Final Excursion of 2020

This afternoon, as a snowstorm approaches central Missouri, my wife and I made a final trip to Phillip's Lake for the year.  High clouds, cold air and a steady, southeast breeze made for a chilly walk and the lake's surface was almost totally frozen.

Nevertheless, a trio of ruddy ducks and a lone beaver were observed on the open waters while a ring-billed gull circled overhead.  Other birds were relatively few and far between, dominated by flocks of white-crowned and American tree sparrows.  An American kestrel was the only raptor to grace the scene though a group of crows argued from a lakeside meadow.

In a way, it was a fitting final excursion for 2020, a year we'd just as soon forget.  Then again, nature has always provided welcome escapes during this difficult period, regardless of the weather conditions or the variety of wildlife sightings.  Whether our predicament improves in 2021 or not, we can always count on her wondrous ecosystems to offer solace and inspiration.  Happy New Year!

The Croatian Earthquakes

A magnitude 6.4 earthquake struck Croatia yesterday, a day after a magnitude 5.2 quake shook the same region; aftershocks are sure to follow.  Indeed, the Balkans are highly prone to earthquakes due to the regional geology and natural history.

As the Atlantic Ocean and Indian Ocean continue to open, the African Plate has been moving to the NNE, colliding with the Eurasian Plate.  In addition, the Red Sea (the northern section of the East African Rift) is opening as well, shoving the Arabian Plate to the northeast.  Between the African, Arabian and Eurasian Plates, several microplanes (including the Adriatic and Anatolian Plates) complicate the tectonics from Italy to the Middle East.  Slow motion collisions create rising pressure within and along these plates; intermittent earthquakes release that pressure.

Unfortunately, building codes throughout most of the region have not kept pace with that threat and even minor quakes can cause significant destruction and loss of life.  The geology and tectonics of the Balkans cannot be altered; the political will to protect the populace will offer their only means of defense.

The Dusk Sparrows

As the winter dusk shrouds our property in central Missouri, a flock of white-throated sparrows reliably turns up to forage in the dry flower beds and shrub lines.  Summer residents of forested areas across Canada, the Great Lakes and New England, they are unfazed by the cold evening air.

White-throated sparrows generally arrive in Missouri by mid October, content to spend the winter in our "balmy" climate.  Feeding on the ground or in low thickets, they primarily feast on seeds but also consume berries.  By late winter, their homesick tune begins to intensify and, by mid April, the weather is too warm for these hardy songbirds, sending them back to the North Country.

Knowing that these sparrows could easily head to the Gulf Coast for the winter, Midwest birders certainly appreciate their company during the cold, dark season of winter.  By dropping in at dusk, the white-throats seem to acknowledge and encourage that sentiment. 

A Southwest Storm

As another snowstorm moves across the Northern Plains and Great Lakes region, a second system sits off the coast of Southern California this morning, pumping in much-needed moisture from the Pacific Ocean.  Rain will fall across lower elevations while significant snow should coat the mountains.

Riding along the southern edge of a deep atmospheric trough, this storm will also drop snow across the drought-plagued terrain of the Four Corners region before moving onto the Southern Plains.  Nearing the Mississippi Valley, it is expected to angle to the northeast, bringing a mix of winter precipitation to the lower Missouri and Ohio Valleys before reaching the Northeastern U.S. by New Year's Eve.

Most of the Pacific storms this winter have come ashore in the Pacific Northwest, dropping their cargo of snow across the Cascades, Northern Sierra Nevada, Northern Great Basin Ranges, Wasatch Front and the Northern and Central Rockies.  This southern storm will, to some degree, rectify that imbalance and bring vital moisture to the ecosystems of the Desert Southwest.

The Alborz Mountains

While watching Tehran, a miniseries on Apple TV (which I recommend), one repeatedly sees the majestic mountain wall just north of the city.  These are the Alborz Mountains and the snowy massif near Tehran is Tochal, elevation 13,005 feet.

Wrapped along the southwest and southern coasts of the Caspian Sea, the Alborz Range crumpled up during the mid-late Tertiary Period as the Tethys Sea closed and the Arabian Plate collided with the Eurasian Plate, a process that continues today.  In concert with that uplift, volcanism occurred in some areas and Mt. Damavand, northeast of Tehran, is a volcanic cone that rises to 18,406 feet, the highest point in the Middle East.

Though less famous than the Alps and the Himalayas, the geologic and natural history of the Alborz Mountains is very similar; indeed, they are one of multiple smaller ranges that connect the Alps and Himalayas, creating a mountain corridor from France to Southeast Asia.

Just behind the Front

Today, a potent cold front pushed across the Midwest, bringing blizzard conditions to the Northern Plains. Here in central Missouri, we enjoyed a mild, breezy morning as southwest winds pushed warm air and a few showers ahead of the front.  Knowing that frigid air would invade our region for the next couple of days, I opted for a visit to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area before the weather deteriorated.

By the time I reached the refuge, the cold front had passed through and a chilly, northwest wind raked the floodplain.  While I encountered a good variety of waterfowl, other birds were few and far between, seemingly aware of the approaching Arctic blast.  An exception was a trio of bald eagles, cavorting in the  cold wind and dipping to send clouds of waterfowl into the air.

Though my visit was brief and the sightings were limited, the crisp, clear air augmented the beauty of the Missouri River Valley.  Besides, I was free to return to my heated home before the temperature plummets later in the day; the wild residents of Eagle Bluffs must adapt or move on to the south.

The Jupiter-Saturn Conjunction

Just after sunset this evening, I went out back to observe the Jupiter-Saturn Conjunction, which reaches its "tightest pass" tonight.  It was easy to find a bright, single point of light in the southwest sky but I needed binoculars to see that it represented both planets (Jupiter being far larger and brighter).

Saturn was just to the right and just above Jupiter.  Of course, this conjunction, the "closest" in 800 years, is purely a result of our vantage point.  In fact, Saturn is just over 1 billion miles from Earth while Jupiter is "only" 550 million miles from our home planet.  Nevertheless, the close proximity of these gas giants, however illusional, was an inspiring sight to behold.

Indeed, many natural spectacles are not what they seem to be.  While it is important to understand their scientific explanation (lest we be drawn to mysticism), their appearance can be an emotional experience nonetheless.  

Our Essential Congress Members?

As the new Covid-19 vaccines roll out, U.S. Congress members have been among the first to receive them, in the name of Government continuity.  Never mind the fact that the action and inaction of our Congressional representatives have put us in the predicament that we find ourselves today.

Throughout the pandemic, half of the Congressional membership backed Trump's disdain for mask wearing and other preventive measures.  Almost as many have condoned (if not fostered) his post election antics which have impaired any recent effective response to the crisis.  Then there are those who have been throwing up roadblocks when bills to offer relief to unemployed citizens, small businesses and nearly bankrupt States have been presented.

Yes, many members of Congress who have been complicit in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Americans are among those first in line for the cure.  Their lack of courage is now matched by their lack of morality. 

The Undaunted

Driving along treacherous, snow-glazed roads through strong gusts of Arctic air is a daunting experience for most humans.  It surely was for us on the High Plains this past Tuesday morning and, despite an official speed limit of 75 mph, we rarely exceeded fifty.  But, for two winter residents of that stark ecosystem, it was just another early winter day.

Clouds of longspurs (likely primarily Lapland longspurs), rose and wheeled above the highway, moving from one patch of barren ground or crop stubble to another.  Having spent the summer in the high Arctic, these hardy birds winter across the Northern Plains, often mingling with horned larks and snow buntings.  Feeding on a mix of insects and seeds during the warmer months, they consume seeds and waste grain on their wintering grounds.

Rough-legged hawks, also oblivious of the weather conditions, hovered into the strong north wind, searching the ground for mice, voles and other small mammals.  When not hunting, they simply perched on a fencepost or billboard, unfazed by the raging ground blizzard.  Also natives of the high Arctic, these large raptors surely feel right at home on the wide-open landscape of the High Plains, however brutal the weather.

Nor'Easter on the Plains

When we left our Littleton farm yesterday morning, an overnight cold front had dropped three inches of fresh, powdery snow along the Front Range.  As we drove east across the High Plains, northeasterly winds began to increase, sending streamers of snow across the highway; unfortunately, several trucks were toppled by the gusts.

The snowy landscape and high winds persisted across western Kansas but, by the time we reached WaKeeney, they were replaced by a calm, snowy mist as the storm system had dipped farther to the south. Indeed, eastern Kansas and western Missouri were unscathed by the potent system, safely within the confines of the atmospheric trough.

Today, the winter storm is moving through the Tennessee and Ohio River Valleys, soon to pull in abundant moisture from the Atlantic Ocean.  As the central low moves up the Northeast Coast, it is expected to drop prodigious amounts of snow across most of Pennsylvania and New England; high winds will produce blizzard conditions in some areas and a true New England Nor'Easter will unfold.

A Distrust of Science

Now that the first COVID-19 vaccine is available and ready for distribution, about 30% of Americans say they are unwilling to receive it and another 10% are uncertain.  Of course, in these politically charged times, when even the use of a mask is considered to be an infringement on our personal freedom and when a small but significant percentage of the population still believe the pandemic is a hoax, being asked to get vaccinated is a bridge too far.

