Some Midwestern Landscapes

December 16, 2014, 7:51 pm

A recent project had me going through scads of photos, and in the process I came across a number of landscape images. Some of which I really like, and maybe you will, too. Some of these photos have made their way to this blog in the past; others, not. As always, you can click on the photo to enlarge it.

Fall colors at Rhododendron Cove State Nature Preserve, Fairfield County, Ohio. This is an oldie, but to me at least, a goodie. I really like the way that the image came out, even if it was blind luck. It dates to 2007, which for me was the Bronze Age of photography. The image was made with a Panasonic FZ-30 point & shoot, and I really didn't have much awareness of the Big Three back then: ISO, shutter speed, and aperture. The camera's settings reflect my ignorance: f/2.8; 1/30 shutter speed; ISO 125. I could have gotten away with a much smaller aperture (higher f-stop number), which would have probably given greater clarity to the scene. But it worked out anyway, and the extremely shallow depth of field gives the image a hazy, dreamy look.

Triangle Lake Bog State Nature Preserve, Portage County, Ohio, in the rain. This is from June of this year. I had met a friend here, and we planned on exploring the bog's wonders. But it was a day marked by downpours punctuated by brief rainless interludes. During one of those respites from the rain, we circled the boardwalk, but I didn't want to bring any of my camera gear for fear of getting caught in a deluge. So, this image was made with my iPhone 5S camera. Not bad for a camera phone.

A technicolor late fall day on the prairie; Killdeer Plains Wildlife Area, Wyandot County, Ohio. I liked the interplay between the blue sky and the waters of the pond, and framed the image to try and make one complement the other. The presence of the big white fluffy cumulus clouds was a bonus. When making images in such a situation, it is well worth while waiting until a particularly pleasing cloud drifts into position. Also, when presented with such a beautiful sky and light, it is good to make sure that much of the sky is captured in the shot. This photo would adhere well to the rule of thirds. Revisit the previous photo with the gray stormy sky. In that case, I only included as much sky as necessary. The shot was taken with the Canon 5D Mark III, 17-40 f/4 lens at a focal length of 26 mm, f/11, 1/250 shutter speed, and ISO of 100.

Botanical nuggets of gold, hundreds of Lakeside Daisies, Tetraneuris herbacea, stretch into the distance. This photo was made at the Lakeside Daisy State Nature Preserve in Ottawa County, Ohio. This landscape, at least in mid-May when the daisies are peak, offers myriad possibilities when it comes to composition. While this shot is a vertical, horizontal compositions can be even more striking. I wanted to give the impression of depth, though, and felt that the vertical frame better provided that. This shot was made with the Canon 5D Mark III, 17-40 f/4 lens at a focal length of 17 mm, f/11, 1/250 shutter speed, and ISO 200.

October 25, 2014 was a fine day to be outdoors, and that's when I made this image. It was taken along the trail to Buzzardroost Rock in the sprawling Edge of Appalachia Preserve in Adams County, Ohio. Many trees were at peak color, and progress was slow as I scanned for the "perfect" fall leaf color composition. This group of hickories, maples, and oaks grabbed my eye, and I ended up lying on my back in the leaf litter to gain what I thought was the best perspective. The shot was made with the Canon 5D Mark III and my trusty 17-40L wide-angle landscape lens with a focal length of 17 mm. A lens that is capable of a 17 or 18 mm focal length for an ultra wide-angle perspective is a must for certain landscape portraits. The settings for this shot were f/8, 1/200 shutter speed, and ISO of 100.

Kent Bog State Nature Preserve, Portage County, Ohio. Normally I don't like sticking a boardwalk, roadway, or other "line" straight down the middle of a photograph. In this case, I liked the effect. The pale-barked Gray Birch, Betula populifolia, look as if they are recoiling from the planks' intrusion. The birch's spent yellow leaves provide aesthetically pleasing litter on the trail. This was another day of rain and terrible light, so by pointing the wide-angle lens nearly at my feet, I could begin the shot near the observer, carry off into the distance, and still minimize the role of the leaden skies. This was taken with the Canon 5D Mark III at f/8, 1/320, and ISO 400 with the lens at a focal length of 17 mm.

This shot was made elsewhere on Kent Bog's boardwalk, on the same day as the previous shot. I thought that the kink in this section of boardwalk broke an otherwise straight line, and created interest. As I moved around and scanned perspectives through the viewfinder, that patch of emerald moss at the base of the oak caught my eye. The brilliant red leaves of a Red Maple, Acer rubrum, were fortuitously located directly in front of the oak's trunk. The image was made with my 5D, f/8, 1/80, and ISO 400. I used my Tamron 70-200mm f/2.8 lens. That lens is an awesome piece of hardware, and works great for capturing landscapes in a much different way than a wide-angle. Its focal length was set to 70 mm for this picture.

While possibly not the greatest of shots, I like it. A squadron of Sandhill Cranes flies against an insanely colorful Indiana sunset at Jasper Pulaski Wildlife Refuge in Indiana last month. The day had been mostly gray, cloudy, and dreary. For a brief interlude at day's end, the sun lit up the clouds and painted the western sky a riot of warm colors. There was only a few minutes when it looked like this, and precious little opportunity to click off a few shots when cranes were positioned properly. This one was made with my 5D bolted to the spectacular 500 f/4 II telephoto lens, set to f/11, 1/500, and ISO 6400. Those cranes were probably 1/3rd of a mile distant.

On November 18, I was freezing in the parking lot by the Eastlake Power Plant on Lake Erie, taking photo after photo of flying gulls. The temperature was in the teens, it was towards day's end, and light was fading fast. I was shooting away from the sun, for better light on the birds. Finally I glanced back to the west, and saw this. Gale force winds were pulverizing waves against a distant breakwall, blowing surf 20 to 30 feet in the air. Wave crests were atomizing against the ferocious wind, and everything was lit orange and yellow by the setting sun. Gulls, unperturbed as always by weather that would kill you or me in minutes if unprotected, added another element to the landscape.

When I noticed the spectacular interplay of water, light, and birds, my camera was mounted on a tripod and rigged with the 500mm telephoto. I rushed to change over to the Tamron 70-200mm, and in the five or so minutes when things looked like this, clicked off dozens of images. The waves and position of the gulls would change by the second, and I was trying to get shots as dramatic as possible, especially trying for images that captured massive eruptions of water as a wave collided with the breakwall. It isn't often that one lucks into such a dramatic scene, and it was well worth dealing with the tough weather to experience this. For this shot, it was the 5D with aforementioned 70-200 lens set to a 95mm focal length, f/7.1, 1/320, and ISO 2000.

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Turkey Vulture

December 25, 2014, 6:06 pm

≫ Next: Miscellaneous birds

≪ Previous: Some Midwestern Landscapes

I always have scads of images in reserve, most of which never appear here. This series of Turkey Vulture photos was among them. I liked the way the shots came out, and as this is one of my favorite birds, I could not go without sharing them. And what better day to do so than on Christmas, in spite of the possibility of perceived symbolism.

The images were made at the Wilds back in November. The vulture was quite cooperative, but I was using the car as a blind and shooting out the window. Had I been on foot, the vulture would not have let me get near this close. I like the "bokeh" effect of the shots. Bokeh is modified from the Japanese word boke, which basically means blur, and refers to the quality of an image's background.

