Front Range Firestorm

Fanned by hurricane-force winds and fueled by tinder-dry vegetation, raging wildfires raced across Boulder County, northwest of Denver, yesterday afternoon.  Currently believed to have been ignited by downed power lines, the fires destroyed hundreds of homes and businesses.

While wildfires are common in the foothills and on grasslands of the High Plains, such devastation has never before occurred in the suburbs of Metro Denver.  Unfortunately, a prolonged drought and above normal temperatures this fall and early winter, set the stage for this disaster.  There is no doubt that global warming is playing a major role and such tragedies will likely recur across the Western U.S. where large, sprawling cities occupy arid or semiarid terrain.

Ironically, this firestorm developed the day before a significant snowfall is expected, the first since last spring.  Recent Pacific storms have replenished the mountain snowpack but the Front Range urban corridor desperately needs precipitation.  Hopefully, we will enter the New Year with a fresh blanket of snow.

The Magpies & the Fox

On this cold, clear December morning, I was drawn to the window by the raucous cries of black-billed magpies.  A dozen or more had gathered in our large honeylocust, making repeated sorties across the pasture; a few were clearly swooping toward a target.  My suspicions were confirmed when a red fox suddenly bounded through the tall, dry grass, retreating toward the barn with the magpies in pursuit.

Currently the top predator on our farm, the fox has little to fear but is not immune to annoying battles with the magpie patrol; the demands of the magpies notwithstanding, the fox eventually wins the war, as the remains of magpies occasionally confirm.

Indeed, the large, truculent magpies are easily the most conspicuous residents of our farm.  They seem to feel invincible but the wily fox and the powerful Cooper's hawks ensure that their confidence is tempered with a healthy level of respect.     

Nature's Gift to the West

During this Holiday Week, a strong Pacific storm, centered off British Columbia, swept copious moisture across the drought-plagued landscape of the Western U.S.  The persistent onshore flow produced heavy snow (measured in feet) along the Cascades and Sierra Nevada and steady rains across the lowlands of California and the Desert Southwest.

As it pushes inland, the storm will also bring heavy snow to the mountains of the Great Basin and Rocky Mountain corridor before stretching out across the Northern Plains.  On its heels, another Pacific storm will drag in additional moisture, further enhancing mountain snowpacks throughout the West.

After years of "sub-normal" precipitation, especially in the Four Corners region, relief has arrived.  Time will tell if this snow machine will remain active through the winter and what effects global warming will have on the American West.  While we wait to find out, continued efforts to conserve water and reduce demand make sense. 

The Death of Conversation

Hopefully, most partners, lovers, close friends and family members still have long, productive, honest conversations on a regular basis.  Nevertheless, this practice, long a vital feature of human civilization, is under attack in the modern world.

Short texts and tweets have now replaced phone calls and, to ensure brevity, are sprinkled with abbreviations and emojis to limit word usage and emotional expression.  The social media companies even offer capsulized, ready-made responses for our use, just in case our imagination has completely shut down; among their most used suggestions are "Like the Image," "Congratulations," "Same to You," and other favorites.

It is no wonder that many individuals feel isolated and that human friendships have been marginalized.  When most of our interactions are digital, we lose the capacity for personal conversation.  The most unique trait of our species is disappearing and the emotional health of humans and of society as a whole will suffer as a consequence.

Time for Free Childcare

As access to affordable, quality childcare is limited by a number of economic and social factors, it is time for free childcare for all Americans, financed by the Government and by large corporations that do not already provide that service.  To be effective, the care must extend trough the entire work day for all children too young to care for themselves.

Currently, too many children are deprived of early education and socialization and their parents cannot seek gainful employment with young children at home.  Furthermore, childcare workers do not receive a high enough wage to stay in the field, further diminishing the availability of care for working parents.

There are few, if any, public/private services more worthy of our tax dollars.  The lives of all Americans will be improved by early, quality education of our youth and our economy will benefit significantly from a workforce that is not hamstrung by childcare concerns. 

Counting Birds in the Country

This morning, a friend and I participated in the annual Christmas Brd Count, conducted by the Columbia Audubon Society.  We were assigned an area that stretches across the lower watershed of Bonne Femme Creek, south of the city; forested valleys and ridgetop farmlands characterize the region.

