Ohio Birds and Biodiversity

Last night showed great promise for a big salamander run. It rained all day, and temperatures crept up into the low 50's. We haven't had a good salamander movement around here as of yet, and I thought last night would be the magical night. My longtime favorite local haunts to seek salamanders is over in the Bellefontaine area west of Columbus. So it was there I headed, stopping by to pick up Bellefontainite and amphibian enthusiast Cheryl Erwin.

March is an incredibly volatile and unpredictable month weatherwise, and last night's sudden shift in conditions bore that out. When I left Columbus, the rain had quit and the ground was soaked - perfect for migrating salamanders. The temperature was 50 degrees - also ideal. Forty-five minutes later, as I entered the Bellefontaine area, the temp had nosedived to 42, which is too cool for big salamander movements. Nonetheless, we trolled some roads anyway, and found a couple of the bizarre unisexual hybrid salamanders - more on those HERE - two Red-spotted Newts, and the prize of the evening, a whopping big Tiger Salamander.

But it was a caterpillar that captured my imagination. Who woulda thunk it? I head out on a cold wet evening to look for hypothermia-defying amphibians, and return with material for a blog on caterpillars.

Up until last night, my personal best cold weather caterpillar was this animal, a Woolly-bear, Pyrrharctia isabella, the larva of the Isabella Tiger Moth. The heavily bristled Woolly-bears are well known for cold weather wandering, and I made this photo on December 26 when the temperature was 42 degrees and a brisk wind was blowing. The caterpillar was trucking right along. Sorry for the less than stellar photo; I saw it from the car while clipping along at a good rate, and barely had time to jump out and snap this one image.

Well, I was much more surprised to see this seemingly uninsulated specimen crossing the road last night. The temperature at the time was 42 degrees, tying the aforementioned Woolly-bear, but everything was wet. None of this fazed the caterpillar, which was moving quite well. I knew it was some sort of cutworm, and it didn't take long to determine its identity as the larva of the Large Yellow Underwing, Noctua pronuba.

I didn't have a photo of a live adult Large Yellow Underwing, but I did have this specimen photo. It shows the features of this handsome moth well enough. Noctua pronuba is not a native; it is indigenous to much of Eurasia, and was introduced to North America at Novia Scotia, Canada in 1979 and has since spread like wildfire. It is now locally abundant in many areas. Demonstrating the extreme mobility of flighted insects, this moth has made it all of the way to Alaska and California.

The caterpillars are well known for their cold hardiness, and if you see a decent sized plain jane cutworm running around in temperatures less than 50 degrees during winter thaws, it is almost certain to be this one.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again - the Hughes are trail cam masters, and they're doing amazing things with their candid cameras. If you've checked this blog with any frequency, you've probably seen some of the fabulous cam work by Laura and David, which they've been kind enough to allow me to share. Some recent examples are HERE, and HERE.

Laura just sent along their latest film-making endeavors, which feature a Mexican standoff between a tough Bobcat and two marauding Raccoons. It's pretty cool stuff, and she upped the ante by tossing in a neat video of a Gray Fox tumbling around in some fresh catnip.

I'm always flabbergasted by the amazing critters that the Hughes manage to find via their cams. This isn't luck - they know animal signs, and place the cameras in the right places. And remote and sparsely populated Monroe County, where they make these vids, abounds with wildlife. Of course, a little bait doesn't hurt, either. I've got the feeling that they'll eventually record something truly stunning - even better than what we've got here.

Puffed up and looking large and in charge, two Raccoons swagger into the deer carcass. Too bad someone even badder is already there.

The Raccoons test the waters, as it were, and attempt to horn in on the deer carcass. Their bullying attempts do not dissuade the Bobcat, which bristles up and stands its ground. I suspect that, from a distance of two feet or so, that little cat's stare looks mighty intimidating. Were there audio accompanying these screen captures, I'm sure we'd be treated to some ear-splitting snarls and blood-curdling screams.

Here, we can see the Bobcat caught in full-throated yowl, and apparently that's enough for the band-tailed would-be robbers. They turn tail and amble off, looking for easier carrion.

Laura had two cams on this deer carcass - one shooting stills as seen above; the other video. Unfortunately, the video cam 's battery died before the cat/raccoon encounter, but before it conked it it did record this cool sequence of the Bobcat coming into the carrion.

Here's the bonus Gray Fox cavorting in catnip video. Spicing the ground strategically with a little Nepeta cataria can work wonders, and this fox reveals its catlike attributes by rolling around in the stuff.

Thanks as always to Laura and David for sharing their stuff!

Be there or be square! The first ever Birding Optics & Gear Expo takes place Saturday and Sunday, March 23 and 24 right smack in the middle of Ohio, in Columbus. The experts at Bird Watcher's Digest are behind this, so you know it'll be good. These are the people who orchestrate America's best birding event, the Midwest Birding Symposium, after all!

All of the big optics companies will be on hand: Leica, Zeiss, Swarovski, Vortex, Celestron, and more. I am especially pleased that Midwest Photo Exchange will be in the house. They've got the coolest camera shop around, and that's where I get all of my photographic gear. They are a treasure trove of everything photographic, and the employees know everything there is to know, it seems, about photography.

Photo courtesy inhabitat.com

The venue is the sleek and slick Grange Insurance Audubon Center, just south of downtown Columbus. It's worth the trip just to see this place!

"Test driving" optics before buying is important, and you'll have plenty to point them at right outside the building. Being that it's mid-March, things won't look quite this green but this is the view outside the center's back doors. The local Peregrine Falcons make frequent sorties over the grounds, and the nearby Scioto River attracts plenty of other birds. CLICK HERE for an article that I wrote about this site, last fall.

Admission is FREE! Just come on down between 9 am and 4 pm on Saturday, or between Noon and 4 pm on Sunday. The complete lowdown is RIGHT HERE.

The following photos and video come courtesy of John Howard. John lives in southern Ohio's Adams County, and is a naturalist's naturalist. Many of the interesting finds and stories that I have shared on this blog from that part of the world, and there have been many, have been in the company of John. He's shown me many a new plant and animal over the years.

Anyway, the other day John was out and about in the backwoods of Adams County when he happened onto a Ruffed Grouse, Bonasa umbellus. Grouse have declined markedly in much of Ohio, but in some areas of Adams County and neighboring Scioto County, they can still be locally common. Starting about now, one often hears the deep hollow drumming made by displaying males rapidly beating their wings. This sound starts slowly and accelerates, and always reminds me of a lawn mower being fired up. However, male grouse do much more than drum when the testosterone gets flowing, as we shall see.