In the case of these images, the pleasing (to me, at least) gray-green background is the aggregate of fields of browning fescue grasses, interspersed with occasional autumn-olive shrubs. The images were made with Canon's 500mm f/4 II, with 1.4 teleconverter, which makes for a focal length of 700mm. The depth of field with this setup is quite shallow, hence the pleasing bokeh.

A face only a mother vulture could love, but that ugly mug is efficient. Turkey Vultures are strict carrion eaters, and their fare is often rather messy. It is easier to keep a face of bare skin clean than would be the case of it were densely feathered.

Note the massive nostril. Vultures find their food by sense of smell, and they're quite accomplished in the olfactory department. Even malodorous carcasses that are hidden from view are unerringly keyed in on.

One could write a book about just this species of vulture, as they have so many interesting facets to their lives. For me, as a young lad, Turkey Vultures were an endless source of fascination. I would lie on my back under big blue skies and watch them trace lazy loops high in the ether. Their flight is effortless, often not involving as much as a flap of the wings for many minutes on end. I thought that, if one had the opportunity to be a bird, Cathartes aura might not be a bad choice. Yes, the menu might leave something to be desired, but that's just the egocentric take of Homo sapiens. To the vulture, a fermenting opossum is t-bone steak.

All or nearly all vultures in my central Ohio neck of the woods have fled south for the winter. But it won't be long and they'll be returning in force. The Turkey Vulture is an early harbinger-of-spring, riding back into town on the first mild winds of late February, their appearance a precursor of an ever-increasing cascade of vernal migrants.

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Miscellaneous birds

January 2, 2015, 7:06 pm

≫ Next: Excellent new Native Fishes of Ohio book

≪ Previous: Turkey Vulture

This old farm in Adams County, Ohio was where I started my New Year's Day, bright and early. My primary intent was to submerge into the vast Shawnee State Forest, which is in neighboring Scioto County, and shoot (with camera) birds. But when word got out that a Loggerhead Shrike had been frequenting this farm, I had to start here.

Looking every bit El Bandido, the Loggerhead Shrike glares at the camera. If you are nearly any animal smaller than, or even up to the size of a shrike, you do not want to be affixed with this gaze. Our most predatory songbirds, shrikes capture, kill, and make mincemeat of other vertebrates.

The only person there when I arrived was the ubiquitous and widely traveled Carlton Schooley. He had seen the shrike from afar before I arrived. I hadn't been there but ten minutes or so when the cooperative bird flew right in, and landed on a wire close at hand. It was almost as if it wanted to be admired, and admire we did.

Loggerhead Shrikes were once fairly common and widespread in Ohio, but now are among our rarest birds. Only one or a few are reported annually. Adams County produces the most reports, and insofar as I know, the only recent breeding records have come from this county. I hadn't seen a Loggerhead in the state for a number of years, and needless to say was quite pleased to share this animal's company for a bit.

After some time spent communing with the shrike, it was eastward bound and into Shawnee State Forest. My game plan was to look for mixed flocks of wintering songbirds, infiltrate their edges, and try for photos of whatever I might find.

I was not alone in this game plan. This juvenile Red-shouldered Hawk was watching over a weedy, temporarily drained lake bed that was full of sparrows. I suppose the big raptor was lusting after sparrow meat, but it'd probably be a fat chance that this hawk would fly down a nimble sparrow. The raptor didn't much object to me, and distance was no problem for making images. Obstructions were. It would be nice if all of those intervening branches weren't in the way, but there was nothing to be done. The best that I could do was move until the raptor's eye was free and clear, which improved the shot. With animals, always shoot for the eye.

This Song Sparrow is one of dozens that fed on an abundant seed crop on the lake bed below the hawk. Also mixed in were Swamp and White-throated sparrows. Sparrows are habitually inquisitive, and it took just a few pishes and squeaks from me to send many of them to lookout perches.

Rather than take just a plain mug shot, it is best to wait until a bird shifts into a more interesting posture, if possible. Finally this sparrow looked over its shoulder, giving me a better pose, and I fired away.

This is a case where knowledge of your quarry helps immensely. Just heading afield, camera in tow, will probably yield some opportunities. But by knowing your prey and its habits, one greatly ups the ante in regards to capturing more subjects.

I got out of my car near a small meadow surrounded by forest, and was greeted by the soft warbles of Eastern Bluebirds. Very good, I would be happy to make bluebird images. However, their presence also likely meant fruit was at hand, and sure enough there was a bunch of fruiting staghorn sumac at the back of the field. I worked my way back there, and it wasn't long before I heard the soft chuck note of this Hermit Thrush. A few imitations of his call, and the thrush came out to investigate.

Flocks of fruit-eating birds are always worthy of a closer look. Often, other frugivorous bird species, like this thrush, will be amongst their ranks.

Much easier to detect than the thrush was this little motormouth, the Carolina Wren. It and its mate made no secret of their distaste at my intrusion, scolding, making their incredible rattlesnake imitations, and even occasionally breaking into a loud clear Tea-Kettle Tea-Kettle song.

Wrens are busybodies, and quick to chastise anyone or anything that displeases them.

At one point I heard the thin lisping tsee-tsee-tsee of Golden-crowned Kinglets, and of course instantly braked. I brake for kinglets. Hopping from the vehicle, I realized that a platoon of four kinglets were working the trees and shrubs.

This is a truly elfin songbird; at only 6 grams, it is our smallest (in Ohio) passerine. A kinglet weighs less than two Ruby-throated Hummingbirds (which is not a songbird), and that's really small. What's more amazing is that kinglets are almost entirely insectivorous, but they ride out winters in Ohio, and even points well to our north.

A kinglet's bright little eye reflects the life of a creature filled with the energy and inner fortitude to survive brutal winters. I was flattered to be the object of its attention, fleeting as it was.

Kinglets have no time to trifle with foolish humans. It is work, work, work. Golden-crowned Kinglets must harvest a considerable percentage of their bodyweight in tiny invertebrate prey each day in order to stoke the fires and keep up their metabolism.

Where, you might rightly ask, are all of these insects in winter? How do the kinglets, clever and industrious as they may be, find them?

I'll delve more into that mystery a bit later. Suffice to say that our trees and shrubs are not lacking in spiders, caterpillars, stoneflies and other insects, even in the dead of winter. Kinglets are extremely adept at finding them, and thus reduce the need to make perilous long distance migrations as nearly all of our other highly insectivorous songbirds must.

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Excellent new Native Fishes of Ohio book

January 4, 2015, 6:20 pm

≫ Next: Tree & Shrub Workshop: February 28

≪ Previous: Miscellaneous birds

COLUMBUS DISPATCH
January 4, 2015

NATURE
Jim McCormac

Book about way more than bass

About half of the world’s more than 62,000 species of vertebrate animals are mostly hidden from view — the fishes, which live in a watery world largely off-limits to people.

The aquatic community is one of mystery; its secrets are only occasionally revealed to the casual observer.

Dan Rice and Gary Meszaros are hardly strangers to aquatic ecosystems. Both men have spent decades surveying Ohio’s fishes, in every corner of the state. They have paired to produce a beautiful new book, Native Fishes of Ohio (Kent State University, 113 pages, $24.95). Their project shines a light on Ohio’s stunning fish fauna in a way that no previous work has managed.

Rice spent much of his career as a zoologist with the Ohio Department of Natural Resources and dedicated much of his time to surveying Ohio’s fishes. Meszaros, a retired teacher, has been photographing natural history for almost four decades.

Their pairing was the perfect combination to produce this outstanding book. Rice’s intimate knowledge of all aspects of the state’s fishes comes across in the text, and Meszaros’ incomparable photos provide visual pizazz.