Then there are those who worry that the entire process of vaccine development was unsafely rushed and those young, healthy individuals who feel that they are immune to complications from the virus.  Finally, a sizable segment of our society leans on mysticism to guide their life and therefore distrust science in all of its forms.

We thus face another potential crisis in our effort to combat COVID-19.  If we cannot convince at least 70% of the population to receive the vaccine, we will not reach herd immunity and the virus will continue to circulate in our society.  Hopefully, the Biden Administration will do a far better job of providing science-based facts that are willingly accepted by the American public; if not, the pandemic will continue until enough humans are culled to halt its spread.

The Topography of Metro Denver

Those who have never visited Denver, Colorado, tend to assume that it is surrounded by mountains.  In fact, the city stretches along the base of the Front Range (to its west) and its topography consists primarily of two valleys that merge in the downtown area and then continue northward as a single, broad valley.

The Front Range and its foothills are the most prominent geographic feature of Metro Denver but one also notices a ridge of high ground to the south.  This ridge, now occupied by Highlands Ranch, Lone Tree and Castle Pines, extends northward through Centennial and the Denver Tech Center (along Interstate 25); it divides the Cherry Creek Valley, to the east, from the Plum Creek-South Platte Valley to the west.  The upper tributaries of Cherry Creek and Plum Creek rise along the north side of the Palmer Divide; the latter is a high ridge that stretches west to east between Denver and Colorado Springs, dividing the watersheds of the South Platte River ( to the north) from that of the Arkansas River (to the south).

The South Platte rises in the mountains southwest of Denver and exits the foothills via Waterton Canyon, in southwest Metro Denver.  Within a mile, the River enters Chatfield Reservoir where it receives the flow from Plum Creek.  Below that reservoir, the South Platte flows NNE through Metro Denver, receiving several tributaries from the mountains and merging with Cherry Creek at Confluence Park in downtown Denver.  North of the city, the South Platte River continues northward and then northeastward, taking in many more tributaries from the Front Range and from the High Plains of northeastern Colorado.

A Loner in the Crowd

The other day, while reading outside, I was frequently distracted by the mixed flocks of chickadees, finches, juncos, nuthatches and woodpeckers that moved about our farm.  Then, a loner landed in the elm next to my chair and inched his way up the trunk.

The visitor was a brown creeper, down from the mountains for the winter.  Brown creepers breed across Southern Canada, the Great Lakes Region and New England and southward through the Appalachians and mountain corridors of the West. There they favor mature forest where they construct their nest in loose bark or small tree cavities.

Usually seen alone during the winter months, brown creepers circle up tree trunks and large limbs, searching for insects, spiders and their eggs and larvae; they also visit suet blocks and consume small seeds.  These "bark birds" are always a welcome sight among our more common avian neighbors.

A Futile Protest

Last evening, just before dusk, the frantic calls of black-billed magpies drew me to the kitchen door.  Looking out, I saw that a large, female Cooper's hawk had snared one of them and was completing its kill on the driveway, her wings spread to shroud the victim.

Agitated but helpless, at least twenty magpies shrieked from the nearby trees and garage roof, unwilling to attack the raptor.  Indeed, Cooper's hawks (especially females), like their larger cousin the northern goshawk, are among the only raptors bold enough to feast on magpies which, themselves, are large, aggressive and gregarious birds.

As the noisy protest continued, the hawk dragged her victim into a grove of piñon pines and proceeded to pluck the black and white feathers from its carcass.  By the time that chore was completed, the magpies had dispersed and the Cooper's hawk enjoyed her evening meal in peace. 

A Brilliant Dryness

A broad atmospheric trough currently extends across most of the Lower 48 States, allowing dry, cool air to  plunge southward from Canada.  Dew points are below zero degrees (F) in some parts of the West.

Here along the Colorado Front Range, the air is crystal clear; bright sunshine has pushed the afternoon high into the mid 40s F, with a dew point of 1 degree F.  In other words, the air is so dry that its temperature would have to fall to 1 degree F before fog or precipitation could develop.

Of course, this brilliant dryness, while producing spectacular vistas, is not currently welcome across the West, where a severe drought persists, augmenting the risk of wildfire.  High pressure within the trough is shunting Pacific moisture toward Alaska and the Pacific Northwest and, until this "blocking high" breaks down, hope for snow is but a dream.   

Toward the Cold Moon

As we left Columbia this morning, the full moon gleamed from the western sky.  It was easy to imagine that the bright orb was much closer than the Colorado Front Range, which we wouldn't reach until evening; in fact, it would take us 300 days to cover the distance to Earth's natural satellite.

December's full moon is known as the Cold Moon since it appears during the first meteorologic month of winter.  However, the sunlit surface of the moon is anything but cold, reaching 260 degrees F due to the lack of an atmosphere; on the other hand, the temperature in deep craters on the dark side of the moon is thought to plummet as low as minus 450 degrees F (quite cold).

Of course, gazing at the disc of our familiar nightlight, we do not need nor do we seek such statistics.  We are taken by her beauty and reassured by her permanence, even if she is drifting farther from our home.  

800 Miles Upriver

Tomorrow we will leave Missouri and return to our Littleton, Colorado, farm, a drive of approximately 800 miles.  The entire journey, except for a short section near Limon, Colorado, will be within the vast watershed of the Missouri River.

After crossing the Missouri about ten miles west of Columbia, we will not encounter that River again since its main channel, which rises in southwestern Montana (photo), is well north of our route.  Nevertheless, every river and stream that we do cross on our journey will be a tributary of the Missouri; while we dip into the Arkansas River watershed near Limon, we will ford only a few seasonal creeks in that area.

Within a half mile of our farm, we cross the South Platte River.  Rising in the mountains around South Park (the South Fork) and near Kenosha Pass (the North Fork), the South Platte drains most of northeastern Colorado, including the eastern slope of the Front Range.  It merges with the North Platte River at North Platte, Nebraska, forming the Platte River; this braided, shallow river flows eastward and enters the Missouri just south of Omaha.  Though our trip will take an entire day, we will cross but a small portion of the Missouri's massive watershed. 

The Basking Tree

A large black walnut tree in our neighbor's yard catches the morning sun and, during the colder months, attracts squirrels and a good variety of songbirds as they attempt to warm up before a day of foraging.  Clearly visible from our back deck, it offers a convenient survey of our wild neighbors.

On this bright, chilly morning, I observed only ten avian species during a fifty minute vigil but twice that number are encountered on some mornings.  The barren limbs offer unobstructed views and the birds, enjoying the solar heat after a cold night, are often relatively still.  Indeed, such a scenario is recommended for beginning birders as they struggle to identify new winter residents and visitors.

While most birders and naturalists enjoy tramping through fields, forests and wetlands in pursuit of their quarry, we sometimes see more species in a shorter period of time in our own backyard.  Having a nearby basking tree augments that experience.

Many to Thank

Nearing the end of this difficult year, there are many individuals to thank on this National Holiday.  First, of course, are the front-line medical teams, who have risked their lives to treat those with Covid-19, as well as those who have worked to provide the essential services and products that keep the rest of us safe and healthy.  The medical researchers, whose expertise have brought us the promise of vaccines within the next few months, also deserve our sincere gratitude.

Next are all who worked toward the successful election of Joe Biden, from the campaign workers to the poll workers and especially those election officials who have resisted Trump's ongoing efforts to delegitimize the results.  Their efforts have rescued our Democracy and will, in time, turn out to be vital in addressing climate change, human rights and international relationships, among other important issues.

As the pandemic has taught us, we cannot take life for granted and, as the Trump Administration has shown, we cannot assume that American Democracy and our Constitution are invulnerable.  My personal thanks to all who have demonstrated the courage to insure their protection.

Novembers Remembered

Growing up in Cincinnati, Ohio, I recall thinking of November as a cold, gray, windy month, redeemed only by the Thanksgiving Holiday; over the past week, that nostalgic image has been confirmed here in central Missouri.  To borrow a phrase from the Eagles, "the sky won't snow and the sun won't shine."

Of course, as children, we pay little attention to the weather, not intimidated by forecasts or conditions; if it's not a school day, we're out with friends, active enough to ward off the late autumn chill.  As adults, we are much more aware of the weather, heeding the warnings of local or national meteorologists and perhaps influenced by the memories of Novembers past.

But some of us, attuned to nature's cycles and stirred by the spectacles that November often brings, are inclined to seek solace in the great outdoors as the days shorten.  We know to dress for the experience or we conduct our exploration from the comfort of a heated vehicle.  After all, we are no longer children; compared to them, we are a cautious bunch.

Time to ignore Trump

President Trump will not be changing his approach to the pandemic, climate change, conservation, human rights, international relationships, healthcare and immigration over the next sixty days.  Rather, he will be focused on the election, spreading lies to explain away his loss and making Joe Biden's ascent to power as complicated as possible.

It is time to ignore Trump (with the exception of any executive orders that he might choose to sign).  We do not need to hear about every tweet, lawsuit or pronouncement that emanates from Our Dear Leader or his sycophants.  Hopefully, the press (and especially the cable news media) will shift their attention to the Biden transition team and the policies that they plan to implement.