Photo: John Howard

A Ruffed Grouse in the brush or woods can be a devilishly hard bird to spot. I've seen hundreds of them over the years, but most were blurs that exploded under my feet and rocketed off through the forest. We can tell that this bird is a male, so we may be in for some action as it is the amorous season for grouse. The thick blackish terminal tail band on a female is somewhat broken and incomplete at the apex of the tail.

Photo: John Howard

Ah! Out struts the grouse, to put on a display that is guaranteed to wow the grousettes! You can see how this species was dubbed the "ruffed" grouse - check out those manelike feather boas surrounding the bird's neck. When male grouse strut their stuff, they puff these ruffs up to incredible dimensions, flare the tail to its full glory, and stalk about in the manner of a displaying tom turkey.

Video: John Howard

On more than one occasion, John and I have lamented the fact that our cameras have excellent video capability - but we forgot to use them! It's easy to get caught up in the moment and focus on making photos when a rare opportunity happens along. Well, that didn't happen this time. After making some really nice images, John triggered the video feature and captured the ultra-cool clip above.

Given the relative scarcity of Ruffed Grouse in Ohio these days, there are many Buckeye State birders who have yet to see one. And one can be in the field a lot, over a long period of time, and never witness the strutting courtship display of a love-struck grouse. I never have, and appreciate the chance to witness this neat aspect of grouse behavior via John's video.

A gorgeous vernal pool at Stratford Ecological Center in Delaware County, Ohio stands ready to receive its annual deposit of salamanders. But the salamanders have been slow to come. I was at this pool last night, hoping to see a barrage of amphibians trucking through the woods and into the pool's placid waters, but the invasion never materialized. As was the case the only other time I've been out salamandering this spring, the evening started off looking good: decently warm, and plenty wet. But come nightfall, temperatures rapidly plummeted and before long had dipped to the low 40's. That's a bit chilly even for hardy hypothermia-defying salamanders.

I carefully slogged around the pool's margins, and saw no spermatophores (the male salamander's sperm packets), or egg masses. There were probably were some, but nothing like there should be had the salamanders arrived in full force. I think they'll get to the vernal pools eventually, but this spring's crazy cool weather with barely a warm rainy night has delayed the migration of the salamanders. If you are not acquainted with the spring migration of mole salamanders, which is one of Nature's fantastic spectacles, CLICK HERE.

That's not to say we didn't see any. Several stunning Spotted Salamanders, Ambystoma maculatum, made an appearance. When photographers sight a salamander, they'll typically pose the animal on some bright green moss, or a downed log. There's probably no harm in that, as long as one is gentle with the animal and the handler takes care to keep his/her hands wet. But in the case of the above photo, no posing was necessary. I was surprised and elated to shine my flashlight's beam up the path, and see this male Spotted Salamander perched beautifully atop this branch. I was able to make a series of images without ever touching the animal.

We also found a few of the much duller Smallmouth Salamanders, Ambystoma texanum. This species may be the most resilient of our mole salamanders, occupying a wider range of wetland habitats than their fellow mole salamander species.

This is the Spotted Salamander that posed on the log a few photos back, now on the forest floor and navigating unerringly to the vernal pool.

And here we have what must be a gravid (pregnant) female. Look at the size of that belly! Presumably she is full of eggs, and once in the pond's waters she'll uptake the spermatophore of a male and thus fertilize them. The eggs, upon contact with water, expand greatly and become conspicuous gelatinous masses.

I am of the (hopeful) opinion that most of the mole salamanders have yet to make the march to the breeding pools, at least here in central Ohio. There does not appear to be a warm rainy night on the horizon for a week or so, but when such a night arrives I suspect many more salamanders will be out and migrating. If at all possible, I'll be out in the night, camera in hand, to document these amazing creatures.

Mothapalooza is a field trip-based celebration of moths the likes of which the world has never seen! Well, I don't really know if that's a fact, but it is going to be an awesome extravaganza, of that I can assure you. We entered into the hatching and planning of this event with a slight bit of trepidation, not absolutely knowing if there would be enough moth enthusiasts to draw much of a crowd. Our fears have already been largely allayed. Even though Mothapalooza doesn't take place until the distant weekend of June 14-16, 70 people have already signed on. We can only accommodate about 120 folks, so register soon.

Obviously, moths will be a huge part of the aptly named Mothapalooza, but there's more, much more. The conference is based at the lodge in Shawnee State Park, which is surrounded by 60,000+ acres of state forest. A crow's caw to the west is the 15,000 acre Edge of Appalachia Preserve. We'll be exploring throughout this incredibly rich region, which is loaded with cool and rare plants, interesting breeding birds galore, and blizzards of moths. Bring extra cards for your camera.

We are excited to have bugman extraordinaire Eric Eaton on board and leading trips. That's Eric, in green shirt and cap, facing away from the camera. Eric is the principal author of the Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America, which is the people's favorite when it comes to easy to use references for identifying insects. Eaton was in the midst of teaching a wasp workshop when I took this photo. The building in the backdrop will be one of our moth-trapping sites at the Edge of Appalachia Preserve. We'll get all kinds of cool stuff at this site.

Doing its best to look like a bird dropping, albeit a rather cute bird dropping, is this Beautiful Wood-Nymph, Eudryas grata. It is but one of scores of interesting moth species that we'll see during Mothapalooza.

Mr. Caterpillar himself, David Wagner, will be a major part of the scene. That's Dave, far right, in the midst of beating interesting caterpillars from the foliage of those stunning Marsh Rose Mallow plants. Dave is a whiz when it comes to moth ID, too. Rich McCarty and Pete Whan are to Dave's left. They work for the Ohio Chapter of The Nature Conservancy and manage the Edge of Appalachia Preserve, and both will be helping with Mothapalooza. To the rear and sporting a headband is John Howard, an extraordinary naturalist whose photos I've shared many times on this blog. Nothing will escape detection and naming by this crew.

This is one of the numerous cool and interesting caterpillars that we should see: the Unexpected Cycnia, Cycnia inopinatus, a rarity in Ohio. They prefer to snack on Butterfly-weed, and match the flower color of that milkweed quite well.

In addition to numerous common moths, we'll dredge up some rarities such as this Coppery Orbexilum Moth, Hystricophora loricana, a species of very limited distribution.

We've even got the president of the Ohio Lepidopterists onboard with Mothapalooza, Dave Horn. This is Dave, standing in one of Adams County's prairie barrens. These sites are loaded with RARE THINGS, and we'll be checking them out. There are many other topflight experts working with Mothapalooza - too many to name in this blog without creating a small telephone book. Check the Mothapalooza website to see who's who.