Native Fishes of Ohio features 156 color photos spread throughout its pages. The images alone are worth the price. Paging through the book is like viewing the inhabitants of a sophisticated zoo’s aquarium, except that these denizens all occupy Ohio’s wild waters.

I won’t reveal photographic trade secrets, but a lot of knowledge and hard work — far beyond what is required of most photographic styles — goes into making images such as these. Seldom has a book featured such stunning photos of live fish.

The book pictures 124 species — including everything a person is likely to encounter, as well as many rarities. About 146 species are known to occur in the state, but those not pictured are so rare that few people would ever encounter them.

The book is divided into 11 chapters that break Ohio’s fishes into groups. Clever chapter subtitles pique interest, such as “Darters: A Rainbow of Colors” or “Catfish: Night Stalkers.”

Each chapter introduction gives a robust overview of the family or families in question, peppered with habitat information, status in Ohio and behaviors. Following the introduction, photos are captioned with statements about the fish.

Native Fishes of Ohio opens a portal to a fascinating subsurface world that few people know well. Even seasoned fishermen will be surprised at what lives beneath their boat. I highly recommend the book.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a biweekly column for The Dispatch. He also writes about nature at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com.

Redside Dace, photo by Gary Meszaros

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Tree & Shrub Workshop: February 28

January 8, 2015, 6:57 pm

≫ Next: Update: Tree & Shrub Workshop

≪ Previous: Excellent new Native Fishes of Ohio book

The expansive Army Corps of Engineers Visitor Center at Caesar Creek Lake in Warren County, Ohio. This building, and its location, is picture-perfect for hosting natural history events. And it is here where an interesting Tree & Shrub Workshop will take place on Saturday, February 28 from 9 am to 3:30 pm. The event is hosted by the Midwest Native Plant Society, the outfit that brings us the annual Midwest Native Plant Conference in Dayton. CLICK HERE for full details on the Tree & Shrub Workshop.

The Visitor's Center is conveniently located near Interstate 71, a couple of stone's throws north of Cincinnati and only about an hour's drive from Columbus. CLICK HERE for more info about the center and Caesar Creek. As an added bonus, great habitat abounds within minutes of the center. We'll of course have some field trips following the speaker portion of the event. Those who are so inclined can stay for the dusk American Woodcock extravaganza. There is a great courtship field a few minutes from the center, and these comical sandpipers - our only woodland-breeding sandpiper! - should be back and doing their sky dances.

A gargantuan Tuliptree, Liriodendron tulipifera, reaches for the sky. Ohio hosts some 220 species of native woody plants, but not all of them attain this sort of mass. Size aside, all of our shrubs and trees play an inordinately important role in ecosystems, and support an enormous array of animals.

An absolutely striking shrub that would be at home in any garden, formal or "natural", is the Ninebark, Physocarpus opulifolius.This native member of the rose family looks good at any season, and when in flower is dynamite for pollinating insects.

Four speakers will fill the morning and early afternoon: Casey Burdick of the Ohio Division of Forestry; Brian Jorg of the Cincinnati Zoo; Solomon Gamboa of Pioneer Landscapes LLC; and yours truly, the driver of this blog.

A Blue-headed Vireo weaves her ornate cup into the forked twig of a Red Maple, Acer rubrum. As you likely know, the majority of our nesting songbirds depend upon woody plants as the structural support for their nests. This is just one of scores of important roles played by trees and shrubs.

A tasty little inchworm, the Maple Spanworm, Ennomos magnaria, locomotes along a twig. Birds love inchworms - for food - and you can be assured that the vireo in the preceding shot would make a meal of this larva in a New York second were the bird to spot it.

Trees and shrubs grow the lion's share of caterpillars, at least in this part of the world. Producing scads of tubular moth and butterfly larvae is vital, and is one of the most important ecological roles that woody plants perform. Without lots and lots of caterpillars, we'd not have all of our beautiful songbirds. The overarching ecological roles played by woody plants is the gist of my talk, which is entitled Ohio's Botanical Workhorses: Trees and Shrubs. Solomon Gamboa and Brian Jorg will discuss in detail the best species of plants for yardscapes, and how to best make them grow.

Trees seem to be under constant siege by an over-growing cast of introduced insect pests, such as the emerald ash borer that killed the Green Ash in this photo. Casey Burdick of the Ohio Division of Forestry will provide an interesting and important talk about who is killing who in the world of trees, and what is being done about it.

The event's organizer, Kathy McDonald, has also organized an all-star cast of characters to lead the post-conference field trips. This is sure to be a fun and informative day, and your $35.00 admission fee even includes lunch.

Sign on soon, these workshops often fill up. This one is an especially good way to usher in spring with an informative blend of education and field work. All of the details, including registration info, are RIGHT HERE.

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Update: Tree & Shrub Workshop

January 12, 2015, 4:27 pm

≫ Next: Lapland Longspurs, galore!

≪ Previous: Tree & Shrub Workshop: February 28

In my last post, I announced the upcoming Tree & Shrub Workshop to be held Saturday, February 28 at the Caesar Creek Lake Visitor Center in Warren County. For details, either scroll down to the last post, or CLICK HERE.

Chief organizer Kathy McDonald told us today that we already have 73 people, including paid attendees and helpers/speakers. Wow, that didn't take long. We had originally planned on about 75 people, but can expand to comfortably accommodate at least a few dozen more. We want everyone to learn more about woody plants, have fun hanging around like-minded people, and enjoy some interesting field trips.

So, should this sound of interest, get your registration in soon. We'd love to have you. Just CLICK HERE for registration info.

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Lapland Longspurs, galore!

January 14, 2015, 7:22 pm

≫ Next: Annual winter Raptor Day at the Wilds

≪ Previous: Update: Tree & Shrub Workshop

A flurry of Lapland Longspurs noshes on specially ground cracked corn. All birds should have it so good.

Last winter - the "polar vortex" freezeout - I wrote about a fantastical place in Delaware County, Ohio that hosted thousands, and thousands, of Snow Buntings. That post is RIGHT HERE. The birds' hosts are Mike and Becky Jordan, and they have the art of attracting birds of wide open spaces down to a science. Scatter some 50 lbs. of cracked corn (a day!!) along the driveway and other select spots, and sit back and watch the show. Their farmhouse is surrounded by big fields, and when the longspurs, buntings, and Horned Larks aren't out there somewhere, they're visiting the Jordans.

A handsome male Lapland Longspur alertly watches his surroundings. He is preparing to make his way to the yellow windrows of corn that trace the Jordans' long driveway.

I made my way to Mike and Becky's place last Sunday, after receiving reports of hundreds of longspurs. The winter has not yet been brutal enough to drive in the hardier Snow Buntings, but just wait. The buntings tend to arrive after extended deep snow cover, and even more larks and longspurs will come in then as well.

As soon as I approached the driveway I saw perhaps a couple hundred longspurs and larks. In I went, and spent a pleasurable few hours watching the birds, making some photos, and catching up with the Jordans. The only lamentable point of the day was the weather. It was cold, which bothers me not a whit, but the sky was the all too typical leaden gray of an Ohio winter. Pair that with white snow on the ground, and capturing vibrant images of birds becomes quite tough. A blue sky can really make them pop. But one takes what one gets.