During our 4.5 hour, 32 mile excursion, we encountered 28 species.  Red-winged blackbirds were, by far, most abundant; their massive flocks totaled more than 6000 individuals.  Other large populations included blue jays, American robins and dark-eyed juncos; among the highlights were 15 red-tailed hawks, a few red-shouldered hawks, a pileated woodpecker and a pair of field sparrows.  Noticeably absent were mourning doves.

It was a cool, beautiful morning and the pastoral landscape was especially pleasing.  The opportunity to contribute data to the Audubon Society, so valuable in assessing the health of regional bird populations, was, of course, most rewarding.  Happy Holidays and joyous birding!

Flashback Post XXVII

While watching the coverage of the tornado damage in Mayfield, Kentucky, I felt compelled to republish a post from March of 2011.

See:  Disasters & Miracles 

Feeding the Manatees

Yesterday, I read an article in the New York Times about Florida's decision to feed manatees, the regional "sea cows" that are threatened with extinction.  Their demise is primarily related to the destruction of sea grass beds in bays and rivers of the Sunshine State.

This ongoing destruction has resulted from toxic algal blooms, fueled by the inflow of nitrogenous pollutants from wastewater plants, septic tanks, farmlands and industry; the rising sea level, a direct result of global warming, is also damaging the beds.

It is easy to garner public support for efforts to rescue these gentle, aquatic mammals, familiar symbols of the State itself (and valuable agents for the tourist industry); besides, feeding them is easier than confronting the powerful industrial and agricultural concerns that are responsible for their demise.  Furthermore, feeding these mellow and innocent victims seems to be the humane thing to do.  But the effort to manipulate natural ecosystems is fraught with complications and we cannot "zoo-ify" the planet to balance the damage we continue to inflict.  In my opinion, we should concentrate on restoring, protecting and rewilding the natural environment of our planet, the only means we have to protect its countless species and to support the complex interrelationships that are vital to its welfare.

The Violent Side

The ongoing winter storm that brought heavy snow to the Western mountains and the Northern Plains has also unleashed violent thunderstorms and tornadoes across the South.  Mayfield, Kentucky, was ground zero for the violence, the site of widespread destruction and many deaths.

Like giant, counterclockwise pinwheels, these massive storms race across the U.S.  Ahead of the storm, southerly winds pull up warm, moist air from the Gulf of Mexico which, in the cold air north and west of the central zone of low pressure, produces heavy snowfall.  South and southeast of the low, the storm's cold front knifes into the warm, humid air and it is in this clash zone that the violent weather is spawned.  Furthermore, intersecting winds, coming from the west and the south, create wind shear that triggers rotation in the thunderstorms and, as a result, tornados form.  Generally tracking southwest to northeast, they leave paths of destruction that may stretch for many miles.

As residents of Mayfield sift through the remnants of their city, the storm continues to push eastward and its cold front is now raking the Southeast where more severe thunderstorms may yet develop.  Beyond the human misery that they cause, these violent storms remind us that our effort to harness the power of nature is pure folly; we can only get out of the way or retreat to our storm shelters.

A Dose of Snow

For the first time this season, measurable snow fell along the Front Range urban corridor this morning.  Here in Littleton, we received about two inches; while hardly sufficient to dent the dryness, the coat of snow has beautified our farm, covering the brown "grass" and lining the tree limbs.

More importantly, the mountains received a good dose of snow, a hopeful sign that our water supply may yet be rescued.  Since the high country snow season will last into May, there is plenty of time for Pacific storms to deepen the snowpack and, in spring, fill our mountain reservoirs.

Unfortunately, the current storm moved rapidly across the State and, tapping into Gulf of Mexico moisture, is now dumping much heavier snow across the Northern Plains and Upper Midwest.  It is not uncommon for winter snowstorms to be rather light and brief along the urban corridor;  our long-lasting, upslope storms are more likely to develop in the spring, providing most of our annual snowfall in March and April. 

No Sympathy for Anti-vaxxers

As a physician, I was trained to provide state of the art medical care for anyone, regardless of their personal beliefs, personality or philosophy.  When it comes to treatment, there is no room for discrimination.