Most moths are utterly stunning, although often on a tiny scale. This is a common species and one that we ought to see, the Common Spragueia, Spragueia leo. One of the Mothapalooza workshops focuses on photography, and John Howard and I will be conducting that session. We'll try to share some tips and tricks for capturing moths great and small on pixels, in all kinds of conditions including the black of night.

Thanks to the work of Cheryl Harner, who will also be helping, we've enticed lepidopterist Jaret Daniels up from Florida. Jaret knows butterflies - he literally wrote the book, Butterflies of Ohio. We'll not only be out after dark moth-seeking. Daytime trips will venture into some of the richest butterfly habitats north of the Ohio River.

Here's one of many specialty butterflies that we ought to turn up during Mothapalooza, the Juniper Hairstreak, Callophrys gryneus. This shot, and every photo in this post, was taken at the very sites that we'll be exploring during Mothapalooza.

We are proud to be linked with the greatest effort to promote moths the world has ever seen, National Moth Week. Be sure and visit their site, HERE. Moths play an incredibly important role in earth's ecosystems, and education about the value of moths and their caterpillars is a huge part of NMW and Mothapalooza.

We are also indebted to our other sponsors: The Ohio Division of Wildlife, Flora-Quest, and Midwest Native Plant Society, as well the vital support of the Ohio Chapter of The Nature Conservancy and the Cincinnati Museum Center.

If you're looking for an out-of-the-box experience that will be jampacked with interesting critters and plants in one of the most beautiful regions of Ohio, Mothapalooza is for you. See all of the details and registration info RIGHT HERE.

Back on March 8, I found myself at Tom Ruggles' place in Zanesville, attempting to observe and photograph Jeffrey, his spectacular yellow Northern Cardinal. You can see photos and read about this amazing bird HERE.

As is often the case while watching feeders, we were routinely distracted by marauding squirrels. On this day, however, we found ourselves rather charmed by their antics, and I was thoroughly smitten by certain of these bushy-tailed rodents.

We noticed this pair of Gray Squirrels, Sciurus carolinensis, way out in the back part of the lot. I'm assuming this is an amorous pair filled with the seasonal lust of spring. They remained 20 feet up this tree, nearly nose to nose, for quite some time. A lesser male, presumably, watches wistfully from the tree to the left.

After a bit, the two squirrels sidled up side by side, possibly communicating telepathically (for all I know). They also remained like this for some time. Assuming the male was charming enough, the end result will be little squirrellets later this spring, the first of two batches. Gray Squirrels often have another breeding period in mid-summer.

Elfin squirrellets become big squirrels eventually, and turn their sights to the local bird feeders if any are at hand. Their fondness for seed leads to one of the greatest man vs. wildlife interactions in the lower 48 states. Frustrated feeders of birds wage all out war on the clever beasts, devising numerous ploys to prevent the furry spidermen from accessing the feeders. Normally, the squirrels win. This one is practically thumbing his nose at us, and we were but a few feet away peering through the windows. Tom's squirrel dog, which is essentially a miniature Golden Retriever, was right by our side and quaking and simmering with rage at the insolent interloper. However, I insisted that the dog put a cork in it so I could make photographs of the squirrels, which probably did not endear me to said canine.

This is the animal that I really wanted to see and make photos of - the "black" squirrel. There is a healthy population of these sooty-colored squirrels in Zanesville, and they intrigue me. Perhaps it is because I hail from a land which has no black squirrels. There are supposed to be colonies of them in and around Columbus, Ohio, where I live, but I never see them here. Only the grays. So the spectacle of one of these black squirrels is a treat for me, a bit like seeing an alien descend from Spaceship Oak.

Even though the so-called black squirrels look totally different than their gray brethren, they are pretty much one and the same. The blacks are melanistic Gray Squirrels - they have one or two special genes that rewires their genetics to produce an abundance of melanins, or dark pigments. While most are coal-black such as the fellow in the photo, sometimes individuals with blond, gray, or even white highlights can be found.

The city of Kent, Ohio is especially famous for its abundance of black squirrels. Supposedly, the original stock of 10 squirrels was imported in 1961 from Canada and they've since spread like wildfire. But melanistic Gray Squirrels occur naturally and most populations have probably long been present and were not assisted by people. The black squirrels are most prevalent in Ontario, Canada and the northeastern United States. One theory has it that the black form of the Gray Squirrel dominated prior to European settlement, when forests were still primeval and their dark coats helped the squirrels better blend with the shady old-growth woodlands. As the forests were opened up and hunting of squirrels increased, gray forms were favored as they blended better with the changing habitats.

The issue of feral cats - house cats gone wild - has simmered for years. Occasional events trigger seismic eruptions in the "debate" between the pro-cat and anti-cat camps. In fairness, it should be noted that many of the so-called "anti-catters" are certainly not anti-cat. Many are like myself - I own three cats, all of which needed homes, and I have been smitten with felines since I was a tot. And mine DO NOT go outdoors. But I, like scores of others who might be labeled "anti-cat", recognize the massive problems caused by ferals. Conversely, many of the pro-catters also see the need to reduce the populations of cats gone wild, recognizing the damage that they do to native populations of birds and other animals. Many of us would like to see humane and sensible solutions adopted to reduce the millions of feral cats in this country.

The latest major flare-up in the cat wars occurred recently, when longtime writer and conservationist Ted Williams penned an anti feral cat op ed for the Orlando Sentinel. The National Audubon Society, which had run Williams' column "Incite" for 33 years, promptly parted ways with Williams when the cat poo hit the fan over the Sentinel piece.

Audubon's parting of ways with Ted Williams incited all manner of blog posts and other writings about that particular issue, and the larger issue of feral cats. If you want a fascinating insight into the emotions generated by the feral cat issue, read THIS entry that was made on the blog 10,000 Birds. The blog article will point you to Williams' controversial Sentinel article, which provides an overview of the feral cat issue. But what is really fascinating is the comments - about 124 of them! - on the blog. Predictably, the pro and anti feral cat camps go at it, but even people who should be on the same page are at each others throats. Read the blog, and its attendant comments, HERE.

A whole lotta plugs for various events on this here blog of late, I know. But late winter and early spring have become conference season in Ohio, it seems, and many of these events are well worth a pitch.