A pair of longspurs rockets by. The flocks are always on edge, their twitchiness in large part due to the ever-present threat of raptors. Birds will explode into the air for no apparent reason, swirl about, and settle back in. Sometimes the reason is very apparent, such as when a female Sharp-shinned Hawk winged into the yard and sat for a bit in one of the silver maples. Northern Harriers, Cooper's Hawks, American Kestrels, and even buteos such as Red-tailed and Rough-legged hawks have learned that potential meals are here, and make regular visits.

While a few Snow Buntings have been present off and on, none were in evidence during my visit. However, lots of Horned Larks were. Larks, buntings, and longspurs form the Big Three of mixed flocks in open country in this part of the world.

Typical views of Horned Larks are of small mousy brown birds flushed from the verges of country roads as one whips by in the auto. Watch the fleeing birds closely, and you'll see the contrasting black tail of the lark - a surefire field mark. One of the great things about visiting the Jordan's uber feeding station is the close proximity of the birds. Actually seeing the namesake horns of a Horned Lark is usually not very easy.

Mike and Becky are exceptionally gracious to birders that wish to visit. Last year they hosted about 1,000 people from Ohio and many other states. Mike cast out about 2.5 tons (Tons, with a T!) of cracked corn last winter!

Best conditions occur when there is enough snow on the ground to fully cover the soil. Forecasters aren't calling for any of the white stuff for a few days, but this being Ohio one never knows what Mother Nature will throw our way. I'm sure great bunting/lark/longspur conditions will arise before too long, though.

If you would like Mike and Becky's contact information, send me an email: jimmccormac35 AT gmail.com. I'll pass it along with some other helpful tips.

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Annual winter Raptor Day at the Wilds

January 18, 2015, 4:44 pm

≫ Next: The bizarre world of the supranivean zone (snow insects)

≪ Previous: Lapland Longspurs, galore!

Our group pauses along a little-traveled road through wide open spaces on American Electric Power land bordering the Wilds. We were looking for various raptors, Short-eared Owls, and whatever might come along.

Yesterday was the 11th annual Ohio Ornithological Society field trip to the Wilds. The OOS began this traditional field trip soon after its founding in 2004, and it has remained wildly popular. About 120 birders from all over the state showed up yesterday, and that's the maximum number that can be handled. It's been like that about every year. The only one that I can recall significant numbers of no-shows was the year that the thermometer read -12 F (MINUS TWELVE) at the rendezvous site in the morning. About 30 or so people decided to skip out that time.

Frigid temperatures were not an issue yesterday. The thermometer rose to a balmy 51 degrees at the high point. As always, the day was great fun, and thanks to the OOS, all of the field trip leaders (eight separate groups), and especially Randy Rogers for tackling organization. Oh and of course - the staff at the Wilds for graciously opening their doors to us at a time of year when they're normally shut down to the public.

As is often the case when I'm leading groups, the camera gear remains stowed in the trunk. There's just no time to click off lots of photos, so we'll have to make due with some iPhone shots for this post.

I've only missed one of these events, I think, and yesterday's was probably the best, at least for our group. Here, a bunch of excited people ogle a Golden Eagle that put on a show over the distant fields. We had the bird in the scopes, and everyone enjoyed watching a pair of Rough-legged Hawks strafing the much larger bird.

Scott Albaugh and company found a Wilson's Snipe in a seepage outflow, and provided us with that intelligence after lunch. Our group headed there, traversing an extremely pitted and muddy road, and managed to locate two snipe - not bad for mid-January in Ohio.

Our group, which changed form a bit throughout the day, awaits the flight of the Short-eared Owl at day's end. This is a tradition. We only saw one distant bird, and then another practically hit my car on the way out. We had lots of nice sightings over the course of the day, though, including excellent looks at other raptors. I don't know what the final collective tally of species was, but it may have been a record.

The OOS winter trip to the Wilds would not be complete without a foray into the rhino house. This baby Southern White Rhino is only about two months old, and is dwarfed by his nearly two ton mother as he nurses. The youngster absolutely loves attention from people, and he was on cloud nine yesterday as scores of birders oohed and aahed over the leathery little fellow.

I believe the date of next year's OOS/Wilds trip has been set: January 16. Try and make it; you're sure to have a good time.

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The bizarre world of the supranivean zone (snow insects)

January 25, 2015, 9:50 am

≫ Next: Wildlife Diversity Conference: March 11

≪ Previous: Annual winter Raptor Day at the Wilds

Yesterday was a work day, more or less. I left before the crack of dawn to meet other planning committee members who are involved with organizing Mothapalooza. We spent a good chunk of the day at the Eulett Center in Adams County tightening down various nuts and bolts before opening registration in a few weeks. Special thanks to Mary Ann Barnett for ably overseeing this event, and efficiently running yesterday's meeting. This will be our third Mothapalooza, and you'll not want to miss it. CLICK HERE for a brief recap of the last one. I'll let you know when registration opens.

As I entered the Pike County region on my way south, the landscape transformed into a winter wonderland. A soft blanket of snow capped every twig, branch, and other structure, creating stunning vistas at every turn. Fortunately, I had built in some extra time, and stopped at a particularly photogenic locale to make some landscape images.

The persistent calyces of witch-hazel, Hamamelis virginiana, surrounded by icy snow caps.

After all was said and done with Mothapalooza planning, I joined David and Laura Hughes for what would be a very interesting adventure. Even though we had little more than two hours before dusk settled, we made the most of it and found lots of REALLY WEIRD STUFF.

Our destination was wooded terraces along this creek in the heart of Shawnee State Forest. Several inches of snow covered the ground in most areas, and the temperature hovered around the freezing mark (32 F),

Our targets were animals that live in the supranivean zone. Supra = above; Nivea; Latin for snow. In other words, animals that live on the surface of the snow. Below the snow are scores of subnivean creatures overwintering in the leaf litter and various recesses, sheltered from the exposed elements of weather on the snow's surface. We did not dig down to investigate the subniveans; our goal was to find the ultra tough invertebrates of the supranivean world.

The little black dashes on the snow in the above photo are springtails (species unknown). They were everywhere, scads and scads of them. Perhaps the best known of the winter springtails are the so-called snow fleas; CLICK HERE for a post about those.

A winter stonefly rests on the surface of the snow. Note the tiny springtail between the stonefly's antennae. The stoneflies were quite frequent yesterday.

As always, a trip afield with the Hughes is eye-opening and educational. Both Laura and David have powers of observation that far transcend that of the average person. Their ability to locate strange, interesting, and often ultra-Lilliputian beasts is remarkable. Laura is smitten with aspects of entomology that are poorly known, and she has become nearly encyclopedic in her stores of knowledge. Thanks to her, David and I became quite fired up to find and see the hardy animals presented herein.

A wingless wasp strolls the icy surface. In spite of the cold temperatures, this animal and everything else that we encountered were quite active. While insects may be largely thought of as animals of warm seasons, and most are, there is a trove of six-legged critters for which winter is their season. This wasp is one of the species that forms galls in oaks, either in leaves or sometimes in twigs. They have evolved to emerge and reproduce in the dead of winter.

This is another species of wingless oak gall wasps (presumably; we're unsure of the species). It was truly elfin, measuring perhaps 2-3 millimeters. Because of its constant activity, making photos was quite difficult and most were no good. Photographing small insects on snow is challenging. David and I both shoot with Canon 5D Mark III bodies, and use Canon's uber macro lens, the strange MP-E 65 coupled to twin lite flashes. Nonetheless, imaging scurrying little critters on cold snow and constantly shifting and bouncing light is a challenge. For those of you into photography, I find that in general shooting at ISO 100, f/16, and shutter speed of 1/200 works pretty well. Be prepared to bump up the flash intensity significantly as well.

