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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 • Wrentit •
Townsend's Chipmunk • Hutton's
Vireo / Ruby-crowned Kinglet
2008
Summer: V6 #2 • Spotted Towhee
• Common Whitetail (dragonfly) •
Bigleaf Maple
2008
Spring: V6 #1 • Vernal Pools
• Willamette Valley Swallows
2007-08
Winter: V5 #4 • Raccoons •
Ice Age Flood
2007
Fall: V5 #3 • Killdeer •
Roosevelt Elk
2007
Summer: V5 #2 • Western Pond Turtle
• Turkey Vulture • Naturalist
Calendar
2007
Spring: V5 #1 • Wild Lettuce
• Naturalist Calendar • Lilies
2006-07
Winter: V4 #4 • Western Scrub-Jay
• Moles •
2006
Autumn: V4 #3• Rabbits • The
Age of Soil Bugs, Pseudoscorpion • Acorn
Woodpeckers
2006
Summer: V4 #2 • Osprey Stargazing
This Summer Tarweed and Gumweed
2006
Spring: V4 #1• Black Cottonwood
The Age of Soil Bugs, Springtails
Glow Worms Le
Printemps—A Spring Soliloquy
2005-6
Winter : V3 #4• Mistletoe Thoughts
on Rabbits Starlings
2005
Fall: V3 #3 • Falll mushrooms
Gray Diggers (California Ground Squirrels)
2005
Summer: V3 #2 Blackberries: Himalayan
(Armenian), Evergreen & Trailing Dewberry • Northwest
Fence Lizard
2005
Spring: V3 #1 • Wild Plant gathering and
ethics Wild Mustard as food Pacific
Chorus Frog
2004-05
Winter: V2 #4 • Rough-skinned Newt
Salamanders of the Willamette Valley
Winter Poetry by Beth Russell
2004
Autumn: V2 #3 • Cellar Spiders • Daddy
Longlegs • Stewart Lake at HP by Joan Newhouse
• Food chart for feeder birds
2004
Summer: V2 #2 • Red-spotted Garter Snake
• Gopher Snake (Bull Snake) • Woolly
Bears • Cinnabar Moth and Tansy Ragwort
2004
Spring: V2 #1 • Bobcat • Animal
track comparison • Cloud types • Cloud
Poetry by Jorah Reinstein • Spring poetry by
Beth Russell
2003-04
Winter: V1 #4 • Licorice Fern • Simpson
Park in Albany • Varied Thrush art by Lisa
Millbank • Squirrel nests
2003
Autumn: V1 #3 • The mystery of oak galls
• Location of native oaks in Corvallis • Landscape
poetry by Beth Russell • Migratory arrivals
for autumn: songbirds
2003
Summer: V1 #2 • Big Brown Bats • How
birds reveal the presence of other wildlife • Ladybug
poetry by Charles Goodrich • Goldfinches and
thistle • Summer Doldrums
• E.E. Wilson Wildlife Area
2003
Spring: V1 #1 • Stinging Nettles • Accipiters:
aerial tigers • Blackbirds, starlings and crows
back
to index |
| |
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.
back
to index |
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. |
back
to index |
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.
back
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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.
back
to index |
Common Whitetail
by Lisa Millbank
When I was about 9, I was fascinated by an irrigation ditch near
my house. To me it was like visiting a fabulous wilderness, absolutely
teeming with life, and I always brought my butterfly net. I loved
to catch insects, but dragonflies were too elusive for me. I watched
the Common Whitetails swiftly cruising over the water and I longed
to catch one. Effortlessly, they evaded the wild swings of my
net. One day, after many futile attempts, I spotted a Whitetail
speeding toward me and swept the net over the water. At the same
time I lost my balance and stumbled into the ditch. But as soon
as I heard the Whitetail’s wings buzzing in the net, I forgot
about the mud and algae covering my legs. I finally had one!