The Ohio Botanical Symposium is one of them. This will be the 13th year for the symposium, and it's grown like a weed. Your narrator pitched the idea for the symposium back in 1999, when I worked as a botanist for the ODNR's Division of Natural Areas. We started small - about 35 people in a classroom at the Ohio State University. The last go-round saw about 450 people, and the symposium has long since moved to much plusher digs.

So mark your calendar for Friday, April 5th, and check in HERE to register. The venue is the beautiful Villa Milano in Columbus. Following is a summary of the agenda, spiced with a few showy photos. It's a great slate of speakers and topics, any one of which is worth the price of admission.

Rob Naczi will be in the house and delivering the keynote. Rob's in the Big Apple now, working as the curator of North American Botany at the New York Botanical Garden. He'll be talking about his work to revise one of America's most iconic botanical works, the book above.

The tattered book in the photo is my original copy, and it was probably one of the first that was sent out. "The Manual" appeared in 1991, and mine has seen a lot of use and abuse in the intervening two decades. A lot of advances in our knowledge of flora occur in 20 years, and it's time for an update.

The brainpower behind the 1991 edition of The Manual was also a botanist housed at the New York Botanical Garden - Arthur Cronquist. Cronquist was a living legend for much of his botanical career, which encompassed most of his 73 year life. Tragically, he passed away in 1992, the year after his epic revision of The Manual was released.

I have an interesting story about Cronquist's book. Upon receipt of our copies, I and my peers immediately devoured the pages, searching for new tidbits and marveling - and trying to comprehend - the new "Cronquist" system of taxonomy. I found a new tidbit indeed, on page 656 of The Manual. Under the account for the Erect Dayflower, Commelina erecta, Cronquist stated that it occurs in "Dry, usually sandy soil... [including] O. [Ohio]". Whoa! We knew of no Ohio records for this interesting plant, but its presence here would certainly be possible. I figured that Cronquist, with his vast stores of knowledge and access to the NY Botanical Garden's expansive herbarium, was privy to something that we didn't know. So I dashed off the letter above to Patricia Holmgren, director of the NYBG. If you click the letter, it'll expand for readability.

A few weeks later, I was floored to receive the letter above. The Man himself had written! Cronquist actually took the time to respond to my query, in his humorous style. That such an esteemed scientist - he was probably the most highly regarded active botanist in the country at that time - would take the time to respond to some unknown person in the heartland of Ohio made an enormous impression on me. As it turned out, he died only two and a half months after this letter was written.

Anyway, on with the talks. As has been done since the inaugural symposium, there will be a talk about the best plant finds of recent seasons, ably delivered by Tim Walters. The spindly little sedge above - a plant that perhaps only a botanist could love - was a star of one of the last Best Finds talks. It is Rocky Mountain Bulrush, Schoenoplectus saximontanus, which was rediscovered by Dan Boone in Pickaway County in 2008. The last Ohio sighting prior to Dan's discovery was in the 1940's.

Judy Semroc, who is one of the region's best all around naturalists and photographers, will deliver a program on insect pollinators and their often specialized relationships with plants. Be prepared for plenty of stunning imagery.

One of the most entertaining and energetic botanical lecturers, anywhere, is David Brandenburg. He'll be talking about Ohio's asters, and that covers a lot of beautiful ground. Pictured is one of our most stunning species, the Smooth Aster, Symphyotrichum laeve.

Ginseng, Panax quinquefolius, is tops in value of the medicinal plants in our flora. Prices can hit $500 a pound for dried roots, and as a consequence the plant is becoming scarcer. Eric Burkhart of Penn State will explore the history of the ginseng industry.

Chris Bedel of the Cincinnati Museum will give a program on the 16,000 acre Edge of Appalachia Preserve in Adams County, one of Ohio's great bastions of biodiversity. Chris is a fabulously entertaining speaker, and full of knowledge about the area that he has managed and lived in for years.

I took this shot a few years ago at the base of the drive to the Eulett Center, which is the Museum's headquarters in the heart of the Edge. Our group was watching a Blue Grosbeak, teed up on that tree in the right center of the photo. Chuck-will's-widows nest just up the hill behind us. A half-dozen state-listed rare plants grow within a stone's throw. A cool katydid, recently described to science, is common in this spot. And the list just goes on and on...

Finally, John Mack will talk about a place that ranks high among the rarest of the rare, Daughmer Savanna in Crawford County. Nearly all of our prairie savannas have been destroyed, thus it was a major coup when Daughmer was purchased and protected as a state nature preserve a few years ago.

You won't want to miss the Ohio Botanical Symposium, so register soon, RIGHT HERE.

Photo: Kathi Groves

Imagine peering up into the clear blue ether, and seeing this giant white bird wafting over. You'd do a double take, and a birder would slam on the brakes and hop out for a better look. That's what Kathi Groves did yesterday as she cruised up Frederick Pike in Montgomery County, just north of Interstate 70 near Dayton.

Fortunately, she had a camera handy and the presence of mind to snap a few photos. Bev & Ed Neubauer suggested that she send them along to me, and I'm glad that Kathi did because now I can share them with you.

Photo: Kathi Groves

The Turkey Vultures are in full migration mode right now, and it's commonplace to see them drifting high overhead. But most of these dark undertakers of the bird world don't look anything like this! Kathi's vulture is leucistic, and highly so. This genetic anomaly causes melanins, or dark pigments, to be washed out and pale. Most typically leucism manifests itself in a "piebald" pattern - patchy blotches of white, or perhaps just one prominent white bodypart such as the white-headed American Robin that someone just sent me a photo of. Leucism is a numbers game - the more animals in a population, the more likely that an individual will carry this recessive trait. That's why the most commonly reported leucistic birds tend to be abundant species such as American Robins, Red-tailed Hawks, and Turkey Vultures.

Kathi's vulture may be the whitest one that I've seen, but it isn't the only one. For years, a leucistic Turkey Vulture frequented the vicinity of Egypt Valley Wildlife Area in Belmont County, and became a local celebrity. It's patchy white wings made it stand out from afar, and I saw it on a few occasions. Then there's THIS BIRD, from a few years ago.

Photo: Kathi Groves

As Kathi watched, the vulture cruised earthward and alit in this yard. I can only imagine the surprise of the homeowners, if they happened to glance out the window and notice this thing.

Thanks to Kathi for sharing her discovery and photos! If you're in the area of Frederick Pike and I-70 in north Dayton, keep an eye peeled for this vulture, and please let me know if you see it. The bird may just be passing through, but perhaps it here to stay.