Trump feeds on public attention and the adoration of his followers.  By taking away his megaphone, we will reassure allies and calm the political turmoil that pervades this country.  Time to cut the cord of rhetoric and drama.  Trump's reign is over; judgment awaits.

Birding between the Shooting

During duck season, Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, on the Missouri River floodplain, is half-open for wildlife viewing between 1 PM and 3 PM.  On this cool, cloudy and showery afternoon, a friend and I took advantage of the hunting hiatus and made a brief visit to the refuge.

Our first sighting was of a distant flock of geese, heading northward through the valley; the lighting and distance made identification difficult though their flight pattern suggested they were snows.  A good variety of ducks on the pools and central channel was dominated by mallards, ring-necks and coot, though redheads, northern shovelers, lesser scaup, green-winged teal and ruddy ducks were also observed.  Other sightings included a pair of bald eagles, great blue herons and pied billed grebes.

Despite the weather and the limited viewing time, it was (and always is) worth the short drive down from Columbia.  Human hunters may rule the refuge for the next two months but I don't envy their time in the cold muck; we are not naturally designed for duck habitat.

The Nature of Fear

Throughout the Animal Kingdom, most species experience instinctual fear, triggered by sights, sounds, and smells that threaten their welfare or survival,  We humans, endowed with a large, complex brain, experience fear in various forms.

During childhood, fear is often a constructive emotion; fear of punishment or injury molds our social behavior.  On the other hand, irrational fears (e.g. mysticism, fear of non-threatening insects, etc.) is also instilled during these formative years.

As adults, we have many appropriate fears that govern our behavior, generally induced when risk outweighs benefit.  But, depending on our experience and psychological development, we may also fear interpersonal commitments, new challenges and the unknown, among other aspects of life.  Some fear overwhelms courage, limiting action that would be constructive for ourselves, our family or society as a whole; Republican Congress members, frozen by the tyranny of Trump and his minions, offer a good example. 

The Republican River

Just east of Limon, Colorado, Interstate 70 climbs onto the steep, High Plains escarpment, where a large wind farm extends off to the north.  At the crest of that ridge, one leaves the Arkansas River watershed and enters that of the Missouri River.

More specifically, the Interstate begins to cross the upper watershed of the Republican River, a secondary tributary of the Missouri.  Rising SSW of Flagler, Colorado, the river's main channel crosses under the highway just east of that town, flowing northeastward toward Nebraska.  Receiving seasonal flow from numerous streams of northeast Colorado, northwest Kansas and southernmost Nebraska, the Republican passes through McCook, Nebraska before winding eastward just north of the Kansas border.  Finally dipping to the southeast, the river passes through Milford Lake and then courses along the north side of Junction City, Kansas, where it merges with the Smoky Hill River to form the Kansas River; the latter flows into the Missouri River at Kansas City.

Though it is a major river of the High Plains, flowing for more than 450 miles and draining a relatively large watershed, the Republican, like many other streams of the Great Plains, is unknown to the traveler who uses our Interstates and primary highways.  Its upper tributaries (and even its upper main channel) are dry for much of the year, their course marked only by the shrubs and trees that cluster along their banks.  But for wildlife of the High Plains, such streams offer vital riverine habitat for nesting, denning, feeding and escaping the harsh weather of that vast, semiarid ecosystem.

A Lasting Tragedy

Today marks the 50th Anniversary of the Marshall University plane crash that killed most of the football team, coaches and some fans.  Among the victims were three of my high school classmates, one of whom had been a close friend since grade school.  That tragedy ended my age of innocence and doused any flames of mysticism that still influenced my life.

I still recall learning of that horrific event and often think of the victims, especially on the anniversary of the crash and on my birthdays.  Conscious of the fragility of life and the too often random nature of death, I appreciate every year and have long since given up worrying about my age; we were only 20 at the time of the accident and I am now 70, fortunate to have experienced so much more during my time on this planet.

No doubt, some see a divine plan when such tragedies occur but it is clear to me that bad luck, foul weather and human error were the only culprits.  While we have some control over our longevity, primarily by engaging in a healthy lifestyle, good genes and good luck are equally important.  Their luck ran out fifty years ago and ours could end tomorrow. 

Eta the Wanderer

After bringing devastation to coastal areas of Central America, Hurricane Eta weakened to a Tropical Storm and headed toward Cuba.  Crossing that island nation, the storm's counterclockwise winds brought torrential rain and storm surge to Southern Florida; some areas of Metro Miami received 1.5 feet of rain.

Following another landfall in the western Keys, Eta has entered the Gulf of Mexico, churning slowly to the WSW.  Some models suggest the storm will turn back to the northeast, striking the Great Bend region of Florida, while others indicate it will head north, making a fourth landfall along the northern Gulf Coast.

Of course, Eta does not have a mind of her own.  Her wandering course has been determined by high pressure domes and atmospheric troughs, steering her back and forth across the Caribbean and the Gulf of Mexico.  The next impact on her course will likely come from a potent cold front that brought four inches of snow to Metro Denver yesterday and is now spreading snow and thunderstorms across the Northern Plains.  If the front drops far enough south, it will sweep Eta to the northeast or east; if not, the tropical storm may hang out in the Gulf of Mexico, potentially strengthening into a hurricane once again or simply fizzling out.  We may not know for a few more days. 

The Buzzards Bay Earthquake

The Western Coast of North America is, geologically speaking, an active margin, where the Pacific Plate is scraping past the North American Plate (Southern California) and where remnants of the Farallon Plate are subducting beneath the North American Plate (Mexico and the Pacific Northwest).  Intermittent powerful earthquakes occur along or near the coast and volcanic activity and tsunamis threaten the subduction zones.

The East Coast, by contrast, lies on the passive margin of North America, moving westward as the Atlantic Ocean opens, a process that has been ongoing for 150 million years.  Prior to the Atlantic's opening, Earth's land masses had merged into the mega-Continent of Pangea (some 225 MYA); when Pangea broke apart, the new fractures did not always match the old suture lines (e.g. some Continental crust, formerly part of the African Plate, now form sections of our East Coast, primarily in Southern New England and Florida).  As the Atlantic continues to open and pressure builds within the North American Plate, minor earthquakes develop along those old suture lines and their associated faults.

Yesterday's magnitude 3.6 earthquake, centered over Buzzards Bay off New Bedford, was felt across coastal Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut.  Reported to be the strongest earthquake in Southern New England in several decades, it reflects geologic events that were set in motion back in the Mesozoic Era, when dinosaurs ruled the planet.

Land of Laccoliths

Laccoliths are isolated rock formations, mountains or mountain ranges that result from the injection of magma into overlying layers of sedimentary rock.  Cooling into igneous rock, the laccolith is uncovered as the crust in which it lies is uplifted by tectonic forces and the softer sediments encasing it erode away.

Some of the most famous laccoliths in the United States are found in the Four Corners region of the Colorado Plateau.  The La Sal Range, just southeast of Moab, the Abajo Mountains, west of Monticello, the Henry Mountains, west of Canyonlands National Park and Navajo Peak, ENE of Page, Arizona (just north of the Utah-Arizona border), are prominent features of the landscape in southeastern Utah.  In extreme southwestern Colorado, Sleeping Ute Mountain (southwest of Cortez; photo below) and the La Plata Range (northwest of Durango) are well known laccoliths.

The intrusions in Utah occurred during the Oligocene and Miocene Periods (20-30 million years ago) while those in southwest Colorado were emplaced during the Laramide Orogeny (the first uplift of the Rocky Mountain Chain), some 65-70 MYA.  Of course, over the coming eons, these scenic mountains will also succumb to the relentless forces of wind, water and ice.  Better go see them before it's too late! 

The Challenge Begins

Now that Joe Biden has secured the Presidential election, his daunting challenge begins: successfully healing the political and cultural rifts that divide this country.  In my opinion, his approach must come from the middle where he might be able to establish a coalition that includes moderate Democrats and Republicans.

On the other hand, that coalition must address the issues that have fueled discontent in America.  Among these are access to affordable and high quality healthcare, attention to the many factors that are fueling climate change, efforts to resolve the inequalities wrought by racism and social status, a commitment to building an economy that benefits all Americans and, of course, a science-based approach to the ongoing pandemic.  The Biden Administration must demonstrate support for religious freedom while also ensuring freedom from religion.

Appeasing the far left will be difficult and earning the cooperation of the far right, poisoned by Trumpism, may be impossible.  But, despite the rancor and rhetoric that has dominated the news for the past four years, most Americans will respond to decency, sincerity, open communication and a commitment to address their problems.  Conspiracy theories must be quickly debunked by both sides of the aisle and governmental policies must be based on truth and scientific facts.  I wish him well in this difficult task.

A Prolonged October

 Our homes in Littleton, Colorado, and Columbia, Missouri lie in the same latitudinal belt of North America, where the four seasons of the year are fully developed.  Of course, their elevations differ by 4600 feet and their climates differ due to that factor, their proximity to ocean water and the local geography (i.e. the high mountain barrier west of Littleton).