David found this jumping spider, which really surprised us. It was out and active, and one has to wonder if certain predators such as this have also evolved physiological mechanisms that allow them to hunt in conditions far colder than most of their brethren can withstand. If this jumper was indeed hunting, it would appear to have little competition for the scores of stoneflies and other insects on the snow's surface.

And now for the most bizarre of our finds, and an insect that was high on Laura's wish list. Our quarry was a small and poorly known group of winter insects whose larvae - and adults, perhaps - feed on mosses. We spent most of our time hunting and pecking in areas that had plenty of mosses exposed among the snow.

Suddenly Laura let out an excited yell - she had found a snow scorpionfly! If you have any interest in bugs, it isn't hard to see why she - and us - wanted to find one of these things. Bizarre doesn't cover it. Note the long beaklike proboscis, proportionately massive goggle eyes, and strange segmented body. This is a male of the species Boreus nivoriundus, and its wings are reduced to odd comblike extensions used to grasp and hold the female during mating. Snow scorpionflies cannot fly, but as we can attest, they can hop like fleas. Indeed, the group is though to be some sort of missing link between fleas and scorpionflies, and they are placed in the Boreidae family.

This is a female snow scorpionfly. There are thought to be about 30 species of snow scorpionflies, and apparently only two of them occur in Ohio. This is a female of the other species that we're known to have, Boreus brumalis. With a big dose of beginner's luck, I suppose, we found both of them on our inaugural snow scorpionfly hunt. Much thanks to Benjamin Coulter, who identified these species for me.

In spite of her strange appearance, this snow scorpionfly is visually interesting. Her body looks as if it is forged from polished bronze, and she sports a formidable torpedo-like ovipositor. Perhaps she uses that appendage to push her eggs deep into moss beds.

Insects are ectothermic - they cannot generate body heat. In order to prevent the formation of ice crystals within cells, which would spell doom, insects that are exposed to harsh northern winters are supercharged with proteins and chemicals that reduce the freeze point of internal liquids, thus avoiding death by crystallization. Apparently snow scorpionflies and the other animals mentioned in this post have taken the art of supercooling survival to the nth degree.

There are obviously good reasons why some insects emerge in the dead of winter, or they would not have evolved the ability to do so. Possible reasons include predator avoidance - not nearly as many potential enemies would be active in cold air on the snow's surface. However, as the jumping spider potentially demonstrates, there are probably some enemies afoot. Rare indeed would be the situation where a large crop of food is readily available, and no one is there to plunder.

The snow's surface is also a great "single's bar". It would seem to be very easy for males and females to find one another on the stark white surface. There may also be food sources available that wouldn't be present at other times of the year. Also, a winter emergence might allow the insect to lock up its eggs and/or larvae in well concealed places during the rush of the warm seasons, when legions of predators are active.

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Wildlife Diversity Conference: March 11

January 27, 2015, 7:01 pm

≫ Next: Birds in Flight

≪ Previous: The bizarre world of the supranivean zone (snow insects)

Mark your calendars for Wednesday, March 11. That's the date of this year's Ohio Wildlife Diversity Conference, hosted by the Ohio Division of Wildlife. This is the BIG one - about 1,000 nature enthusiasts of all stripes come together for what must be one of the largest one-day natural history conferences anywhere. The conference location couldn't be more convenient - it's in Columbus and right off the freeway at the cavernous Aladdin Shriners' Complex at 3850 Stelzer Road. CLICK HERE to register.

There are exhibitors, artists, vendors, authors, and legions of like-minded people all rooting for nature and conservation. And of course, the talks, which cover a range of subjects. The Division usually unveils some sort of surprise for participants, and this year I do believe there will be two! I can say no more at this point, but let's say that these gifts should serve any natural history buff quite well.

A group of naturalists explores an Adams County prairie, looking for rare mustards and whatever else there is to see. The keynote is Stephen Kellert of the Yale School of Forestry, and his talk is entitled People & Nature in the Modern World. It'll be an interesting and informative perspective of how we - Homo sapiens - interact with Mother Nature. On a somewhat related topic, Jeremy Bruskotter of the Ohio State University will speak about Hunters and Birdwatchers: And the Survey Says... He'll give the latest findings in trends among various groups of outdoors people, and the results might surprise you.

What's not to love about a Hellbender, our largest salamander, which is sometimes affectionately referred to as the "Snot-otter". Herpetologist Kent Bekker of the Toledo Zoo will delve into the mysteries of these endangered animals, and share what is being done to save them.

You may think that I drew the short stick in regards to topics, but I don't think so. I'm giving a talk called Lichens: Crusty Treasure Troves of Biodiversity, with the overarching mission of casting these fungus-algae organisms in the favorable light that they richly deserve. Lichens are fascinating in their own right, but become outright amazing when their innumerable relationships with animals is taken into consideration. The beast above is a Green Lacewing larva, and it adorns its body with lichen bits. So camouflaged, it is adept at sneaking up on prey and slicing and dicing with those ferocious mandibles. And that weird creature is just the tip of the lichen-animal iceberg.

Mute Swans seem to be taking over the world, and pretty though they may be, these invasive birds can do considerable damage in wetland communities. Division of Wildlife biologist Laura Kearns will talk all about large white waterfowl in her presentation, Swan Song: Trumpeters vs. Mutes.

Like tiny Coleopteran dragons, these introduced Multicolored Asian Ladybeetle larvae are ferocious predators. In this photo, two of them bookend a fellow larva, cannibalizing it. Although this introduced species has become quite common, there are numerous other native ladybeetles, and all of them are interesting. Mary Griffith of the Ohio State University Extension Service will elaborate about these fascinating bugs in Lady in Red: Ladybugs and Ladybeetles.

Biologist Geoff Westerfield will give a program entitled Urban Wildlife Resolution: How Can I Help You, and Joe Boggs of the OSU Extension will bring us up to date on a potentially devastating invasive insect in his talk, Asian Longhorned Beetle: The Threat in Black and White.

I hope that you can attend, and if you do I'll wager you'll have a great time. Again, CLICK HERE for registration info.

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Birds in Flight

February 1, 2015, 9:47 pm

≫ Next: Horticulture Symposium: The Living Landscape

≪ Previous: Wildlife Diversity Conference: March 11

Yesterday was a rare blue (mostly) sky day here in wintertime central Ohio, and I took the opportunity to go to some local hotspots and point the camera skyward. While I took a lot of shots of many different things - nearly 1,000 images, most of which got chucked into the digital dust bin - I found that I was somewhat fixated on flying birds.

Shooting birds in flight isn't very easy, and requires purposeful adjustments to the camera, among other tactics. Following are a few images from yesterday, with some info on how each was made.

An adult Ring-billed Gull gives the photographer a sideways glance from up in the blue ether. Gulls are always great practice for aspiring birds in flight photographers. They're big, often fly rather languidly, and sometimes nearly float in place. Plus, they are often rather predictable in their movements, which allows the photographer to prepare for the moment when the subject enters optimal air space.

All the shots in this post were made with a Canon 5D Mark III hooked to a Canon 500 mm f/4 II, along with a 1.4 teleconverter, which transforms the lens into a 700 mm. That's a really good setup for flying birds, but great results can be had even with higher end point & shoot bridge cameras. The settings used for this gull photo were: 1/3200 shutter speed; f/5.6; and ISO 320. For flying birds, it is almost always best to use a VERY fast shutter speed. At the beginning of the learning curve, it's probably best to set your camera to shutter priority, and let the camera select the f-stop and ISO. On a bright sunny day, very quick shutter speeds can be used, with little penalty in the ISO department.