Yesterday dawned bright and clear, with temperatures soaring into the low 60's. After this interminably long winter, with well below average temperatures and above average snowfall, it was quite nice to finally see the first botanical sparks of spring popping to life. So it was a treat to connect with John Howard, Susan Nash, and Daniel Boone and go exploring some of Adams County's best habitats, such as this prairie opening.

Daniel Boone poses by a White Cedar, Thuja occidentalis, that is probably far older than its size would suggest. Growth comes slow in a rocky opening such as this, and the tree is probably in excess of a century in age. Hard to see in the photo, but Dan's left hand touches a small Dwarf Hackberry, Celtis tenuifolia - just one of many rare plants that occur in habitats such as this.

Until this trip, I had seen only a handful of "wildflowers" in bloom in my tundra-like neck of the woods, and nearly all of those were weedy nonnatives. That changed with this foray. This shrub or treelet, the American Hazelnut, Corylus americana, flowers well in advance of leafout, and its pendant spikelets of male flowers are quite conspicuous and reveal the plants allegiance to the birch family. Far less noticable are the pistillate, or female, flowers. Look at the branch's tip in the photo's upper righthand corner - there it is, the tiny scarlet flower.

One of the woodlands that we explored had large rafts of this small parsley family member, the Harbinger-of-spring, Erigenia bulbosa. It is sometimes known by the equally apt name of Salt-and-pepper.

We stopped by a robust station of Snow Trillium, Trillium nivale - probably the largest population in Ohio. Most plants have up and down years, and this is a boom year for this stand of trillium. They were not yet peak, yet we saw many thousands of plants.

One of spring's faithful harbingers are the hepatica, and we saw scores of Sharp-lobed Hepatica, Hepatica acutiloba. I began to notice incredibly small beetles on hepatica several year ago, and now that my eye is attuned I see them on as many or more plants than not. This beetle belongs to the subfamily Nitidulinae of sap-feeding beetles (thanks Anthony Rodgers!), but we don't know the species. These beetles busily clamber about the anthers, plundering pollen, and must play a vital role in the life cycle of hepaticas.

A must-see spring spectacle in this neck of the woods is the mass blooming of Goldenstar, Erythronium rostratum, one of our rarest lilies. I was not optimistic that the plants would be above ground, given the lateness of the spring, but good ole Dan Boone was correct in his confidence and I'm glad that we stopped by. Goldenstar resembles the common, widespread Yellow Trout Lily, E. americanum, but its petals are held in a flat plane rather than being strongly recurved, and the tepals (they are not technically petals) have an orangish cast.

This rarity has a scattered and local distribution, with the Ohio station at its northern limits. Interestingly, I believe that this is the only native plant that was accidentally omitted from th Manual of Vascular Plants of Northeastern United States and Adjacent Canada, that I discussed in this RECENT POST.

After a while, we ventured into open sandy habitats along the Ohio River in search of other plants. Lots of weedy nonnative chickweeds and mustards where tinting the otherwise barren fields, and sprinkled among them were these native American Field Pansies, Viola bicolor. Note the conspicuous purple nectar guides leading into the glowing yellow center of the flower - these colorful ornamentations are there to draw pollinating insects to the core of the flower.

Finally, we concluded with a stop to an interesting Ohio River sand terrace to seek one of our primary targets, the Little Whitlow-grass, Draba brachycarpa. To call this elfin mustard diminutive would be an understatement. The plant just to the left of the dime is in peak bloom; the smaller plant just to the left of that has already flowered and is setting fruit. These particular plants are not runts, but are about average in size. Little Whitlow-grass (not a grass of course; I'm unsure of the origins of this curious common name but suspect it originates from some Old World group of plants) is so small that you can't really spot them while standing upright.

A closeup of an inflorescence in the act of opening, with tightly closed purplish-red buds in the center. You could probably easily pile 100 of those miniature flowers on the dime in the previous photo. In spite of their tiny size, the flowers are frequently visited by a variety of little bees, flies and other early to emerge pollinators.

This Little Whitlow-grass has already set fruit. The oval pods are known as siliques (sil-eeks), which is specialized mustard terminology. They'll ripen in short order, and pepper the ground below with scores of dustlike seeds. If the conditions where the seed fell are suitable next year, up will pop more whitlow-grass, thus perpetuating the life cycle of this critically endangered (in Ohio) annual plant.

If you've followed this blog very much, you've probably seen some of the remarkable videography that I've shared, courtesy of Dave and Laura Hughes. Their knowledge of animal behavior, and access to a remote region filled with wildlife, has enabled them to use high-tech trail cams to achieve amazing results. Examples of their work include footage of Beaver, Bobcat, and Coyote (click on any of those animal names to see the video).

Well, once I and many others saw the results of the Hughes' sophisticated videography and their incredible footage of animals which are normally nearly impossible to observe, our thoughts quickly turned to one of the most enigmatic and unresolved mysteries in the natural sciences. Bigfoot.

This is "Frame 352" from the now legendary video shot by Robert Gimlin and Roger Patterson in 1967 in California. The pair claims to have briefly encountered a "cryptid", or unknown animal, and managed to get a brief film that includes the screen capture above. Their video has been subject to intense scrutiny, and no one has ever been able to prove or disprove its validity. And that's saying a lot, as many of science's best and brightest minds have long pursued the mystery of Bigfoot, as well as its various closely related "species" such as Sasquatch, Grass Ape, Yeti, etc. Indeed, professional organizations have sprung up that are dedicated to researching - and locating - the creatures that many scientists are, for now, labeling Homorilla erectus. A growing camp of scientists and biologists believe that these creatures clearly represent a missing link between apes in the genus Gorilla, and humans - genus Homo.

The Hughes have been surveilling and filming intensely for several years in Monroe County, near the Ohio River. Not far from their sites lies Salt Fork State Park in Guernsey County, which is in the upper lefthand corner of this map. This sparsely populated region of dense forests and rugged terrain probably produces more sightings and encounters with large bipedal cryptids than any other place on earth; certainly in North America. Such has been the spate of encounters in this area that Salt Fork State Park is the venue for the annual Ohio Bigfoot Conference, which takes place on April 13. It is the biggest and best organized of its kind.

Given the remarkable advances in remotely operated camera and video technology, many authorities believed it would only be a matter of time before solid evidence regarding the existence of Homorilla erectus was brought to light. I figured that, given their incredible success in documenting well known but incredibly secretive mammals in Monroe County, it might well be the Hughes that produced evidence of H. erectus.