Nevertheless, in both regions of the Continent, the effects of global warming are becoming manifest.  Hotter summers and milder winters are most evident as are less precipitation in Colorado and more in Missouri, the former leading to drought and wildfires and the latter triggering floods.  And as I have reported in past entries to this blog, the peak autumn waterfowl migration seems to be occurring later in the fall at both locations, reflecting more prolonged open water across northern latitudes.

Indeed, in recent years, the weather in November has been more typical of that previously associated with October; warm days and cool nights have become the norm for much of the month.  While November has traditionally been one of the snowiest months along the Colorado Front Range, that pattern seems to be changing as well.  Perhaps my observations are purely anecdotal but the extremely active hurricane and wildfire seasons certainly lend support.

Back at South Platte Park

Having not visited South Platte Park since spring, I met a fellow birder there to peruse the autumn bird population.  Though we did encounter a fair variety of species, the numbers were not impressive on this beautiful November morning.

American wigeon dominated the waterfowl population, joined by northern shovelers, green-winged teal, gadwall, American coot, hooded mergansers, buffleheads and Canada geese; far less common were mallards, common mergansers, redheads and common goldeneyes.  A solitary western grebe graced Eaglewatch Lake and a group of shorebirds (killdeer, Wilson's snipe and a single lesser yellowlegs) foraged on the mudflats of Bufflehead Lake.  Raptors were absent during my ninety-minute visit and songbirds were limited to common, permanent residents of the Park.

As in recent years, the autumn waterfowl migration is behind schedule, likely reflecting a slower freeze-up across Canada and the Northern Plains.  Despite the lackluster birding, it was good to be back at South Platte Park, one of the more appealing nature preserves in south Metro Denver.

Soil, Plants & Global Warming

Last evening, while surfing the options on Netflix, I came across Kiss the Ground, a documentary focused on the role that soil and plants play in the carbon cycle.  In particular, the show discussed how deforestation and desertification (primarily due to agricultural practices) have decimated these carbon sinks and greatly exacerbated the process of global warming.

By removing trees and tilling grasslands for crop fields, topsoil has been severely depleted across the planet; furthermore, the repeated use of pesticides, herbicides and artificial fertilizers has sterilized the soil, destroying the microbes that are responsible for returning carbon to the soil.  In addition, the widespread use of feedlots and mechanized hog farms has deprived grasslands of natural fertilization.

Most importantly, the documentary points out that our conversion to clean energy and electric vehicles will only serve to slow or stabilize global warming.  The excess carbon dioxide in Earth's atmosphere can only be diminished by reversing our impact on natural ecosystems, i.e. by converting to no-till agriculture, by reverting to open range, grass fed livestock management, by recycling food waste and by halting deforestation and planting trees.  I highly recommend the documentary.

Near Death Experience

Reading outside late this morning, I occasionally glanced toward the bird feeding area where fox squirrels also forage for seed.  Just before heading indoors, I witnessed a near death event as our resident red fox suddenly attacked from a shrub line, chasing one of the squirrels and briefly pinning him by the tail.

Fortunately, for the squirrel, the fox lost his grip and the agile target scampered up a nearby tree.  Trotting away, the fox settled back in the shrubs where he endured scolding by a posse of blue jays and magpies.  On the positive side, for the fox, he appeared to be in better condition than the last time I saw him and I am now more convinced that he will survive the winter (while keeping our cottontail, squirrel, vole and mice populations in check).

It is not often that we have the opportunity to witness such an attack, especially near mid-day, and we are acutely reminded that sudden death is a regular event in the natural world.  Of course, we are also subject to an unexpected demise, something we prefer not to dwell on.

The Scary Forty Percent

It's Halloween, our annual opportunity to feign fear of the ghosts, goblins and giant cheese doodles that appear on our doorstep (at least in pre-Covid years).  But far scarier are the forty percent of Americans who support, or at least condone, the destructive antics of Our Dear Leader.

Willing to accept his conspiracy theories, ignore his lies, laugh at his racist and misogynistic jokes and defend his world view, however sick and self-centered that might be, these evangelical Christians, right wing Republicans, white supremacists and uneducated citizens will not go away, even if Trump loses the election in a landslide.  Of course, his sycophants in Congress, solely focused on their indefinite re-election, will jump ship if a Blue Wave develops but they have done enough damage already, sowing anti-science rhetoric and standing by while Trump pummels our environmental regulations.

While I am fairly optimistic that Joe Biden will win the election, Trump and his minions will still have more that two months to chip away at American Democracy and scuttle laws that protect human rights, ensure quality healthcare for all, fund scientific research and fight global warming.  Covid-19 will have many more months to infect those who attend Trump adoration rallies (and thereafter spread through our communities) and our Allies will have to wait another two months before effective American leadership is in place.  Scary times!  Vote for Biden/Harris!!

A Blue Hunter's Moon

Arriving in Colorado last evening, I was greeted by a bright full moon, rising above the Eastern Plains of our State.  Throughout the night, it cast deep shadows across our farm before setting in the West, an hour before sunrise.

This is the second full moon this month and is thus commonly referred to as a blue moon, an astronomical event that occurs every 2-3 years.  Since the full moon in early October was the closest full moon to the autumn equinox, it was designated this year's Harvest Moon.  That, by tradition, makes this late October full moon the Hunter's Moon, known for its brightness and its facilitation of nocturnal hunting.

Human hunters, deficient in natural night vision, appreciate the heavenly spotlight.  Great horned owls, on the other hand, manage just fine in the dark; nevertheless, two of those raptors, hooting to each other last night, seemed to be enjoying the moon-lit landscape.  Halloween weekend at its best!

First Snows at Eagle Bluffs

Following the first major Arctic blast of the season, I observed multiple flocks of snow geese at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning.  During my brief visit, at least 850 of those inspiring travelers passed above the refuge, their distinctive calls ringing from the low, gray overcast.

Other sightings of note included 30 greater white-fronted geese, five canvasbacks, fifteen pied-billed grebes, two pair of ruddy ducks and large flocks of American coot, significantly increased over the past few days.  But it was the appearance of snow geese that made my morning; a few weeks ahead of schedule, they were clearly driven south by the polar air mass that has spread across most of the Western and Central U.S.

No doubt, many more geese, swans and ducks will follow in their wake and Eagle Bluffs will soon take on its late autumn grandeur.  Since I will be returning to Colorado, I will miss that spectacle but feel fortunate to have encountered the snows on this cold, October morning.

The Nature of Hope

Hope is a human trait, yet another reflection of our large complex brain.  It might be defined as the wish for an outcome over which one has limited or no control.  Of course, hope is often, though not necessarily, tied to mysticism.

When we have full control over events that lead toward a goal, there is no need for hope.  Unfortunately, such situations are relatively rare in life and, by necessity, must be purely personal.  Once external factors, individuals or social systems are involved, hope comes into play.  We hope to stay well.  We hope to be loved.  We hope to be accepted into schools or businesses.  We hope that others share our convictions and hope that they will support measures to protect those commitments..

Some might argue that hope is a waste of intellectual energy.  Most likely believe that hope is essential for a healthy mind.  Few would deny that hope is a universal human trait but acknowledge that hope without action is futile.  Vote!!

Clueless at Earthquake Hollow

Looking for a new destination on this cloudy, cool day in central Missouri, my wife and I chose Earthquake Hollow Conservation Area, south of Fulton.  The small refuge consists of an open field and a parcel of forest, the latter bisected by a deep ravine (hence the name of this preserve).

Before leaving Columbia, I read that Earthquake Hollow is serviced my a small parking lot and accessed by a loop trail.  As we were hiking across the field on the entry path, it was clear that the refuge is not heavily utilized; the trail was merely a stomped down route through the grass and weeds.  Upon reaching the forest, our disappointment and confusion only increased as the forest floor was littered with leaves and broken limbs and no signage or blazes indicated the trail's location and route.

We thus spent an hour or so wandering through the forest and down into the ravine, partly looking for the trail but primarily just enjoying the forest; our only company was provided by a noisy pair of red-headed woodpeckers.  In the end, the scenery, exercise and fresh air were rewards enough for our visit. 

Early Hunting, Late Waterfowl

The southern half of Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area has been closed for duck hunting since October 15 and will remain inaccessible to the public until mid January.  Why the season was extended is uncertain, especially since migrant waterfowl have been arriving later in central Missouri for several years.

Indeed, the number and diversity of waterfowl have been low this October, a phenomenon that may reflect global warming; unlike songbirds, waterfowl migrate in response to weather conditions, escaping to the south when northern ponds and wetlands begin to freeze over.  This morning, a friend and I encountered about 60 mallards, 20 blue-winged teal and two ruddy ducks on the accessible portion of the refuge, hardly a large number and variety of waterfowl for late October.  Other sightings of interest included about 75 American coot, 16 American white pelicans, 5 pied-billed grebes, 3 double-crested cormorants and 3 bald eagles.

Since cold, snowy weather is currently moving across the Northern Plains, waterfowl may soon arrive at Eagle Bluffs in large numbers.  For now, the hunters have a head start, as non-productive as their early efforts may be.

Life in Review

During our youth, we humans tend to plow through life, unconcerned with our mortality and making choices based on what will make us happy.  To be fair, most of us make responsible choices, especially regarding our education and job opportunities, but our focus remains on ourselves.