Large lumbering birds such as this Great Blue Heron make for fairly easy flying targets.With lots of species of birds in flight, a clear blue sky background with the light coming from behind makes for an excellent backdrop. In the case of this heron, the distant brown shrubs and trees makes for a nice background. This shot was made at 1/2500; f/5.6; and ISO 640.

When shooting a flying bird, you want to pick it up in the camera as far out as possible, and track it as it moves (hopefully) closer. When it enters striking distance, begin depressing the shutter and keep smoothly tracking the bird as you fire off shots. Ideally you'll have your camera set to burst mode. This means that as long as you have your finger depressing the shutter button, the camera will keep firing shots. Burst rates vary between cameras, but mine is six shots a second. "Bursting" a flying target greatly increases your odds of a sharp image.

A pair of Rock Pigeons rockets by. Pigeons are extraordinary flyers, and appear deceptively slow. They're not - these birds were probably doing 40-50 mph. I am an unabashed pigeon enthusiast (SEE HERE), and I think this shot shows the beauty of this species. As I was tracking the birds, firing off rapid bursts of shots, the blurred pigeon in the foreground was gaining and ended up photo-bombing the other bird in this shot, which was my target. Although I have other shots of one crisp bird, I like this one for some reason. Camera parameters were 1/3200; f/5.6; and ISO 250.

Another tip, at least for DSLR shooters, is to use Al-Servo shooting mode. Al-Servo allows the focus to constantly adjust to moving targets, so as you hold the shutter button down, the focus constantly updates to compensate for the target's changing distance. In tandem with Al-Servo, a huge positive change is shifting your camera to back button focusing. Basically, the way my camera is set up, the typical shutter button that is on the front of the camera and deployed by one's right index finger only trips the shutter. Nothing else. The focus and exposure compensation is controlled by one of the buttons at the top right rear of the camera, and this button is deployed with the right thumb. There are many advantages to this system, and I think that most DSLR cameras will allow it. Google "back button focus" and "Al-Servo mode" to learn more.

A Cooper's Hawk explodes through the brush. This shot was taken at Mike and Becky Jordan's place in Delaware County - home of the famous lark/bunting/longspur flocks (CLICK HERE). As we watched throngs of Horned Larks, the hawk ripped through the yard and landed in a thick patch of brush. Lots of House Sparrows and other songbirds frequent the thicket and adjacent garden, and Senor Cooper was intent on making a meal of one. I moved a bit closer and got into a good position, fixed the camera on the raptor, and waited until it flew. When it finally did, I was ready and hit the shutter while tracking the bird as smoothly as possible. I only got two images in which the bird was fully in the frame, but both came out quite nicely. The camera was set to 1/3200; f/5.6; and ISO 400.

One grim reality of making crisp in flight bird shots is the need for a decent tripod. I don't like lugging tripods around, and generally only do so if I'm birding in a situation where I need/want my scope, or if I know I am going to be specifically focusing on shooting images of birds. All of the shots presented here were shot with a Manfrotto tripod and an Induro head. The latter is an especially fluid swivel mount that the camera sits on, and it allows for buttery smooth travel.

The smaller the target, the more difficult getting a clear in-flight shot becomes. Songbirds, such as these Horned Larks, can be quite difficult to pick up and track as they rocket about. I often just set up on a flock, and pull the trigger when I see incoming birds, as was the case here. The very fast shutter speed froze the lark in flight. I also wait until something spooks a feeding flock, which usually doesn't take long, and then try to burst off shots while doing my best to track the birds as they fly away. This one was made at 1/3200; f/5.6; and ISO 250. When light is abundant, I like to shoot at 1/3200, as that is usually plenty fast enough to freeze moving birds, but still allows the ISO to remain low, thus keeping image quality at a high level.

Everyone, it seems, has a camera these days and the quality of shots of birds that I see is routinely amazing. Lots of great images are made with all manner of cameras, from good point & shoot bridge cameras to high end Nikon, Canon and other DSLR's. One way to try and stand out from the crowd is to shoot your subjects in poses that most people don't, such as on the wing.

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Horticulture Symposium: The Living Landscape

February 2, 2015, 9:27 pm

≫ Next: Heron inhales large fish

≪ Previous: Birds in Flight

On Saturday, February 21, the Indianapolis Museum of Art will host an interesting event that's all about native plants: Horticulture Symposium: The Living Landscape. For all details and registration info, CLICK HERE.

I will assure you that this will be a fun, informative, and interesting day. For one, the event is nestled within a truly world class art museum that boasts some 54,000 individual works in its collection. There are always major exhibits; CLICK HERE for a roster of current exhibitions. I became connected with the museum in 2013, when I was invited to come and give a pictorial lecture entitled Nature as Art. Perhaps the most impressive aspect of the museum, to me, is their living collections. The museum sits on 150 acres of grounds, and the plants - and animals - found there are treated as living art. Thanks in large part to the hard work and vision of Chad Franer, the grounds are heavily planted with native species.

And that's the theme of this symposium - native plants. The keynote is none other than the dean of native plants, Dr. Doug Tallamy. The symposium borrowed its title from Doug's latest book, coauthored with Rick Darke: The Living Landscape. In it, the authors lay out a plan for creating beautiful landscapes that foster a rich environment for native fauna. Those of you that attended last year's Midwest Native Plant Conference in Dayton heard Rick Darke's slant on the book. This symposium offers a chance to hear Doug's views on the same. Having heard Doug numerous times, I guarantee the talk will be outstanding.

Kevin Tungesvick will offer a program entitled Native Plants from Around Indiana, and it's sure to be full of useful information for those seeking to enrich the yardscape with beautiful natives. Irvin Etienne will give a talk labeled Nativars - Strangers in a Strange Land. We'll get the lowdown on what the horticultural industry is doing to manipulate - hopefully for good - our native plants.

And yours truly will present For the Birds, a look at some of the interesting avian visitors to Midwestern backyards, what we can do to help them, and how suburban plots can factor into a larger picture of bird conservation. Illustrated liberally with tasty photos, of course.

Again, CLICK HERE for full conference details, and I hope that you can make it out.

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Heron inhales large fish

February 3, 2015, 7:24 pm

≫ Next: OSU Museum Open House! This Saturday!

≪ Previous: Horticulture Symposium: The Living Landscape

The tail waters of Hoover Reservoir in northern Franklin County. The dam impounds a large reservoir that extends north into Delaware County, and when it freezes, the open waters below the dam teem with birds. A brief stop here last Saturday produced some interesting observations, but none bested the hungry heron that follows.

As the torrential outflow from the dam always keeps some water open, hardy Great Blue Herons overwinter here. There are usually at least a half-dozen or so at any time. Lots of fish get sucked through the dam's tunnels, and are expelled relatively unharmed in the basin below the dam. They make for easy pickings for the herons, and the bird above is stalking fish.

It didn't take long for the heron to spot prey, and quicker than you might think possible, he was out in deep water and instantly bagged a good one.That's a hefty white bass, Morone chrysops, in its bill, and it hardly seems possible that the bird could swallow that thing.

Apparently the heron wanted to deal with its piscine prey on firmer ground, so it swam ducklike back to the cement skirt of the catch basin. Only to be greeted by an aggressive heron that seemed to be making overtures towards its hard won catch.