The Hughes check their camera rigs frequently, and remain alert for any new animal signs. For some time, they have noticed evidence of unidentified large animals - large broken branches, saplings that have been bulled over, and big but always obscure and unrecognizable footprints. Finally, early last winter one of their motion-activated photo cams picked up this fuzzy image. It appears to be a biped, walking upright that appears humanlike. The photo is just not good enough to state with certainty what this creature is, however.

However, now a site with suspicious activity was clearly identified, and the Hughes ramped up surveillance in the area. Their work led to this video, a few weeks after the previous still photo was captured. This video is intriguing, as it clearly shows an upright humanlike figure, but is also frustrating as the cryptid passes through at the periphery of the camera's reach, and does not allow for detailed study.

Recently and not far from where the above video was made, a still camera was tripped and obtained this image. It appears that the creature is moving fast, and details are blurry. But there seems to be little doubt that a nonhuman biped is involved, and by using the known size of surrounding vegetation, the Hughes gauged its height to be around 6'10".

In spite of diligently maintaining their camera rigs and recording nearly every night since these stills and video were made, the Hughes have yet to obtain any other footage. The cryptid in their films is almost certainly not a human, however. Given that the video and stills were made in a region where literally dozens of sightings of Bigfootlike creatures have been made, we must assume that it is likely the animal that, for now, is being dubbed Homorilla erectus.

The photo above was made on March 27. In only two weeks, several hundred biologists and amateur cryptid hunters will descend on nearby Salt Fork State Park for the Ohio Bigfoot Conference. With all of those trained eyes, we can only hope that they will turn up this creature, or another like it.

Green Lawn Cemetery is a huge green splash of habitat embedded in a very urbanized landscape on the south side of Columbus, Ohio. At 360 acres, it is the second largest cemetery in the state, trailing only Cincinnati's Spring Grove Cemetery in size. Long known as a legendary birding hotspot, Green Lawn boasts a massive bird list which includes many rarities: Ohio's first Mississippi Kite record, what was probably the first widely seen Swainson's Warbler, Harris's Sparrow, Kirtland's Warbler, and many others.

These all qualify as "good" birds. Don't you hate that G-word when applied to birds? I do, and fastidiously try to avoid its use when making a statement about the purported value of any bird. After all, every bird is a good bird, at least somewhere. Even worse is when someone says "I got" a bird. One time, I was standing along a road in Churchill, Manitoba when a van full of birders pulled up. The guide looked out, and said "what do you see?" I reported that I was watching a Northern Shrike, aka "Butcherbird" teed up and hunting. Shrikes are cooler than Elvis ever was. He reported the sighting to the contents of the bus, and I heard several "birders" say, almost in unison, "oh, we already 'got' that".

No, they didn't "get" the shrike. John James Audubon, Alexander Wilson, and other early ornithologists "got" birds when they blasted them from the trees with shotguns in the days of yore. Indeed, that vanful of birders would have done well to stumble out of that vehicle and spend a bit of time playing the role of birdwatchers.

Anyway, enough of that. Green Lawn is near and dear to me, and I've had a long relationship with the place. I've made hundreds of trips there over my life, and even before I had a driver's license, my parents or brother would take me there to look for birds. This eventually led to my serving for 14 years on the board of trustees, as we endeavored to manage the place as, essentially, an arboretum and nature preserve. Indeed, its formal name is Green Lawn Cemetery and Arboretum. The vast majority of Ohio's native tree species can be found, and many of the oaks are old-growth behemoths that are several hundred years old. Add in plenty of century old ornamental conifers and it's no mystery why Green Lawn Cemetery is attractive to birds.

Not long ago, I led a group of 20 or so natural resources students from Ohio State University around the cemetery. I had high hopes for two especially noteworthy species (noteworthy, not "good"), and we struck gold. Plundering the cones of a Norway Spruce was a trio of White-winged Crossbills, including one bright pink male. Later, after the students had departed, Steve Rose and I wandered back and were treated to the sight of this female on the ground, slaking her thirst. She blends well with the leaves.

I think that the students appreciated this mighty little hunter more than they did the crossbills. Merlins have become a wintertime fixture at Green Lawn for at least six years now, and I hoped that we might catch up to one on this day. Sure enough, a sharp-eyed student spotted one of the birds high on a snag. I was able to set my scope up, and everyone could leisurely admire the barrel-chested avian warrior. The Merlin, being a Merlin, cared not a whit for us lower life forms on the ground far below, and generally ignored its fawning admirers.

Both the crossbills and Merlin (or Merlins) are undoubtedly still in residence. From here on out, as migration picks up steam, there'll be an ever increasing cast of migrant birds cycling through Green Lawn Cemetery. If you've not been there, make a visit and check the place out. More information about the cemetery can be found on the Ohio Ornithological Society's website, HERE.

Mark your calendars for the evening of Wednesday, April 17th! Dr. Bernard (Bernie) Master will be presenting a free program, liberally illustrated with beautiful bird images, at the McConnell Arts Center at 777 Evening Street in Worthington, Ohio. CLICK HERE for more information about this beautiful venue, including directions. The program begins at 7:00 pm, but try and arrive by 6:30 and enjoy some wine and cheese, and check out the facility.

Bernie is a uber-birder, and has been for nearly all of his life. A major globe-trotter, he's been to most corners of our earth and has seen about three-quarters of the world's 10,000+ bird species. Not only that, he's one of only three Americans to have seen representatives of all 227 bird families that are currently recognized.

I've known Bernie for 15 years or so, and have had the pleasure of spending time afield with him on many occasions, and visiting his Worthington property. It's the latter that this talk will focus on - he has recorded an astonishing number of birds in his "yard", including mega-rarities such as Kirtland's Warbler and Mississippi Kite. I can't recall the current yard-list total, but it's pushing 200 species, I think. Bernie has kept fastidious notes for many years related to his avian visitors, and has recorded many of them with his camera.

Photo: Bernard Master

I don't think Bernie's yet found Long-billed Dowitcher on his property, but this beautiful photo of one of those shorebirds snapping at a dragonfly gives you a sense of the imagery that you're in for with this program.

Bernie's yard is much more than a yard - it's a suburban sanctuary with a diversity of habitat the wildlife that comes along with that. Be sure and stop on by the McConnell Arts Center on the evening of April 17 and hear Bernie's talk. Hope to see you there!

The National Audubon Society's Biedler Forest in South Carolina. I spoke at a conference in Leesburg, Virginia, yesterday, and hey, it's only a seven hour jaunt down I-95 to get into some of South Carolina's coolest swamps, so off I went after the conference concluded. Biedler is an incredible place, and if you're ever in the Carolinas, I'd recvommend putting it on the itinerary.

