Oak is native to Southern British Columbia, Washington, Oregon and California; Pin Oak is native to Eastern North America; the Durmask Oak is native to Europe

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Landscapes
Poetry by Beth Russell

A.M.
Above the hills
I watched the morning rise.
Beyond the tangled traffic,
Beyond the power lines,
I saw the earth unfold beneath the sky
Untouched by all the haste and waste
And hurry of our lives.

BARN
old wood rising
over hill’s horizon
square strong minding
of god’s first tiding:
our purpose is to tend
not ourselves and fellow men
but the creatures and the seed
which soul and body need.
In the Work of heart and hand
we are redeemed.

ROWS
The geometry of fields
excites the eye
Is paradox as order
contains chaotic life.
The mind and hand have shaped them
straight and square.
But the heart is stronger knowing
of the wildness tangled there.

Beth Russell is a native of Puget Sound’s Whidbey Island, she is a mother, a homemaker, and an activist for local sustainability. She teaches English at Corvallis High School.

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New Birds for Autumn
We said good-bye to the summer birds at our feeders but we can expect new arrivals this fall. In some cases, year-round residents will come and go to your backyards depending on their seasonal habits. Just because you haven’t seen chickadees at your feeder during the summer doesn’t mean they have left the Willamette Valley. In Autumn, some feeder birds like Black-headed Grosbeaks and Lazuli Buntings do in fact leave for Mexico.


Autumn Migratory Arrivals
Other birds arrive from the North or from the mountains. Here is an overview of common migrants you can expect in your backyard this season:


Fox Sparrow
Field Marks: “Chocolaty” colored head without stripes; it has spots on its breast that converge to a central spot; small cone shaped beak with yellow on bottom
Food: Seeds; will come to your seed feeder
Habits: Likes thickets and brush; does not flock
Similar: The Song Sparrow is very similar but has stripes on its head and a beak that is all the same color. It has streaks not spots on breast.


Golden-crowned Sparrow
Field Marks: Plain gray breast; black crown with yellow or light colored crest; mottled brown back and wings; small cone shaped beak that is dark
Food: Seeds; will come to your seed feeder
Habits: Likes thickets and brush; often foraging on ground; usually in flocks of five or more
Similar: The White-crowned Sparrow often flocks with the Golden-crowned Sparrow. They have stripes on the side of the head and a yellow beak.


Ruby-crowned Kinglet
Field Marks: Olive colored back; two white wing bars; broken white eye ring; male has a tiny ruby crest that may be flashed when he’s exited or agitated; thin short beak.
Food: Insects; will come to your suet feeder but will not eat seeds
Habits: Likes thickets and trees; does not flock.
Similar: Very similar to the uncommon Hutton’s Vireo. The vireo has a heavier beak.


Golden-crowned Kinglet
Field Marks: Olive colored back; two white wing bars; white and black head stripes; the crest is yellow to bright yellow-orange; thin, short beak
Food: Insects; will come to your suet feeder but will not eat seeds
Habits: Likes the crowns of trees; especially evergreens; usually in flocks of five or more
Similar: May be confused with Red-breasted Nuthatch. It has a blue-gray back and no yellow on crest.


Yellow-rumped Warbler
Field Marks: Variable; always has a yellow rump patch; streaking on sides of breast; whitish wing bars; throat is yellow or white; thin beak.
Food: Insects; will come to your suet feeder but will not eat seeds
Habits: Prefers small trees; usually in flocks of five or more.
Similar: The less common Townsend’s Warbler has yellow stripes on the head.


Varied Thrush
Field Marks: Dark back with orange breast and throat, orange brow stripe, black bib and orange bars on wings, dark beak.
Food: Insects; worms and small invertebrates.
Habits: Forest floor, likes to hunt worms like a Robin.
Similar: The American Robin is the same general size, shape and color. It has no brow stripe or wing bars. It has a yellow bill and white-streaked throat

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2003 Summer: V1 #2

Big Brown Bat
Eptesicus fuscus
Wing span: about 9 inches: 0.4 to 0.6 oz.
Range: All of Oregon, Southern Canada, continental U.S. and most of Mexico.
Habitat: Roosts and hibernates in buildings, hollow trees, wooded areas, crevices, tunnels, caves. Hunts in the city, forests, fields and over water.
Diet: Beetles, moths, mosquitoes, and other flying insects.
To See Big Brown Bats in Corvallis
In the summer, go downtown to Riverfront Park at dusk. Be patient and you’ll see them fly towards the river from these roosting spots:
1) Building crevices along the alley west of First Street and between Jackson and Monroe.
2) The building behind the wall with the graffiti art murals which is along the bike path by the river (between Washington and Western). Sit at the picnic tables and enjoy the show!


Bug Zapper
With its 32 pointy teeth, a Big Brown Bat can crunch up as many as a few hundred insects in one night, including mosquitoes and agricultural pests.