I removed him from the net and marveled at the spectacular creature
in my hands. His abdomen was coated with a waxy, bluish-white
pigment. His clear wings were marked with broad smoky patches.
The bristles on his legs made a basket for capturing flying insects,
which he would crunch with his powerful jaws. His faceted eyes
looked like huge spherical goggles, seemingly capable of seeing
everywhere at once. The dragonfly buzzed impatiently in my hands
and I let him go back to his hunting.
I didn’t know it at the time, but the Whitetail’s
ancestors chased insects in the same way, over 300 million years
ago in the Paleozoic Era. Their winning design pairs an elegant
aerodynamic form with precise flight control. But the winged adult
dragonfly is only a part of the story; dragonflies spend most
of their lives as an aquatic larva, or naiad.
The naiad itself is an accomplished hunter. Though it is a squat,
odd little insect, it is fully capable of eating almost any aquatic
insect or small fish. Under its head it conceals an extensible
mouthpart, armed with gripping claw-like appendages. Much like
the arms of a praying mantis, the dragonfly naiad shoots out its
lower “lip” to grab prey. A dragonfly naiad gets oxygen
from water with its rectal gills, located...well, you can probably
guess where. To quickly move out of danger, it expels water from
its anus with considerable force—truly a jet-propelled animal.
Lurking in the algae mats at the bottom of a sluggish stream or
pond, the naiad eats and grows, shedding its skin many times,
for up to three years. At its last molt, it climbs out of the
water and splits its skin for the last time. The adult emerges
with crumpled wings, but in a short time they straighten and dry,
gleaming in the sun. Unlike most insects, dragonflies take some
time to mature sexually although they’ve completed their
last molt.
Common Whitetail (Plathemis lydia) male
A male Common Whitetail accumulates bluish-white pigment on the
upper surface of his abdomen as he ages. Recently emerged males
have a brown abdomen, but they do show the same wing pattern as
a mature male.
From May to October, Common Whitetails are some of the most common
dragonflies skimming the ponds and quiet waterways of our area.
Males establish territories which they routinely patrol. Each
male will have a few favorite perches from which he will watch
for other dragonflies. He’ll quickly chase off other species
of dragonflies, but he’ll attack other male Whitetails with
particular vigor. If he spots a female Whitetail he will try to
mate with her. Mating takes place in the air. The pair return
to the water’s surface, where the female repeatedly dips
the tip of her abdomen in the water, releasing her eggs. The male
hovers over her, driving off other males that might try to mate
with her. By the time of autumn’s killing frosts, thousands
of eggs have drifted down to rest on underwater mud.
I spent many summers chasing Whitetails, and I’m still captivated
by the speed and precision of their flight. Sit beside any pond
and it’s more than likely a Whitetail will zip by in a few
moments.
Common Whitetail female
A female has a different wing pattern and a series of white spots
along each side of her abdomen.
A Common Whitetail naiad
The naiad extends its claw-like labium to catch prey. When not
in use, the labium is tucked under the head and thorax. Perhaps
a sci-fi monster has been modeled after this fearsome larva!
A Common Whitetail Lookalike
Twelve-spotted Skimmer (Libellula pulchella) male
Like the Common Whitetail, a male Twelve-spotted Skimmer also
has a bluish-white abdomen and often lives in the same habitat.
However, his wing pattern is nothing like the Whitetail’s.
Twelve-spotted Skimmer female
A female Twelve-spotted Skimmer is easily confused with a female
Common Whitetail. She is larger and has yellow stripes along the
sides of her abdomen.
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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. back
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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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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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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.
back
to index |
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.
back
to index |
|
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
back
to index |
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
back
to index |
|
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
back
to index |
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).
back
to index |
| 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.
back
to index |
|
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.
back
to index |
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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to index |
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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to index |
|
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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to index |
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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to index |
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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to index |
|
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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to index |
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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to index |
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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to index |
|
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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to index |
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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to index |
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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to index |
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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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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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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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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