A White Ibis scrutinizes your narrator from the shady depths of one of the country's finest remaining stands of old-growth Bald Cypress, at Biedler Forest. Swallow-tailed Kites cavorted overhead, Water Moccasins loafed on nearby logs, and the warbler migration is really picking up steam down here.

More southern swamp stuff will follow...

I've covered a lot of turf in the past few days. First it was off to historic Leesburg, Virginia, where I had the privilege of speaking at the Loudoun County Master Gardener's 4th annual plant symposium. That was a great, well organized event, and it was nice to see some friends from that part of the world, and meet some new ones.

Being that South Carolina and its wonderful swamps were only seven hours or so to the south, it was off in the car immediately after the symposium. I had long wanted to get myself into prime Bachman's Warbler habitat at peak time (or what used to be peak season) for this now (probably) extinct warbler. And that I did. More on the warbler in a later post, or at the least, a soon to come book.

A tight time frame only allowed for forays into three of the great southern swamplands: I'on Swamp, Beidler Forest, and the above, Congaree National Park. The Congaree is the best and largest remaining bottomland forest in the U.S. This 2.5 mile boardwalk makes access easy, but it leads to miles of less developed trails.

Your narrator leans against a tree, and what a tree! This is the largest known Loblolly Pine, Pinus taeda, and it made me feel like a pygmy. The Congaree harbors many national champion trees - the largest of their kind, anywhere. Towering Loblollies and Bald Cypress create a spectacular canopy as one traverses the swamp.

I spent some quality time just laying on the forest floor and gazing into the crown of the giant Loblolly Pine, which extended about 167 feet over my head. Such a tree would have sprouted centuries ago, and its boughs have seen a lot since.

Interesting reptiles and amphibians abound in the Congaree, and this gargantuan Common Snapping Turtle, Chelydra serpentina, was a treat. Like the aforementioned tree, she's been around for a good long time, and was massive. I was respectful of her space, with good reason, but was able to sidle up close enough to make this image with my macro lens. She was cool about the whole deal, and never hissed or snapped. Note the stegosaurus-like armor plating on her foreleg.

It's hard to spend any time in a South Carolina swamp and not hear the raucous hooting and caterwauling of Barred Owls. This fellow perched obliging right off the trail, and was so sleepy it would hardly open its eyes to take in its admirers.

More cool swamp stuff to come...

If you've spent much time afield, investigating spring wildflowers, you've doubtless noticed the strange beast shown here. These odd insects suggest animals far removed from their lineage, such as little hummingbird moths, or bees. Neither, nor.

This is a bee fly. Yes, a fly. I photographed the one above a few years back, as it drew nectar from the staminate (male) flowers of Pussy-toes, Antennaria plantaginifolia. Bee flies are rather hard to photograph when on the roll, as they are awesome fliers and quick to dart and dash about.

On my recent trip into the depths of the I'on Swamp in South Carolina, I happened along a sandy, sunny woodland gap that had several bee flies on the wing. So, I devoted some ten minutes of my life trying to get decently clear images of the insects in flight. A few of them came out; most were deposited in the recycle bin.

This species, I believe, is the same as in the prior photo and it is the big boy of the crowd: the aptly named Large Bee Fly, Bombylius major. Keep in mind, "large" is a relative term. These things look like a miniature jelly bean covered with fur, and I suppose an aeronautics engineer would take a glance at one and proclaim that it should not be able to rise aloft.

But fly they do - these things are the Blue Angels of the fly world. This particular bee fly was diligently guarding a patch of turf, and whenever another bee fly would foolishly impinge on its territory, this fly would dart after it with an impressive burst of speed, astonishingly fast jags and jigs, and a clearly audible chainsaw buzzing of the wings. Note its long proboscis, the better to suck nectar from plants.

This is some sort of solitary bee, or digger bee, in the act of creating her burrow. Into said burrow she will deposit a sweet ball of plant pollen, and lay an egg along with the pollen. Then the chamber is sealed. Life for the digger bee grub seems unusually Disneyesque for an insect. The bee larvae hatches to what amounts to a giant sugar ball; it is as if the grub is born into cotton candy and must eat its way out. What could possibly go wrong?

Enter the "cute" Bombylius major, that adorable little fuzzy hummingbirdlike fly. Like the digger bees, this fly too collects much pollen and as with the bees, is undoubtedly an important pollinator. But the Large Bee Fly is a digger bee's worst nightmare.

When the time for reproduction rolls around, the female bee fly sneaks over to a digger bee's burrow before it's sealed, and hurls her eggs at the entrance. I'm not sure exactly how she "hurls" them, but whatever the means of locomotion, if her aim is good the eggs either tumble into the burrow or land near its entrance.

Upon hatching, the predatory fly larva - which probably lacks any sort of the cuteness of the adults - begin feeding on the pollen provisioned by the hard-working digger bee. When that's exhausted if not before, the fly larva digs into the digger bee grub and feasts on that. Life in the bee burrow becomes quite the horror show, thanks to the bizarre reproductive strategy of one of our most charming flies - indeed, a fly that anyone would like! - the Large Bee Fly.

I don't mean for the title of the post to sound x-rated, but there's just no better way to describe a pool full of lusty American Toads in full mating fervor. Last night was warm, wet, and rainy, so I decided to head out to some of my favorite wetlands in Logan County to see what was hopping. I stopped along the way to meet up with Bellefontainite Cheryl Erwin, and much appreciated her company. Making decent images in pitch-black rainy conditions is challenging, to say the least, and having someone along to manipulate lights and whatnot is hugely helpful.

The salamanders had apparently mostly made their runs to the breeding ponds. We saw a few "unisexual" hybrids (more on those, HERE), and one road-killed Spotted Salamander. Although the sallies may have done their thing, Shift II, the frogs and toads, were in full swing. Spring Peepers peeped everywhere, and the raspy grates of Western Chorus Frogs were plentiful. The odd underwater snores of Northern Leopard Frogs were heard here and there, and while not much in tune yet, we saw several Green Frogs and Bullfrogs.

But it was the warty old toads that stole the show.

A male American Toad, Bufo americanus, in full song. Normally shy and recalcitrant, toads come out of their shell when it's time to woo the girls. We happened along a shallow roadside wetland that was, literally, hopping with toads. A pool full of dozens of toads caught up in the lust of spring is a spectacle nearly beyond belief. Males, such as the one above, rise from the water and deliver their long semi-melodic trills while others dash madly about like synchronized swimmers on a mushroom trip. Peepers and chorus frogs add to the din, and the amphibious soundscape is quite deafening.