Big Brown Bats are the most familiar bat to people because they like to roost in attics, eaves, barns or other buildings, often hibernating indoors during winter. They also roost beneath loose bark, tree cavities and caves. They are harmless, precious and delicate creatures, and should be left alone. It can be hard to tell if a hibernating bat is alive or dead! During hibernation, the body temperature of a Big Brown Bat is almost the same as its surroundings. Also, its breathing is unnoticeable and its heart rate is dramatically slow.
As mammals, bats give birth, feed their young milk and have hair, just like us! But bats are unique among mammals for their ability of powered flight. But rather than flying mice, bats are more like flying shrews. Like shrews, bats have pointy teeth perfectly suited for eating insects.
Also, like shrews, bats can see just fine but rely more heavily on their other senses. Their sophisticated voices and ears are designed for honing in on flying insects while they themselves are flying at full speed. Bats use this
echo-location (a kind of sonar) for not only for hunting, but for navigating as well.

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What’s All That Noise About?
Birds Can Reveal the Presence of Other Wildlife
Birds keep keen watch on the neighborhood and are quickly alerted to the presence of a hawk, owl or other threat. In downtown Corvallis, I’ve seen crows harass eagles, ravens, red-tailed hawks, raccoons and even people.
Go Investigate, You’ll Be Surprised!
Sometimes crows or jays will bicker amongst themselves for social reasons. When you hear both crows and jays upset, go find the source of the noise. Instead of being simply annoyed at all the noise, you might make an exciting discovery. If the object of harassment is not immediately visible, watch the harassing birds. They will point their beaks towards the culprit! They’ll also make sweeping dives at the intruder. Unseen cats, snakes, bobcats, weasels, coyotes, foxes and others can often be found simply by paying attention to the distress calls of birds. If the focus of harassment is on the ground, look for a ground dwelling predator. If the harassers are pointing toward the crown of a tree, think of a predator who would be perching or sitting there. One spring morning, I awoke to the cries of crows and scrub jays. At 60 feet up in a Douglas Fir tree, I was expecting a hawk, but the culprit was a raccoon sleeping on a branch. Even if an intruder, a hawk for example, is capable of killing its harassers, it usually won’t try it because it would be placing itself at risk of being killed or injured by the combined force of the angry mob. Most predators are designed to kill one at a time and prefer to use surprise or ambush to their advantage. Also, the predators are usually after eggs, nestlings or fledglings (during nesting season) and not trying to hunt the full-grown adults. Adult birds may not feel personally threatened by a predator but they will drive it away if their nest is threatened. Interestingly enough, crows and jays are themselves predators and nest robbers. So, if you hear a collection of songbirds signaling distress alarms, there might be a crow or jay near their nest!
Birds Tell You the Location and Size of the Predator
The perceived threat of the predator determines the distance from which the harassers cry out. A bird hunter like a cooper’s hawk will command more distance than a red-tailed hawk. That’s because red-tails are hunters of small animals in fields and not as agile and aggressive as a cooper’s hawk. On the ground for instance, a weasel will have a corps of harassers perching at a distance higher than the weasel can jump. Likewise, harassers will go even higher for a bobcat. How high, would you imagine, would they have to be for a cougar?
Distinguish Between Alarms and Other Bird Noise
Male birds will often battle amongst themselves and fledglings will harass parents for food but these noises will not draw the attention of other birds. So, even if there’s a lot of noise, other birds may not be alarmed and will go about their business as usual. Now, if you have a situation where birds of different species are participating (and possibly even some squirrels or chipmunks), that’s when to take particular notice. Crows and jays are often the first alarm callers you may hear but you can’t trust them like songbirds. Crows and jays are tricksters and, as mentioned before, nest robbers and, at times, will act strangely compared to other birds.
Bird Language
Some of the topics discussed above form the basis of my “Bird Language” lectures and workshops. Other folks are teaching these concepts, such as Tom Brown Jr.’s Tracker School and Jon Young’s Wilderness Awareness School (Jon came up with the title “Bird Language”). You can find Tom Brown Jr.’s books at the library. Also see www.WildernessAwareness.org.

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Ladybugs
Poetry by Charles Goodrich

Every January they re-emerge,
anchorites from within our walls,
and cloister themselves on the upstairs window
for a few weeks of fasting and travail.
By day they wander the glass
like desert mendicants, each bug
nothing but a robe and a begging bowl.
By night they huddle
in a corner of the casement,
a little heap of rosary beads,
a handful of prayers incarnate.
Winter being the season of doom,
I have my own austerities to attend to.
But, mornings, when I find
their eclipsed bodies on the windowsill,
lovely and empty as little lacquered urns
I sweep them up with a feather duster
and return them to the garden.

from “Insects of South Corvallis”, a poetry collection by Charles Goodrich. Available at Grass Roots Bookstore and the OSU Bookstore

Convergent Lady Beetle
Hippodamia convergens
“Ladybugs” are beetles and the Convergent Lady Beetle is very common. They are beneficial to people because they eat aphids and some other insects which damage crops. There are many lady beetle species. You can distinguish species by noting the spot pattern on their back and looking it up in an insect field guide.