A few shakes of those massive wings, probably accompanied by some Neanderthal grunts, and the would-be aggressor was sent packing.

Now the fun begins. The heron deftly shakes and quivers the fish into proper swallowing position, which is headfirst. The fish is very much alive, and probably had other plans for its day; plans that didn't include being swallowed alive by some gargantuan, primitive sushi-spearer. Note the bass's dorsal fin, which is stiffly extended and webbed with hard sharp spines. The fin folds backward - if the heron didn't swallow the fish headfirst, it would have no chance of gagging the thing down. The dorsal spines would tear into its throat, probably causing damage and certainly impeding progress.

It didn't take long for the skilled fisherbird to suck the bass into its gullet. The outline of the fish's head and half its body is clearly seen silhouetted through the bird's throat. What a way to go. If you're a white bass, don't go getting yourself sucked through Hoover Dam and into the tail waters. As rough and unwanted a trip as that would be, this fate is worse.

No escape for the bass now. It hardly seems possible that a heron could swallow a fish that large, but I've seen them successfully put down significantly larger fish.

An extended neck is the only evidence that the fish once was.

A happy little burp, and game over: heron 1 - fish - 0. After being dissolved by caustic gastric acids in the heron's digestive tract, what's left of the bass will later be projectile-sprayed from the bird's posterior in a showy display of fecal fluming.

Ah, Nature. Brutal as it may be, you gotta love it.

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OSU Museum Open House! This Saturday!

February 5, 2015, 8:35 am

≫ Next: Rough-legged Hawk

≪ Previous: Heron inhales large fish

If you're looking for a fascinating way to spend part of a day - and who isn't? - stop by the Ohio State University Museum of Biological Diversity this Saturday, February 7. From 10am to 4pm, the museum's doors will be open to all; a rare opportunity to visit the fascinating collections that reside within.

The museum's contents are robust. Get a load of these figures:

Mites & ticks (acarology): well over one million specimens
Bioacoustics (sound recordings): over 40,000 - mostly birds, but also insects, mammals, amphibians, reptiles, and fish (yes, fish!)
C.A. Triplehorn Insect Collection: over 3.5 million (Million!) specimens (this is worth the visit alone)
Fishes: 10's of thousands, I think
Herbarium (plants): about 500,000
Molluscs: nearly 100,000
Birds, mammals, amphibians, reptiles (tetrapods): over 2,000 species

Not only will you get to see all manner of strange and bizarre stuff you never knew existed, the museum's experts - some of the best in the world - will be on hand to answer your every question. Adding to the allure is this year's theme: venoms and poisons! Who wouldn't want to learn more about Nature's deadly toxins, in a safe, fun, and educational way?

Grab the kids, pass the word, and head down to the museum this Saturday. It is conveniently located at 1315 Kinnear Road, Columbus, Ohio 43212. For more details, CLICK HERE for the museum's website.

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Rough-legged Hawk

February 8, 2015, 7:37 pm

≫ Next: Wildlife Diversity Conference: A perk for attendees

≪ Previous: OSU Museum Open House! This Saturday!

Teed up like an angel ornament crowning a Christmas tree, a Rough-legged Hawk surveys its surroundings from atop a scraggly locust at Killdeer Plains Wildlife Area in Wyandot County. Students of raptors soon learn of this hawk's propensity for perching at the very tip of whatever surveillance point the hawk chooses, often mounting impossibly small twigs. Such perching behavior can give the observer a strong idea as to what species is involved, long before any field marks can be seen. Years ago, I had a new birder in my car, and as we drove through the wintry Ohio landscape, I espied a raptor perched on the extreme uppermost branches of a large oak in the middle of an otherwise barren field. "Rough-legged Hawk!" I proclaimed, even though the bird was very far off and just an undefined speck. She was stunned, and demanded to know how I could possibly be sure of its identity. I launched into an utterly - but unbeknownst to her - fanciful description of how the legs were feathered to the feet, the small bill and delicate facial features, blah blah blah. By now she thinks I must have Superman vision, and soon we were close enough to the bird to stop and and admire it through our optics. Sure, enough, light morph Rough-legged Hawk.

I was just playing the odds in order to have some fun, relying on the treetop perching habits of this beautiful raptor to prove me right. As we admired the stunning raptor, I of course came clean and divulged why my guess was what it was. And why such knowledge can make for a good party trick when with newer birders.

A closer view of a Rough-legged Hawk in flight, as seen yesterday at Big Island Wildlife Area in Marion County. A stunning bird indeed, with a complex pattern of white, black, and brown. In addition to their habit of treetop perching, Rough-leggeds excel at "wind-kiting": facing into the wind and hovering in place for sometimes extensive periods. They do this when prey is seen below. A favored food is meadow voles, and these little rodents often dash in and out of the snow or grass clumps. The raptor remains tethered overhead, as if attached to a string, awaiting an opportunity to pounce.

The bird in this photo is a light morph individual. There is also a striking dark morph of the Rough-legged Hawk that is mostly black. The color forms of Rough-legged Hawks - and other animals with distinct morphs such as Snow Geese - are often mistakenly referred to as "phases", as in "Did you see that beautiful dark phase Rough-legged Hawk?". Sorry to mount a nerdish, mildly pedantic soap box, but such forms are decidedly not phases and shouldn't be referred to as such. A phase is, according to Webster's: "a particular appearance or state in a regularly recurring cycle of changes".

The appearance of the moon at any given time is a phase. It'll change appearance in successive days, but it is still the moon, albeit with very different looks as it progresses through its phases.

Rough-legged Hawks do not change form. They are either light morphs (which most birds that appear in Ohio are), or they are dark morphs. If the bird changed appearance from a light type to a dark type over its development, then one might say that the first stage of color form was a phase. But since they don't, one cannot accurately apply the term phase in this case. Again, from Webster, the definition of morph, as the term relates to biology: "a phenotypic variant of a species". And that's what light and dark morphs of the Rough-legged Hawk are - variants of the same species, but stable variants that do not change appearance over time, or phase into other plumages.

Enough of that. A person could easily be bowled over by the dashing good looks of a Rough-legged Hawk even if they didn't know its name, let alone whether the bird should be correctly termed a phase or morph. Also of interest is that the closest breeding Rough-legged Hawks to Ohio are about 1,200 miles to the north. To these hardy raptors of the far north, wintering in Ohio is their Floridian vacation.

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Wildlife Diversity Conference: A perk for attendees

February 11, 2015, 2:23 pm

≫ Next: A gorgeous winter sunset

≪ Previous: Rough-legged Hawk

I recently wrote about the upcoming Ohio Wildlife Diversity Conference, which will take place in Columbus on March 11. CLICK HERE for that post and additional conference details.

It is customary to unveil new Division of Wildlife publications at this conference, and this year will be no exception. Scroll on down...

Conference attendees will be the first to receive a showy new publication entitled Milkweeds & Monarchs. This slick little booklet describes the current plight of our most iconic butterfly, lays out its ecology and the integral role of milkweeds in the butterfly's life cycle, and details many of the other benefits that milkweeds provide. Above all, the publication outlines ways in which people can easily and directly help the Monarch.

There will be other perks for attendees as well. Be sure to attend, and get your Milkweeds & Monarchs booklet, hear a bunch of great talks, and share with hundreds of other like-minded nature enthusiasts. And please, pass the word. For conference registration, CLICK HERE.