However, I must admit that I have no sympathy for those adult COVID patients who refused vaccination, only to die, stress hospital resources or suffer from prolonged symptoms.  Indeed, I am especially unaffected by the illness and death of those who actively encouraged others to forego vaccination by spreading false information.  Over the past year, public education has been relentless regarding the effectiveness and safety of the vaccines and those who decline to take advantage of their life-saving benefits put the lives of others at risk as well.  One wonders how many innocent children and immune-compromised individuals have died due to the behavior of these zealots.  Furthermore, the unvaccinated segment of our society is responsible for the emergence of new COVID strains, some of which could prove to be resistant to our vaccines.

I am certainly fortunate to have grown up during an era when medical care was not politicized; the polio vaccine, broadly accepted, was a godsend for my generation and those that followed.  Unfortunately, the health of today's children is too often determined by the political allegiance and anti-science fervor of their parents. 

A Winter Blast without Snow

After a week of remarkable warmth along the Colorado Front Range, winter returned at 3 PM yesterday.  In concert with sudden, strong, northeast winds, the temperature dropped from 65 degrees F to 50 F within ten minutes; an hour later, it was 35 degrees and, this morning, it was 19.

While the air took on a hazy appearance as the cold front arrived (reflecting the clash of cold and warm air in addition to windblown dust), there was not enough moisture to induce precipitation.  Once again, we were denied snow even as the temperature fell do dramatically.

In fact, the local weather conditions will rebound over the next few days, with afternoon highs in the 50s.  Our next chance for snow (currently handicapped at 40%) will be December 10.  We can only hope. 

Reducing Energy Consumption

Despite our dysfunctional Federal Government, private corporations, cities and utility companies are making efforts to reduce our dependence on fossil fuels.  Nevertheless, we must all do our part to combat global warming and, for most Americans, solar panels and electric vehicles are not yet affordable. But there are some simple measures we can all take; individually, they may seem futile (if not silly) but, collectively, they will lead to a significant reduction in energy use:

1. Turn off lights that are not being used (a habit I learned from my Conservative, religious, father). Switch to low-energy bulbs as well.

2. Walk, bike or take mass transit whenever possible.

3. Reduce the size of your lawn to decrease mower use and get rid of all electric/gas trimmers, leaf blowers etc.  The exercise will be an added benefit.

4. Reduce your use of hot water for showers, dishwashing and laundry.

5. Combine errands (including child transport) to decrease your vehicle fuel consumption.

There are other measures, of course, but these five are a good start and certainly enough to prompt ridicule from climate change deniers.

Disclaimer: no major research was done to verify the effectiveness of these recommendations; results may vary and common sense may be difficult to accept. 

Great Weather, Mediocre Birding

The weather has been glorious along the Colorado Front Range this week, with temperatures well above normal.  The unseasonable warmth has been great for walking, biking and hiking but not so much for birding.

At this time of year, as autumn gives way to winter, birds are focused solely on survival; all of the activity related to breeding, nesting and raising young are in the past (and potentially in the future).  When the weather is mild, they can easily hang out in the thickets, tall grass, shrubs and cattails, finding plenty of seeds, berries and insects (or larvae or eggs) to fuel their metabolic requirements.  They have no need to search the driveway or the feeding area unless heavy snow blankets their natural habitat; in addition, mild conditions reduce their caloric needs and negate the importance of activity to stay warm.  Finally, in this region of the country, heavy mountains snows send a variety of avian species to the adjacent lowlands, a phenomenon that is currently on hold.

Here along the Front Range, mediocre birding is the least of our concerns.  Unless the current weather pattern shifts soon, the winter mountain snowpack will be significantly reduced and the water supply for the urban corridor will take a major hit.  Yes, some things are more important than bird counts.

Marketing Charity

This is the Season of Giving in America, during which citizens are encouraged to donate to their favorite charities and non-profit organizations.  After all, these groups are vital to the welfare of a large segment of our population and their work is a major factor in our efforts to deal with the inequities in human society.

In recent years, CNN has drawn attention to the achievements of various persons across the globe who have made a significant impact on the lives of the less fortunate.  Called "heroes" by the network, they receive valuable exposure for the work that they do and, as a result, likely receive far more funding than they would have without that exposure.