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Goldfinches and Thistle
The interdependent relationship between the American Goldfinch and thistle is ancient. The male Goldfinch pictured here, perched on Canada Thistle, is bright yellow during summer. Goldfinches eat the seeds of the thistle, as well as those of the sunflower, tarweed and other related plants. Goldfinches nest later than most songbirds and use the fluffy down from the plants in their nests. The plants depend on the finches to pull apart the seed heads which disperses their fluffy seed packets into the wind. You can purchase thistle seed and bird feeders designed to hold it to attract American Goldfinches, Lesser Goldfinches and Pine Siskins to your home all year round.

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Summer Doldrums
July through September in our region is unlike summers in other parts of our continent. The weather patterns here are very stable, hot and dry. This is good news for those who enjoy outdoor sports but it is a lean time for birds and other wildlife. While native vegetation enjoys abundant rain throughout the rest of the year, it has had to adapt to conserve water through this period, so plant growth slows dramatically. This affects the food supply to insects at the very base of the food chain. This is why there is a noticeable slow down in bird song and activity in July. During this period, some bird species migrate to the mountains to avoid the heat.

E.E.Wilson Wildlife Area
Just six miles north of Corvallis, E.E.Wilson Wildlife Area is east of Highway 99W across the road from Coffin Butte Landfill. Take Camp Adair Road east for a quarter mile and park at the lot near the pheasant cages or the angler’s parking lot. (You can go fishing there too.) Though perhaps not as scenic as other natural areas, its overgrown thickets and shallow wetlands are loaded with birds, mammals, reptiles, frogs and wild plants. It’s easy to walk or ride a bike on the old paved roads but it’s not frequented by hikers, mountain bikers or joggers. This is a hunting area so take note of the local hunting season’s schedule. You can go there during hunting season, just wear bright orange or red. I like to go there at all times of the year.

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Neighborhood Naturalist • 2003 Spring: V1 #1

Stinging Nettle
Urtica dioica

Behind the sinister defense, is a tasty,
nutritious, medicinal and useful plant
The plant looks a bit menacing with its toothy leaves and stinging hairs. The abundant plant however can be collected (with gloves of course) and its stinging quality can be quickly neutralized by steaming or boiling. Drying may also do this with varying results.
The plants defense is the tiny, sharp, silica hairs with concentrated formic acid and histamine. Formic acid is what some ants use to sting with. Like hollow glass needles, they barely puncture the skin and release a burning but small quantity of concentrated acid. This is how it gives you a rash. When you boil or steam the plant, the hairs rupture and immediately dilute the formic acid into something less harmful than vinegar. The concentrated acid is only dangerous because it is acidic and not toxic otherwise, so it is safe when diluted.
While other species depend on bitterness or toxicity as a defense, the Stinging Nettle (without its stinging defense) is a mild, tasty and nutritious plant.
Stinging Nettles commonly get up to about 6 or 7 feet tall and is useful at all stages, even after it dies in the Fall. When it’s about a foot tall or less, it is tender and the leaves and stem can be cooked and eaten like asparagus. When taller, the top 6 inches can be plucked and collect the leaves and cook them like spinach. Later in the Summer, often the plants are reaching the maximum, the stems, and perhaps the leaves, are too tough. Gather the leaves and dry them to use in tea.
In late Summer or Fall, most of the plant has died and a tough stem remains. If you are in to wild crafts or weaving, these stems are a good source of long fibers. You peal the outer fibers from the pithy center. I’ve used these fibers these to make a sturdy string.
Always be wary of polluted water or soil when collecting plants for consumption.

A perennial herb with stinging hairs, opposite, saw-toothed leaves, square stems and up to 7 ft. tall. Flowers are numerous, greenish and appear in dense, drooping clusters.

Where?
Moist ground often near streams. Open forest to meadows. Commonly grows in clusters. It is introduced from Eurasia.

When?
From March, in low areas, to October. Collection time depends on what your use is. It is best in Spring and Early Summer for eating, Spring and Summer for tea and Fall for its fibrous stems. The above ground plants die in winter but they survive as rhizomes until the next growing season.

What’s it good for?
As a cooked green or tea, it is high in Vitamin A, Vitamin C and Iron. Medicinally its use is broad. I’ve used it to help ease my respiratory allergic reactions.