By middle age, we cannot (and should not) ignore the needs of our spouse and children but we remain in the "what mode."  What should we do to ensure our family's welfare?  What can be said or done to influence the behavior and success of our children?  What career and financial choices will be most beneficial in the long run?

Once we are older, the whats have been responded to and the consequences are known.  More conscious of our mortality, we begin to ponder the whys of our life and have time to reflect on how it unfolded.  During that process, some regrets arise but, more importantly, we come to grips with who we are and why we made the choices that we did.  Such a review is enlightening and is at the heart of the wisdom that comes with age; whether that wisdom can be used to influence those in the "what stage" of their life is another matter. 

Summer Blows Back

After a string of cool, wintry days, summer has returned on strong southwest winds; this afternoon, our high in central Missouri has just passed 80 degrees F.  Clockwise winds around a high pressure dome, currently centered over the Carolinas, and counterclockwise winds around low pressure over southeastern Colorado are funneling warm air up from the Southern Plans and the Gulf of Mexico.

However, not far to our north and northwest the chilly air persists; Des Moines, Iowa, is 46 degrees F and Omaha, Nebraska, is 44.  Our summer-like interlude will be brief as the warm dome shifts eastward, northerly winds develop and Canadian high pressure invades the Heartland.  Highs in the 40s are expected for much of the next week with lows near freezing; indeed snow is forecast for next Tuesday (five days from now).

Such is the undulating pattern of autumn weather, especially across the Great Plains and Midwest.  Until the jet stream levels out for the winter (usually well south of our region) the atmospheric battles will continue.  In all likelihood, this is summer's last gasp but predicting the weather is a humbling pastime.

Winter Sparrows Arrive

Over the past few days, I have encountered winter sparrows in our yard and at local nature preserves.  Migrating in response to the solar cycle, they pay little attention to the gyrations in weather that often characterize a Midwestern autumn and, as natives of Canada, they are well equipped to deal with harsh conditions.

White-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos tend to be the most common winter sparrows in suburban areas while white-crowned, swamp and American tree sparrows prefer more rural habitats.  All of these species are relatively easy to identify (with a bit of practice) but their attraction to tall grass and thickets can pose a challenge for all birders.  Then there are the permanent residents (house, field, savanna and song sparrows) and the relatively uncommon winter species (fox and Harris' sparrows, for example) that mingle with the new arrivals and further complicate identification efforts.

An avid birder for more than forty years, I still find sparrows to be the most difficult species to distinguish in the field.  Nevertheless, I welcome the arrival of our winter sparrows and admire their willingness to spend the dark, quiet season in the less-than-balmy Heartland.

First Punch of Winter

An atmospheric trough dips through the Great Plains and Midwest today, bringing wintry temperatures as far south as North Texas.  Afternoon highs in the twenties (F) stretch across Montana, North Dakota and northern Minnesota while pockets of snow are scattered through the region, especially in southern Minnesota and Iowa.

Here in central Missouri, our temperature stands at 43 degrees F under cloudy skies, the coldest day of the season so far.  Just beyond the reach of the trough the warmth of mid-October persists and it will return to much of the Midwest as the dip in the jet stream moves off to the east.

This early taste of winter may or may not signal a long or especially severe season.  What it will likely do in the meantime is hasten waterfowl migration through the Heartland as ponds and wetlands begin to freeze up north.  After a sluggish start, that development would be welcome indeed.

October at Bradford Farm

On this cool, cloudy morning in central Missouri, I visited Bradford Farm, east of town.  An agricultural research center of the University of Missouri, it is also a local birding hotspot; three ponds and several tree lines add diversity to the rolling crop fields.

This morning, a flock of gadwall graced one of the larger ponds, joined by a trio of ruddy ducks, a few mallards and a pair of pied-billed grebes.  Northern harriers, American kestrels and American crows patrolled the farm while mourning doves, European starlings, red-winged blackbirds and savannah sparrows foraged on the dry fields.  Other sightings included killdeer and white-crowned sparrows.

While my visit was not terribly productive from a birding point of view, I always enjoy an excursion to Bradford Farm where one can just pull over and enjoy the rural landscape, all the while scouring the skies for raptors and migrant waterfowl.  It is still a bit early for the latter but flocks of snow and greater white-fronted geese will soon arrive from the north, lifting the spirits of many outdoor enthusiasts during this difficult year.  

An Early Death

Running errands this morning, I encountered a fawn, smeared across the pavement of a local highway.  Carcasses of raccoon and opossum also littered that stretch of road but the death of a young deer was especially sad.

No doubt, many Americans would not mourn the death of a white-tailed deer, regardless of its age.  Relegated to narrow greenbelts by the development of human neighborhoods, the deer often help themselves to the plants that adorn our properties.  After all, they lived here first.

Of course, in nature, the young and the old are often the victims of predation, a gruesome fact that is well-known but rarely observed (except when glimpsed in a nature documentary).  But to die young in the "circle of life" is one thing; to succumb to a speeding vehicle, often at the hands of a careless driver, is quite another.

DNA Transfer

We have all had the experience.  Setting off on a road trip, we soon discover that an unwelcome passenger is along for the ride.....a house fly.  Such an event occurred today as we left Denver early this morning and drove to Columbia, Missouri.

Try as we might, we could not dislodge (or kill) our stowaway and it would intermittently buzz our heads.  Leaving the windows open or the doors ajar at rest stops did not encourage his departure.  For all I know, he is still in the car, now in Columbia, or may be exploring our yard.

Such experiences often make me wonder if we are disrupting the natural balance of the planet, potentially injecting alien genes into the local fly population.  Perhaps we will create an army of super-flies; alternatively, we may decimate the regional fly population by releasing the foreign agent.  It's not like I won't be able to sleep tonight; just food for thought!

Before Dawn

By mid October, sunrise is late enough that I must haul the garbage down to the curb in the dark.  This morning, that fact was especially rewarding.

To the east, a Cheshire moon smiled above bright Venus.  To the south, Orion the Hunter warned of the coming winter, trailed by his faithful hound Sirius.  To the west, the Red Planet (Mars) gleamed above the invisible mountains, now in direct opposition to the Sun.  And finally, a bowl of distant suns speckled the dark sky, shining through the clear, chilly October air.

Trash day may be a human routine but, from October through February, it can remind us of our relative insignificance.  At the very least, it may prove to be an inspiring chore.

The Spring Mountains

Another golf tournament, more interesting topography.  Anyone who watched the Shriners Hospitals for Children Open, a PGA tournament from Las Vegas, Nevada, this past weekend, could not help but notice the mountains rising in the distance.

This range, northwest of Las Vegas, is known as the Spring Mountains, among the most prominent geographic features of Southern Nevada.  Aligned northwest to southeast, this fault-block range tops out at Charleston Peak, elevation 11,918 feet.  Known for its biologic diversity, the range harbors the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.

Of particular interest to geography buffs, such as myself, the Spring Mountains, named for the numerous springs in the range, rise along the topographic margin of the Great Basin.  Streams on the west side of the range flow into the Mojave Desert of the Great Basin while those that drain its eastern flank are part of the Colorado River watershed.

Three High Pressure Domes

As I write this post, three domes of high pressure dominate the weather map across North America.  One dome is centered over the northern Great Basin, the second is over the Gulf of Mexico and the third is over Eastern Canada.

In the central region of high pressure domes, air is sinking and cloud formation is suppressed; along their outer rim, however, air is circulating in a clockwise direction.  Where they interact, cold or warm fronts arc across the landscape and centers of low pressure produce uplift; if sufficient moisture is present, rain or snow develops.

Currently, strong southwesterly winds are raking the Front Range urban corridor, just ahead of the cold front associated with the Great Basin dome; we are in the mid 70s F while Cheyenne, Wyoming, 90 miles to our north, is in the mid 50s F.  Across the Great Plains and Southeast, the Gulf of Mexico dome is in control and afternoon temperatures are in the 80s and 90s F.  Finally the cool Eastern Canada dome reaches down to the Mid Atlantic region and out across the Great Lakes.  Rain is falling across the Northern Plains and Mid Atlantic States, where these atmospheric domes abut one another.  Unfortunately, we do not expect any significant moisture from the cold front as it drops along the Front Range. 

Delta slams the Louisiana Coast

Hurricane Delta is about to make landfall in southwestern Louisiana.  Currently a category 2 storm, it is already pummeling the State with storm surge, heavy rains and gusty winds.

Crossing much of the same territory that was raked by Hurricane Laura, it will surely hamper recovery efforts in that region and may scatter the debris that is still piled along the roadways; of course, tornadoes also pose a threat, as is typical with land-falling hurricanes.  Once over land, Delta will weaken but will spread flooding precipitation across the lower Mississippi and Tennessee River Valleys before reaching the Mid-Atlantic Coast.

The first Greek numbered storm to ever make landfall in the U.S., Delta is also the 10th named storm to strike the country this year, a record for a single hurricane season.  Any doubt that global warming is playing a significant role in the current outbreak has surely been put to rest, at least in the minds of those who respect science-based evidence. 

A Death Squad

Looking out the kitchen window this evening, I saw our resident fox chewing on the carcass of what appeared to be a cottontail.  Repeatedly trying to swallow it whole, the young hunter was clearly frustrated and resumed his efforts to tear off pieces of the victim.