Quite the charmers, these stud toads. Note his chalky-blue eyeliner, which (I believe) fades after the breeding season. If a female, enchanted by the male's aria, approaches, watch out! The hormone-saturated toad will often shoot out after her, and grab the female in quite the Cro-Magnon style. Sometimes a tussle ensues, and she breaks away, possibly to look for a more mannerly toad. Finding other suitors is no problem - there are trilling toads everywhere.

If a match is made, this is the result - amplexus. Amplexus is herpetological-speak for the act of mating, and once paired the happy couple can remain in position for a long time. The male (he's the one on top and if you didn't know that I feel sorry for you) is noticeably smaller than his mate.

The ultimate result of a toad mating frenzy are these long strands of helically twisted toad eggs. The blackish embryonic toadlets are visible through the opaque matrix that forms the eggs, and soon the pond will be awash with toad tadpoles. Those that are lucky enough to run the gauntlet of predators that lurk in such places will eventually rise from the water, and with luck live a good long life.

Beautiful lianas of lemony-yellow flowers are sure to attract the attention of travelers through the Carolinas and elsewhere in the southeast. This plant is the state wildflower of South Carolina: Yellow Jessamine, Gelsemium sempervirens, sometimes known as Carolina Jasmine. I saw it blooming in profusion on my recent trip to South Carolina, and had to stop to make some images.

The largish tubular flowers suggest Trumpet-creeper, Campsis radicans, or to my eye, something in the Figwort Family (Scrophulariaceae). But the plant belongs to the Logania family (Loganiaceae), which is closely allied to the Figwort Family, and the plant does indeed sometimes go by the name "trumpetflower".

Note the long corolla tube, which sits in a cup of pointed pale green sepals. The anthers are held on long filaments, and extend to the summit of the corolla tube. These blossoms are sweetly fragrant, but very poisonous. All parts of the plant are said to be infused with strychnine alkaloids, especially the nectar. Even handling the foliage can allegedly cause minor dermatitis, so it's best to take a hand's-off approach with this plant.

As I moved around taking photos, it didn't take long to realize that large bumblebees in the genus Bombus were important pollinators of Yellow Jasmine. The large fuzzy insects were everywhere and rapidly darting from flower to flower.

The bees quickly entered the cuplike flowers and pushed to the base of the blossom where the nectaries, presumably, are located. Their visits were incredibly rapid, however - usually the bumblebee would be in and out of a flower in two seconds or so.

Given the brevity of their visits, I had to wonder if the toxicity of the nectar is something that the bees can only marginally tolerate, and must gather in small doses. Probably not, though, seeing how many visits the animals would make to various flowers. Each bee certainly gathered an impressive amount of nectar (and pollen) over the course of their collective visits.

In order to access the sweet stuff, the bee must dive headfirst deep into the flower. This act forces its fuzzy body into contact with the anthers and pollen, and with its next visit to a flower, it'll rub some of that pollen off on the flower's stigma, thus cross-pollinating the plants.

A perfect fit. It would seem that bumblebees and Yellow Jessamine were made for one another, and they probably are. Coevolution of plants and animals is a very cool thing.

It's been a long cold winter, and I for one grew quite weary of snow and cold. But rest assured, spring has sprung and I have proof-positive photos. Last Sunday saw me in southernmost Ohio, along the Ohio River, where spring arrives considerably earlier than, say, Cleveland.

Enjoy, and if you live in points north, take hope. Spring is rolling your way.

Ohio's woodlands are increasingly blushed with green, causing some to remark on the embryonic leafout of certain trees as they cast an eye over forestscapes. At least as of yet, it isn't newly emergent leaves that are causing the flush of green - it's the collective flowers of blooming Sugar Maple, Acer saccharum. The individual flowers dangle on lengthy pedicels, as if attached to strings controlled by a marionette hidden in the buds.

This beautiful treelet is a sure sign of spring, and a welcome sight for sore eyes. Serviceberry, Amelanchier arborea, is just hitting its stride. It's one of the first woody plants in the forest to burst into bloom. Later, the plants will be festooned with sugary berries that are a Cedar Waxwing's addiction.

A bonafide crowd-pleaser, the tiny Blue-eyed Mary, Collinsia verna. This diminutive annual often forms large drifts - carpets, really - and a streamside forest so endowed is an unforgettable spectacle.

Up close and personal, the flowers have a distinctive charm, and should capture the fancy of anyone with a camera.

A much less conspicuous spring wildflower is the Trailing Arbutus, Epigaea repens. I once came across an old article from an Ohio botanist describing its rarity. Trailing Arbutus is certainly not rare, at least in certain quarters - it's just easy to overlook. The foliage of this trailing heath is evergreen, and by flowering time in early spring the leaves are looking rather ratty and undistinguished. One must move in close and peek under the old leaves to see the flowers, which are often in hiding.

There's no missing this purple stunner. I would say that, architecturally, the flowers of the Dwarf Larkspur, Delphinium tricorne, are among my favorite. They resemble a witch's hat. This buttercup family representative often grows in profusion in rich woods.

An artful palette of color indeed. The golden flowers of Wood Poppy, Stylophorum diphyllum, are in the foreground. A wand or two of purple larkspur flowers rise beyond the poppies, and the backdrop is framed with one of our most sensational spring wildflowers.

I visited a steep wooded slope right along the Ohio River that was carpeted blue with Virginia Bluebells, Mertensia virginica. Luckily for me, they were in absolute peak bloom - acres of the plants! The window for such eye candy is brief. Bluebells are among our most ephemeral wildflowers, and quickly wither to nothingness after putting on their sensational blue show.

Even individually, a bluebell is a striking plant. Seen in masses of thousands, they are shocking in the best possible way, and herald spring's arrival beyond any doubt.

An extremely hardy caterpillar

Bobcat versus Raccoons, with bonus Gray Fox in catnip

Birding Optics & Gear Expo: March 23 & 24

Ruffed Grouse, strutting his stuff!

Salamanders sluggish this spring

Mothapalooza updates!

Gray Squirrels also come in black

Feral cats and birds: the "debate" can be brutal

Ohio Botanical Symposium approaches!

A snow white Turkey Vulture!

Finally, up comes the flora

"Bigfoot", finally indisputably documented, in Ohio!

Green Lawn Cemetery sports some "good" birds

Birds of Worthington - free program, April 17!

South Carolina

Congaree National Park

Bee flies

An orgy of toads

Yellow Jessamine

An avalanche of wildflowers!