It’s not in the mint family
Unrelated to Stinging Nettle, are species called Hedge Nettles which look similar but have no stinging hairs. Hedge Nettles are in the mint family. Unlike Stinging Nettles, mint family plants have 5-petaled, tubular flowers with lipped petals on the bottom. Stinging Nettles have tiny flowers in clusters. The Tumbleweed is the only other western plant in the Stinging Nettle family.

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Aerial “Tigers” in the Suburbs
If you are a finch, sparrow, Robin, Starling or any other bird of similar size, your waking hours are haunted, and perhaps your nightmares too. At any moment, sometimes with little or no warning, a fierce and agile ambush predator may strike.
In the country, suburbs and town in our bioregion live two common hawks species in the Accipiter genus. The Sharp-shinned Hawk, often referred to as “Sharpy” by birders, is smaller and more common. The Cooper’s Hawk is larger and usually less common. They’re hunting styles are similar and their prey are birds which are mostly caught on the wing. Because of their similarities, I’ll refer to the two species in general as Accipiters.
The Accipiters are adapted to catch prey in dense forest or suburban areas with trees and buildings, as the case may be. Their short, broad wings are powerful and agile. I once watched a Cooper’s Hawk dive into a holly thicket in my yard (too dense to put my hand in) and thrash about chasing house sparrows. Accipiters are like tigers, they wait in ambush and overcome their prey with a burst of speed and power. Some falcon species hunt birds on the wing. The falcon’s long, tapered wings are suitable to make them the fastest creatures on the planet but they need an open area to use that speed. If an Accipiter is like a tiger in the jungle, than a falcon is like a cheetah on the grassland.
The Accipiters are also masters of stealth. They’ll fly low along hedge rows or shadow lines of trees to avoid detection. I know of one Cooper’s Hawk that would stalk quail, ground-dwelling birds, by creeping on the forest floor in the brush, and then burst out in its attack flight when the moment was right. I’m often surprised by a flying Accipiter when I’m out birding because I sometimes don’t expect them. They’re so sneaky when they stalk, it’s as if even the hawk itself believes its “invisible”.
When as much as a single small bird detects the presence of an Accipiter, it will sound a desperate alarm call. This will spark a wave of bird alarms throughout the tree tops, brush and ground. If you’re out in the garden or park listening to the birds and you hear a sudden wave of screeches and chips, look out for a possible Accipiter. Accipiters are attracted to aggregations of small birds, like bird feeders. You may find out that the hawks perch nearby feeders and will strike sometimes. Some people don’t like these hawks scaring the birds at their feeders while others relish having “Nature in action” in their own yards.

Accipiters:
Our Stealthy Bird Hawks
In our bioregion, the genus called Accipiter has three species in it. Sharp-shinned Hawk, Cooper’s Hawk and the Northern Goshawk. The Goshawk is the largest and an uncommon dweller of remote forested areas.
Sharp-shinned Hawks and Cooper’s Hawks are common and can be found anywhere where there are significant trees and brush, from the countryside to town — and plenty of birds to hunt.
Cooper’s Hawks are larger in size but both species look very similar. In both species, the females are larger. So size is a difficult distinction since a female Sharp-shinned Hawk is close to the size of a male Cooper’s Hawk. Here are some visual guidelines for you to distinguish the two species.

Sharp-shinned Hawk
Accipiter striatus
Cooper’s Hawk
Accipiter cooperii

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Blackbird or a Black Bird?
In North America, the term Blackbird refers to a closely related tribe of birds. This tribe does not include crows, ravens and starlings, even though they are black. Crows and Ravens are notably large. Blackbirds and Starlings often flock together making it difficult to tell them apart. Here are some visual guidelines of our common black-colored birds.
Blackbirds
Blackbirds common in our bioregion include the Red-winged Blackbird (cattail marshes or in fields), the Brewer’s Blackbird (open areas in town and country) and the Brown-headed Cowbird (often in close association with livestock in pastures). There are “Blackbird” species that are not black such as the orange and black Bullock’s Oriole and the yellow, white and brown Western Meadowlark. Furthermore, female Red-winged Blackbirds are brown and streaky, like a sparrow. The European Starling is close in size but in another family altogether. It can be distinguished by a short tail that does not reach the end of its wing tips while perched.
Crows and Ravens
Common Ravens and American Crows are closely related to jays and magpies. The Raven is the largest and is found mostly in wilderness or the countryside. The Raven’s most obvious distinction is its spade-shaped tail, seen while in flight. It is solitary or if in groups they are often five or less. Unlike Ravens, Crows often form large flocks in the countryside or in town. The Raven has a deeper, more throaty “caw” than the crow.

Raven and Crow
The American Crow is what most people encounter. They are very common in cities and the countryside. Crows often form flocks of 20 or more. Ravens are more solitary and tend to form smaller flocks than Corws. Ravens are also present in remote areas where Crows may not be found.

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