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A gorgeous winter sunset

February 14, 2015, 10:39 am

≫ Next: Cooper's hawk is songbird assassin

≪ Previous: Wildlife Diversity Conference: A perk for attendees

A fading sunset paints the sky in warm hues, reflected off interesting cloud formations. Big Island Wildlife Area, Marion County, Ohio, February 7, 2015.

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Cooper's hawk is songbird assassin

February 15, 2015, 7:50 am

≫ Next: Vanilla Ice meets Cooper's Hawk

≪ Previous: A gorgeous winter sunset

Cooper's hawk is a songbird assassin

COLUMBUS DISPATCH
February 15, 2015

NATURE
Jim McCormac

Few visitors to backyard bird feeders are as polarizing as the Cooper’s hawk.

Many songbird lovers have recoiled in horror when one of these feathered furies has barreled into the yard and plucked a cardinal from the air.

The Cooper’s hawk is the common backyard plunderer of songbirds.

Bad attitudes toward the magnificent raptor go way back. Early ornithologists disparaged them, adding legitimacy to efforts to soil the bird’s reputation and provide fuel for hawk shooters. Said William Dawson, author of the 1903 book Birds of Ohio: “THIS is the real culprit! Punish him who will (for its) . . . evil deeds/"

Waxing anthropomorphic about Cooper’s hawks is irresistible. The hawk possesses the strategic genius of Genghis Khan, the slick agility of Wayne Gretzky and a punch like Mike Tyson.

Cooper’s hawks feed almost entirely on songbirds. Their short rounded wings and long rudderlike tail allow the birds to maneuver like stunt planes. Females are much larger than males and will sometimes take down squirrels. A hawk on the hunt might sit quietly in a tree, awaiting prey. Other times, the bird will explode into a flock of potential victims, using shrubs, houses or other obstacles to hide its approach.

An adult Cooper’s hawk is beautiful. The upperparts are shaded a rich bluish-gray, and colorful orange barring stripes the underside. The head is capped with black, as if the hawk has donned a hoodie, and under that are glaring red eyes (stare into a Cooper’s hawk’s eyes and you’ll be struck by the absolute fearlessness within). Young Cooper’s hawks are clad in muted browns with bold smudgy streaking below.

While common today, Cooper’s hawks’ populations plummeted in the mid-1900s. Harvesting by gunners played a role, but environmental contamination by DDT was worse. The pesticide interfered with raptor reproduction cycles. Following the ban on DDT in 1972, Cooper’s hawks began to recover.

When one feeds the songbirds, one also feeds Cooper’s hawks. One invites them into the yard by providing a buffet of cardinals, jays, sparrows and such. Rather than excoriating the hardworking hawk for plying its trade, one should instead appreciate the hawk for what it is. A Cooper’s hawk is the pinnacle of avian engineering, an indomitable spirit of the wild in the midst of our largely domesticated lives.

As do all high-end predators, Cooper’s hawks play a vital role in creating equilibrium among populations of lesser beasts.

Some people just don’t like the way they go about it — although many folks who deride a Cooper’s hawk for doing what comes naturally would defend the nonnative house cat that slays backyard birds.
Cats are beautiful and have their place — in the house. Leave the bird-hunting to the natives such as the majestic Cooper’s hawk.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first and third Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com

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Vanilla Ice meets Cooper's Hawk

February 17, 2015, 5:23 pm

≫ Next: The Gadwall, a study in understated aesthetics

≪ Previous: Cooper's hawk is songbird assassin

This is the front page of one of the sections of last Sunday's Columbus Dispatch, and I was pleased to see my column, Nature, got the banner treatment. As did my Cooper's Hawk photo. This isn't the first time that I've managed to come up with something interesting enough to get bannerized, but IT IS the first time that any of my work has shared space with Vanilla Ice.

Yes, THAT Vanilla Ice. He of the explosive 1990 hit Ice Ice Baby, complete with its unmistakable stuttering bass line. Sorry, I imagine that little rapster ditty is now incessantly circling some of your brains, and it may not soon go away. And if his big hit isn't yet wedged in your mind, CLICK HERE.

Well, it turns out that Mr. Robert Matthew Van Winkle (no wonder he goes by Vanilla Ice) is an accomplished home remodeler. That's why the Dispatch featured him on the front page of the At Home section. But as I can't help noting, below my stuff.

Sharing the page with Vanilla Ice. Wonder if this is going to be the pinnacle of my career?

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The Gadwall, a study in understated aesthetics

February 18, 2015, 7:51 pm

≫ Next: A cold sky indeed!

≪ Previous: Vanilla Ice meets Cooper's Hawk

The tail waters of Hoover Dam, northern Franklin County, Ohio, last Monday. There was a wee bit of a nip in the air - it was about 10 F - creating a steam cloud from the flume of warmer water exiting the dam. As the catch basin remains ice-free, it is a great spot to observe and photograph waterfowl at reasonably close range.

A drake Mallard tips up to scavenge algae from the rocks. One must admire the hardiness of fowl on a frigid day, as they cavort in water barely above freezing on the downside, and air that is far frostier yet on the upside. The geese and ducks go about their business as if it is a summer day. Less hardy human observers shiver and shake, and would quickly perish if they fell into this drink.

There were several species of ducks plying the waters on this day, including this handsome pair of Northern Shovelers. Note how the hen swims with her rotund spoonbill skimming the water, seining up food. She could easily be dismissed as some other species of somberly hued hen duck, but the fat bill and emerald-green wing speculum give her away instantly. As does her distinctive companion.

While shovelers, wigeon, Hooded Mergansers, and other ducks are cool, it was the Gadwall that mostly intrigued me. I've always rooted for underdogs, and this duck just does not get its proper due. From afar, even a drake such as this can look unassuming and blend with the masses. Waterfowl illiterati might not even notice the Gadwall.

Hen Gadwall are even less distinguished, and look quite female Mallardesque. Note her white speculum peeking through - it often shows on resting birds - and the richly scalloped look to the back.

Wintry as it may be, it is Spring - Spring! - for the fowl, and bonds have already been struck. This charcoal-rumped drake Gadwall watchfully escorts his mate. They no doubt pine for breeding grounds far to the northwest, but ice-choked waters hold them back. Come the spring thaw, they'll bumping against ice-out until they reach their prairie pothole or whatever northern wetland they seek for the making of more Gadwall.

The English name of this duck is odd, and it seems that no one is quite sure of its origins or even exactly what Gadwall means. The scientific name Anas strepera is easier to interpret. Anas = "duck", and strepera = "noisy". One of the aural delights of a spring marsh packed with ducks is the comically nasal blurting quacks of drake Gadwall. CLICK HERE to listen for yourself.

After a bit, a drake Gadwall drifted near, and began bathing - plunging his head under the icewater, and showering itself with spray. I locked the camera on the bird, hoping for interesting compositions, and was not disappointed. In this shot, taken in mid-shake and frozen with a 1/5000 shutter speed, the true majesty of this bird smacks one in the face. It is like an ornately detailed work of art. Note the extremely fine vermiculations of the flank and breast feathers - avian op art in real life. The fanned plumes are nearly egretlike, and the duck reveals its wing panels of chestnut, ebony, and ivory. When caught primping like this, the wallflower becomes a supermodel!

The Gadwall blows the water off with powerful strokes of its wings, offering another perspective of its beauty. Suffering the breezy chill of a frigid February day was well worth it, in order to do a shoot with one of our most beautiful ducks.

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