All the while, like vultures on the Serengeti Plains, a flock of black-billed magpies circled the fox and his prize, attempting to snare the carcass whenever the hunter stopped to rest.  Soon, the fox gave up and stretched out below a nearby tree while the magpies fought over the remnants of his kill.

Notably young and thin, I wonder if the red fox has the hunting skills to survive the upcoming winter.  He has clearly put a dent in our cottontail population (or spooked them into seclusion) but his nutritional status is suspect.  The magpies, on the other hand, gregarious, aggressive and omnivorous, will do just fine.

When Physicians become Enablers

Patients rely on their physicians to keep them well, to diagnose their medical or surgical conditions and to treat them appropriately.  In doing so, physicians must earn their trust, convince them when hospitalization is indicated and resist their desire to go home when a discharge would be unsafe or endanger others.

Having practiced Internal Medicine for forty years, primarily as a hospital-based physician, I understand that conflicts between patients and their physicians routinely occur.  In many cases, a second opinion or consultation serves to dissolve the crisis.  In some cases, a patient may need to undergo evaluation to determine if they are competent to make decisions, especially when an important therapy is declined or when a threat to leave the hospital against medical advice occurs.

Unfortunately, physicians may give in to patient demands in the interest of efficiency or due to legal concerns; no doubt, physicians have played a significant role in the ongoing crisis of narcotic addiction.  Now we see that political pressure may also sway their behavior; allowing the President, infected with Covid-19, to leave the hospital for a photo-op and to be discharged ahead of schedule to appease his personal whims are disturbing choices.  Perhaps Trump was forced to sign-out on both occasions but, if so, the public should be informed of that fact.  Otherwise, putting the health of the President, his staff and other contacts in danger suggests a willingness to enable compulsive behavior with potentially tragic consequences.

Paint Mines Interpretive Park

About 35 miles east of Colorado Springs and two miles south of Calhan, Colorado, a creek and its side streams have sculpted a badlands from the north flank of a high ridge.  Now protected within Paint Mines Interpretive Park, the badlands are a colorful mosaic of bluffs, domes and hoodoos, representing Tertiary and Quaternary deposits.  The Park's name is a reference to the fact the Native Americans used the clays for decorative purposes.

Accessed by a network of sand-gravel trails that overlook and wind among the rock formations, the park is home to an excellent variety of plants and animals that characterize the Western High Plains; among the resident wildlife are coyotes, red fox, white-tailed deer, ferruginous hawks, prairie falcons, thirteen-lined ground squirrels and short-horned lizards.  Unfortunately, perhaps due to the number of visitors, we only encountered the ground squirrels this morning.

A wind farm now stretches atop the ridge above the park but the ecology of this hidden, geologic gem appears to be undisturbed.  The stream itself is an upper tributary of Big Sandy Creek which drains part of the Arkansas River watershed, south of the Palmer Divide.  Finally, from atop the ridge, one (I imagine) enjoys a spectacular view of the Pike's Peak massif and the distant Continental Divide; unfortunately, a smoky haze from the Western wildfires obliterated that view today.    

First Winter Residents

Having returned to our Littleton, Colorado, farm on October 1, I have encountered two winter residents to date.  Here along the base of the Front Range, these residents either travel southward from Canada or descend from higher elevations in the mountains, to our west (vertical migration).

The first, appearing on October 2, was a Townsend's solitaire, which nests and summers in the forests of the mountains and upper foothills.  Fond of juniper berries, which are abundant on our farm, at least one solitaire has wintered here since we purchased the property, 30 years ago.  Our guest will hang around until mid April or so, feeding with robins and cedar waxwings (Bohemian waxwings may also turn up on occasion).

The second winter resident, just noticed this morning, was a dark-eyed junco.  Alone today, this "snowbird" will be joined by at least a couple dozen cohorts over the next few weeks, represented by three races (Oregon, slate-gray and gray-headed).  From then until early April, they will be the most abundant species on our farm, contested only by house finches and wandering flocks of Canada geese at times.

Covid Strikes Back

This morning, we learned that President Trump, the First Lady and several members of the Administration have become infected with Covid-19.  In addition, several high-profile individuals who attended the reception for the Supreme Court Nominee have also developed the infection.  A common thread?  Close contact without the use of masks, adhering to the Trump Doctrine that masks are for weak people.

One hopes that none of these individuals will develop serious complications of the infection but Trump, aged 74 and obese, is a prime candidate for such an outcome.  Declared a hoax by many of his followers, usually at Trump's urging, the virus does not choose its victims; rather, the victims put themselves at risk when they cannot or refuse to adhere to preventive measures recommended by public health officials.

Will this crisis be a reality check for the anti-science legions who hang on every Trump proclamation?  One doubts that will be the case.  But Covid-19 is an opportunist and the bombastic denials from the President and his minions have finally (and not surprisingly) come home to roost. 

First Coot of Autumn

Though they will be abundant at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area within a few weeks, the first migrant coot of the season arrived on the Missouri floodplain refuge over the last two days; I counted 70 on the pools this morning.

Often mistaken for ducks, American coot are in the rail family and prefer reedy shallows where they feed in or out of the water; their diet consists primarily of aquatic plants and invertebrates which they snare from the surface or obtain by diving.

Though officially a permanent resident of Missouri, most of these chunky birds breed across the Northern Plains and Great Lakes region and winter across the southern U.S. Their numbers at Eagle Bluffs tend to peak in October and April as migrant flocks move through the Missouri River Valley.  It was a pleasure to encounter them this morning, even though they will hardly warrant a glance when they dominate the refuge next month.

Autumn's Sudden Arrival

This afternoon, a potent cold front pushed across Missouri, igniting showers and thunderstorms.  It is the leading edge of a broad atmospheric trough that has brought autumn temperatures to most of the Western U.S. and is now expanding eastward.

Though our recent weather has been relatively mild, devoid of the heat and humidity that characterize a Midwestern summer, this change is especially abrupt, reinforcing the fact that glorious October is just a few days in the future.  Rain-cooled air will be replaced by dry, Canadian air as the front moves east of Missouri and we expect afternoon highs in the 60s F and lows in the 40s F for the next week.

Of course, the dividing line between seasons is rarely so distinct and time will tell if summer has truly given up its reign.  But longer nights and a lower sun angle will make that recovery unlikely and it seems safe to turn off the AC for now; besides, natural cooling is always preferable. 

Ospreys, Otters & Grebes

On this glorious morning at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, the avian diversity was a bit disappointing;  red-winged blackbirds were abundant, as usual, while blue-winged teal, turkey vultures and chimney swifts were also common.  In addition, there were a few highlights.

A pair of ospreys were hunting above the central channel, plunging to snare fish in their talons.  A trio of river otters also graced the channel, swimming and diving in linear formation.  Finally, a half-dozen pied-billed grebes were observed on the floodplain pools; while they are expected at the refuge by late September and will be increasingly common over the next month or so, the grebes are just the latest sign that the tide of autumn is building.

Once again, a morning visit to Eagle Bluffs did not disappoint.  Though many birds seemed to be sleeping in, the ospreys, otters and grebes rewarded my effort, not to mention the pleasant weather and beautiful scenery.  I'll be back in a few days.

Vote for the Planet

Now that voting has begun in some States, it is especially important to emphasize what effect another four years of the Trump Administration will have on the welfare of our planet.  Denying that climate change is underway and that human activity is primarily responsible, Trump withdrew from the Paris Climate Accord and shows no sign of changing course.

Every week brings another attack on the health of our environment as he slashes regulations that protect our air, water and natural ecosystems.  Trump is single-handedly turning back the clock to the era of unbridled pollution and excessive consumption; he ignores habitat destruction and the extinction of species and is primarily interested in appeasing the dictators and captains of industry whom he admires.

We have little time to alter the course of global warming and another four years of the Trump Administration (and his Republican enablers) may very well seal our fate.  It is imperative that we vote for Biden and return the Senate to Democratic control.  Vote for your Grandkids!  Vote for the Planet!

Beautiful Calendars

At least once a week, a beautiful calendar arrives at our home.  In almost every case, these are sent by nonprofit organizations, hoping for a donation to cover the cost of their gift and services.

In this digital age, one wonders how many of us actually use wall calendars; having just turned 70, I have not placed one on the wall for at least twenty years.  Some have been donated to my grandkids (before they received their I-pads) but most are simply placed in the recycle bin (after flipping through the photos to justify the postage).

We donate to our fair share of charities and non-profit groups, many of which are devoted to medical care or conservation, but I am especially dismayed when I receive wall calendars from conservation organizations, whether I am a member or not.  In my mind, they are an unnecessary use of paper and fuel, just the consumption that conservationists so vigorously oppose; perhaps the former is recycled (which requires some energy use) but I doubt the ink, staples and gas are second-hand.  Of course, I also resent the fact that those organizations use part of my donation to send out the calendars!

A Vanguard of Pelicans

On a visit to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, a friend and I encountered the first flock of American white pelicans this fall.  Having bred and summered across the Northern Plains, they are heading for the Gulf Coast and may spend a few days on the Missouri River floodplain before continuing their journey.

About 120 of the pelicans graced the refuge today and many more will follow over the next two months.  Though they look like they belong in the Sub-tropics, these are hardy birds, reluctant to leave the chilly winds of their summer haunts and often departing the balmy southern bays by February.

Indeed, their numbers at Eagle Bluffs usually peak in late winter or early spring while their autumn migration is spread out and less spectacular.  On the other hand, their presence is always a highlight at the refuge and this morning's vanguard, resting on the cool, foggy floodplain, was a welcome and inspiring sight.

Broad-wings over Phillips Lake

On this clear, cool morning in central Missouri, I visited Perry Phillips Lake Park, in southeast Columbia.  Despite the pleasant birding weather, earthmovers prowled near the south shore and a relatively large number of joggers panted along the loop trail, limiting my sightings.

Only 15 avian species were observed, most of them common permanent residents of Missouri.  But the highlight of this gorgeous autumn morning was a large flock of broad-winged hawks, circling southward on their way to Central or South America or South Florida.  Though they breed throughout the eastern half of the United States and southern Canada, these small buteos are reclusive during the warmer months, nesting and hunting for small birds, reptiles, amphibians and large insects in forested areas.  Come September, however, they gather in large flocks and may be seen in the hundreds or thousands as they travel toward their wintering grounds.

This morning's flock, though relatively small (23 by my count), was an inspiring sight and just the latest sign that the long, hot summer is retreating southward.  The broad-wings may choose to follow that season but I, for one, am glad to see it go.

Sex on the Porch

Now that I have your attention, be assured that this is a family blog.  Nevertheless, sex is an essential force in nature.

Today, after bringing my lunch out to the front porch, I noticed woody debris in the lattice that borders our entryway.  Before I could pick the stems from the lattice, I realized that they were the limbs and torso of a walking stick; in fact, there were two of these interesting insects, locked in copulation.  Of course, I left them alone and, by dinner time, they had not uncoupled; indeed, walking sticks are known to copulate for days or even weeks.

More than 3000 species of walking sticks are found across the globe.  Feeding on a variety of leaves, the female is much larger than the male and is capable of parthenogenesis (the production of female offspring without the need for mating).  Today's discovery was thus unusual, one that I had not yet encountered.  Disguised as plant material, they avoid detection by mice, birds and bats, their primary predators.  Females may lay up to a thousand seed-like eggs, which may be dropped in a secluded site or spread across her territory. 

Both Sides of Climate Change

If there was ever a week that warned of the risks associated with global warming, it may be this one.  Wildfires, triggered by prolonged drought and severe heat, rage across the Western States, driving thousands from their homes, spreading smoky air across urban areas and devastating more than three million acres in California alone.

At the same time, Hurricane Sally is expected to bring severe flooding to the Northern Gulf Coast while several other tropical storms churn their way across the Atlantic, almost using up the alphabet by the peak of the hurricane season; with two more months to go, meteorologists will soon begin using the Greek alphabet to name storms.

Though climate change is not the sole reason for these natural phenomena, it certainly appears to be playing a major role.  As the air and seas warm, climatologists expect dry landscapes to become more arid and wet areas to become more prone to flooding; of course, coastal regions are already experiencing the effects of rising seas.  It is not too late to intervene: vote for Biden/Harris! 

Outdoors Season

Looking ahead at the weather forecast for central Missouri, it appears we have finally entered the outdoors season.  While we may experience another hot, humid spell, those conditions should be brief.

Though I spent six summers working as a lifeguard and cut lawns for income during my youth, I have become increasingly intolerant of heat as I have grown older.  For me, summer weather is often unpleasant and I limit my outdoor activity to the early morning and evening hours.  From mid September to mid May, however, I am outdoors most of the time, hiking birding, reading or performing a variety of chores.  After all, it is during this period that our wild neighbors also tend to be most active and conspicuous.

While humans evolved in the Tropics and we are naturally designed to handle heat better than cold, our large brains have enabled us to remain active during the colder months.  Equipped with layered clothing and other winter gear, some of us are far more likely to head outdoors during the chilly months than we are during the oppressive heat of summer.  Unfortunately, global warming may significantly shorten the outdoors season.

More Decoys than Ducks

On this cool, foggy morning at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, the parking lots were filled with pickups and decoys bobbed in the pools; in some areas, camouflaged hunters patiently gathered near the decoys while intermittent shot-gun blasts echoed across the floodplain.  It is teal season in Missouri.

Despite all the hunting activity, very few ducks were observed (I counted 17 blue-winged teal during a two-hour visit); indeed, overall bird activity was rather limited with the exception of great egrets and swallows.  A lone bald eagle (observed by my friend) was the only raptor encountered and songbirds were relatively quiet and secluded.  In all, we saw 23 avian species.

After a long, hot summer, it was nice to enjoy the cool morning air and to experience the earliest stage of the autumn waterfowl migration.  Blue-winged teal are the first migrant ducks to arrive each year (a full month ahead of their cohorts) and the first to face a determined army of human hunters.  This morning, however, there were far more decoys than ducks.

A Nighthawk Parade

Late yesterday afternoon, a common nighthawk appeared over our Columbia yard, zig-zagging his way northward.  As I watched his flight, two more followed and, within a few minutes, 26 had passed overhead.

Preparing to leave for South America, these birds were fueling up on flying insects and will likely join many other nighthawks when their migration begins; indeed, flocks numbering in the hundreds are often observed in late summer once their journey is underway.

Common nighthawks nest throughout North America, from southern Canada to northern Mexico and the Gulf Coast.  Unfortunately, their population has declined, likely due to the widespread use of pesticides.  Among the earliest fall migrants, these long-distance travelers begin to depart by late August and do not return to the Midwest until May of the following year. 

North Atlantic Currents

Reading Migrations, a novel by Charlotte McConaghy (and a gift from my son), I was moved to review the oceanic currents of the North Atlantic.  Long known to affect regional climate, marine life populations and ship traffic, these rivers in the sea are the product of Earth's rotation.

At the Davis Strait, the Baffin Island and West Greenland currents merge to form the Labrador Current which hugs the eastern coast of Labrador as it flows to the SSE.  Nearing Newfoundland, it bifurcates to enclose that scenic island Province and then continues along the coasts of Nova Scotia and New England, fueling the marine ecosystems of that region.  In concert, the Gulf Stream develops in the Florida Strait and sweeps its warm waters northeastward, producing a relatively mild climate in Iceland, the British Isles and the western coast of Europe (as far south as the Canary Islands of Northern Africa).  Where these two major currents merge, fog, stormy weather and turbulent seas threaten trans-Atlantic shipping, not to mention the icebergs carried south by the Labrador Current.

The novel referenced above is set in the future, after global warming has severely impacted the flora and fauna of our planet.  Marine scientists currently expect climate change to markedly diminish the benefits of the Labrador Current, augmenting the decimation of fish populations in the North Atlantic, already threatened by over-fishing and pollution.

Quail Hollow Park

Quail Hollow Park, just northeast of Hartville Ohio, is 703 acres of meadows, swamps and forest, accessed  by hiking, horse and mountain bike trails.  Once a farm, the refuge was later a hunting preserve before becoming a State Park in 1975; Stark County assumed management of the Park in recent years.

In addition to the trail network, Quail Hollow Park offers fishing on Shady Lake and harbors a Nature Center that is open on weekends; historic buildings and a garden also grace the property.  On our visit late this morning, my wife and I hiked through the deciduous-pine forest, circling the course of a meandering stream and its woodland swamp; despite yesterday's heavy rain, the well engineered trails were easily traversed and our 2-mile course through fragrant, shaded terrain was a pleasant and peaceful excursion.

There was nothing special about Quail Hollow Park and both the flora and fauna were common for this region of Ohio's Appalachian Plateau.  But it was new to us and that was more than enough to warrant a visit.

Clash Zone Storms

This morning, low pressure over northern Ontario, Canada, is sweeping cool air southeastward across the Great Lakes.  In concert, clockwise winds around high pressure over the Southeastern U.S. are dragging warm, humid, Gulf of Mexico air northward through the Mississippi Valley and then eastward across northern Illinois, Indiana and Ohio.

In the clash zone between these air masses, a line of thunderstorms has developed, especially here in northeastern Ohio.  Dropping torrential rain, the storms are "training" across the same areas, triggering a flash-flood watch for this region.

While novice weather watchers often think of storms as isolated cloud banks, unleashing their cargo of rain or snow on the landscape beneath their path, they are actually products of atmospheric pressure zones, often far from the heart of the action.  This morning, the culprits for our storms sit over Hudson Bay and eastern Tennessee.

Treefrog on the Dryer

Before I came down for breakfast this morning, my wife called up to report that there was a frog on the dryer.  While we are getting older, her cognitive function has seemed to be intact (though not as excellent as our Dear Leader's) so I accepted the fact that her assessment was reliable.  Upon reaching the utility room, I did, indeed, find a small green treefrog resting comfortably on the metal surface of the dryer in our Sandy Lake cottage.

Fortunately, I was able to grab the wayward amphibian before he hopped into less-accessible recesses of the small space and carried him outdoors, his moist skin and squirming body almost disrupting my effort.  After a bit of research, I concluded that our visitor was a young eastern gray treefrog, common in this part of Ohio.  How he ended up in the utility room remains a mystery.

Hoping to enjoy the many wild neighbors that share our local environment, we must go outdoors or at least look out the windows.  On occasion, they choose to explore our habitat!

A Loner in the Crowd

On our way back from Berlin Lake, we visited Lake Milton to its NNE.  Also a reservoir on the Mahoning River, Lake Milton is far more developed along its shores and relatively congested on its open waters, making it less appealing to this naturalist.

Nevertheless, we stopped at a beach along its northwest shore, where a flock of ring-billed gulls lounged on the sand.  Joining the gulls was a large tern with a thick, blood-red bill; it was, of course, a Caspian Tern. After breeding in scattered areas across Canada, southern Alaska and the Great Basin, these terns head to southern beaches for the northern winter, from the U.S. to South America.  In my experience, migrant Caspian terns are generally seen alone or in small groups, joining larger flocks of gulls, other terns, skimmers and shorebirds.

Once again, a detour from the direct route turned up an unexpected sighting.  We may see what we plan to observe but also what we allow ourselves to experience. 

Berlin Lake

Berlin Lake, in Northeastern Ohio, is a 5500 acre reservoir on the Mahoning River, a secondary tributary of the Ohio River.  Completed in 1943, it is utilized for flood control, water supply and recreational activities; fishing is especially popular on the reservoir.

Having never visited this lake, my wife and I drove down late this morning and were pleased to find that a large portion of its shoreline remains undeveloped.  In addition, a hike-bike path, accessed from US 224 or Ohio 14, runs across the southwest portion of the reservoir, offering broad views of the open waters.  Ospreys, double-crested cormorants and ring-billed gulls were observed during our brief visit.

It is always a pleasure to visit new landscapes, especially those we have long observed on maps but never had the opportunity to explore.  Sometimes the experience turns out to be disappointing but our journey to Berlin Lake was well worth the effort.

Herrick Fen Nature Preserve

On this cloudy, warm, humid morning in Northeast Ohio, my wife and I visited the J. Arthur Herrick Fen Nature Preserve.  Owned by Kent State University and The Nature Conservancy since 1969, this restored post-glacial wetland preserve is northwest of Kent, Ohio.

Accessed by a trail and boardwalk, the refuge is a mosaic of sedge meadows, fens and forested kames (ridges of glacial debris left behind as the Wisconsin Glacier retreated northward, 12-15,000 years ago).  Bayberry Creek, a secondary tributary of the Cuyahoga River, drains the preserve which is known for its glacial-relic tamarack fen and rare plants (including a carnivorous sundew).  We were serenaded by cardinals and catbirds while red-tails and a lone Cooper's hawk patrolled the wetlands from above.

Despite the interesting geology, flora and fauna, we were the only human visitors this morning, perhaps due to the threatening skies.  Social distancing was not an issue!

An Eerie Send-off

Red fox are generally thought to be silent and cunning predators, conducting stealth attacks on field mice, rabbits or domestic chickens.  In fact, they can be quite noisy at times, a fact that was reinforced the other night.

Hoping to get a good night's sleep before driving back to Missouri, I was awakened by eerie cries, echoing from one of our Littleton farm pastures; I immediately recognized the screams as those of a red fox, indicating that our recent visitor intended to stay.  While female red fox often deliver these harrowing sounds during the mating season, that activity does not occur until late winter.  Too tired to seek the source or the purpose, I concluded that it may have been a territorial rite by our new resident; fortunately, whatever their motivation, the screams soon ended.

Hosting wild neighbors can be a mixed blessing for human homeowners.  While we enjoy observing their behavior, especially when youngsters make an appearance, we must also accept their instinctual noisiness, their scat, their musky scent markings and the damage that they may inflict on roofs, siding, vegetation, gardens and out-buildings.  I'm generally more than willing to accept those natural consequences but the alarming screams at 3 AM tested my patience!

Flashback Post XXI

Now that the political conventions are over and we move toward the November election, it is especially important for Americans to reflect on the vital role of our Government, especially as it pertains to human rights and the health of our environment, sentiments expressed in a post from October of 2012.  Vote for Biden/Harris!

See: The Value of Government

Sabine River Highway

The Sabine River rises from several tributaries within Lake Tawakoni Reservoir, east of Dallas, Texas.  Flowing ESE across the prairie country of Northeast Texas, it passes Longview and then angles southeast to Logansport, Louisiana, where it becomes the border between Texas and Louisiana.

Along much of that border, the Sabine flows through Toledo Bend Reservoir before winding through the cypress swamps of southwest Louisiana and eastern Texas.  More than 500 miles from its source, the river enters Sabine Lake and then reaches the Gulf of Mexico through the Sabine Pass channel.

Hurricane Laura, currently a category 4 storm, is forecast to make landfall near Sabine Pass and move northward through the Sabine River Valley.  Extreme storm surge is expected east of its course while high winds, torrential rain and tornadoes will threaten the entire region; indeed, hurricane-force gusts may occur as far north as Little Rock, Arkansas.  Already the largest river in Texas by flow volume, the lower Sabine will surely flood for many days to come.

Marco Fizzles, Laura Threatens

Tropical storm Marco, briefly a category 1 hurricane, continues to approach the Louisiana coast but upper level sheering winds literally blew the storm apart, sending its convective thunderstorms northeastward to the Florida Panhandle.  As its central circulation curves westward, Marco will weaken to a tropical depression, leaving only mild storm surge and coastal flooding in its wake.

Tropical storm Laura, on the other hand, continues to churn across the Caribbean, impaired only my mountainous terrain in Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic and Cuba.  Once it enters the giant bathtub of the Gulf of Mexico, where water temperatures are at or near 90 degrees F, Laura is expected to strengthen and will likely be a category 2-3 hurricane by the time it reaches the Texas-Louisiana border region.  Unlike in Marco's case, the upper atmosphere will be free of sheering winds, favoring the storm's development.

Based on its current forward motion, Laura should reach the northwestern Gulf Coast within 48 hours.  While its center will likely pass west of New Orleans, it is a large storm and its effects may stretch from Houston to Pensacola before it moves inland, bringing torrential rains to the lower Mississippi and Ohio Valleys.

See also: Tropical Storm Dynamics 

No Rest for the Raptor

Yesterday evening, after another brutally hot day in Metro Denver, a male Cooper's hawk settled in our large catalpa tree.  Seemingly enjoying the cooler air of sunset and a gentle north breeze, he did not appear to be in hunting mode.

Nevertheless, a trio of our avian residents would not tolerate his presence and began to vigorously dive at the raptor.  One might think these attackers were blue jays, crows or magpies but, in fact, they were tiny broad-tailed hummingbirds.  While Cooper's hawks feed primarily on relatively large songbirds such as robins, flickers and doves, the hummingbirds appeared to feel threatened nonetheless.

After a fifteen minute standoff, the hawk took cover in a neighbor's cottonwood and the victors buzzed away to their own nocturnal roosts.  Hawks and owls may be apex predators but their right to enjoy an open perch in the cool evening air will almost always be challenged.

Storage Season

Despite the extreme heat wave along the Colorado Front Range, the hours of daylight are contracting and wild creatures take notice.  After all, winter conditions can threaten the survival of many species and they can either head south or store nutrients for the leaner months; the latter choice may involve putting on a layer of fat or hoarding food while it is still available.

Among birds, nuthatches, woodpeckers and nutcrackers are best known for storing food and, this week, I have noticed an increase in that activity.  Both white-breasted and red-breasted nuthatches reside on our Littleton farm and their seasonal storage activity has become especially evident.  Snatching sunflower seeds from the feeding area, they head to crevices in the bark of our larger trees or in the wooden sides of our garage and barn; there they stuff in the seed for future consumption and begin another sortie.

It is entertaining to watch this instinctual behavior and reassuring to know that fall is on our doorstep.  Hopefully, the oppressive heat and smoky air will yield to an inflow of crisp, clear mountain air by that time; given our worsening drought, an early snowstorm or two would also be welcome.

A Red Fox Returns

When we bought our Littleton, Colorado, farm in 1990, a pair of red fox were denning beneath the barn and, for a decade or so, produced a litter of pups.  Emerging in spring, the pups were a joy to observe as they scampered and tumbled about the property, oblivious of our presence.  While they continued to feed on mice, voles and berries, the resident fox had already wiped out the cottontail population prior to our arrival.

Then, some years later, coyotes moved in, scaring off (and in one case killing) the fox and taking over their den.  Concerned about the risk to neighborhood pets, I managed to dislodge the coyote family, though visiting coyotes have continued to appear on occasion.  Once the coyotes and fox were extirpated, the cottontails returned and their population became problematic; fortunately, great horned owls and hawks (including northern goshawks in winter) were attracted to the abundant prey and the number of cottontails fell dramatically.

Now that the cottontails are recovering once again, I have hoped to see fox return and, on this cool, hazy morning, my patience was rewarded.  A young red fox trotted up the driveway and was soon nosing his way through one of the pastures.  The circle of life is complete and I am pleased to have this beautiful predator back on the farm (though I doubt the cottontails, voles and mice share my sentiments).