But, unfortunately, CNN has turned their charitable programs into a game show, running frequent ads about the contest and encouraging viewers to vote for their favorite hero; the finalists and eventual winner are celebrated at a gala, also marketed and televised by CNN.  In my opinion, this approach, while shining a spotlight on the valuable achievements of the heroes, comes across as a distasteful marketing ploy, demeaning their work in the process.  

A Marsh Wren

On this mild, sunny morning in Littleton, I headed down to South Platte Park to check on the progress of the Front Range waterfowl migration.  Though I encountered most species, the numbers remain low, especially for the end on November; no doubt, climate change is slowing (and may eventually halt) the autumn waterfowl migration.

As it turns out, the highlight of my morning was finding a marsh wren in the cattails along Eaglewatch Lake.  A summer resident across the Northern U.S. and Canada, these reclusive songbirds winter in fresh and saltwater marshes across the Southern U.S., the Desert Southwest and the Pacific Coast.  Here in Metro Denver, they are more common during the warmer months but some remain through the winter.  Consuming a wide variety of insects, spiders and larvae, marsh wrens are known to construct multiple nests in the spring, abandoning most or using them as hideouts.

As veteran birders know, we often set out on field trips with certain expectations (e.g. observing large flocks of waterfowl).  In the end, a single bird may turn out to be the highlight and, today, it was a lone marsh wren. 

A Warm Reception

I returned to our Littleton, Colorado, farm late this morning and was greeted by deep blue skies, crystal-clear air and a temperature of 65 degrees F.  Of course, the dry, clean look of the property and the distant, snow-capped peaks warned that winter is still in charge.

Indeed, such warm respites are common along the Colorado Front Range in winter, often sandwiched between snowstorms.  As I have discussed in the past, the weather in Metro Denver is all about wind direction and we are currently enjoying a southwest, downsloping wind which warms, dries and clears the air in the South Platte Valley.  Since we made it through November (generally our second snowiest month) with only light snow showers, a good upslope snowstorm would be welcomed by most locals.

Our pair of resident collared doves were cooing from a large honeylocust as I stepped from the car this morning.  Perhaps the gorgeous weather has made them think of spring (as fickle as that season often is in Colorado).

Flashback Post XXVI

On this Black Friday, a title that seems more than appropriate, I am reminded of a post that I published back in December, 2010.

See: Merry Consumption! 

Thanks on behalf of Nature

On this annual day of Thanksgiving, it is appropriate to thank those who have donated property to conservation organizations; as relentless human "development" gobbles up natural ecosystems, their gifts are especially valuable.  Among those who deserve our thanks are Herb and Joan Domke; now deceased, they donated their farm in New Bloomfield, Missouri, to the Prairie Garden Trust.

Stretching along and atop the east wall of the Hillers Creek Valley, the preserve is a mosaic of forest, prairie, wetlands and ponds, accessed by a fine network of trails.  Open to the public from April through October (though permission must be requested in advance), we were granted off-season access yesterday.

We enjoyed a two hour walk through the refuge, encountering the usual mix of winter songbirds and a flock of wild turkeys along the way.  Several overlooks offer spectacular views of the Hillers Creek gorge and we were pleased to discover that Mississippian limestone within the creek bed harbors ancient coral fossils (see photo).  Our personal thanks to the Domkes for donating the property and to the Prairie Garden Trust for protecting and managing this oasis of native natural habitat.

 

 

The Productive Mammal

Most humans take pride in being productive.  Throughout their waking hours, they stay active, attending to their career, family chores, hobbies, exercise, social media and other modern duties.  Unlike our distant ancestors, who faced more physical challenges but likely had less stressful lives, modern humans often eschew "down time;" taking time to relax and let our minds wander is relegated to the rare vacation.

But regular periods of solitude, relaxation and unforced thought are, in my opinion, healthy; better yet,, these respites augment creativity and make us more productive in the long run.  Our brains, essentially complex computers, are bombarded with data throughout the day and require adequate sleep to function properly; the addition of rest periods, when we purposefully shut-off unnatural, external input, expands that physiologic recovery .

No doubt, some will question or even criticize our need for down time but, those of us who relish it, recognize its benefits.  Constantly doing something does not equate to productivity. 

The Cost of Oil

Primarily for political reasons, President Biden decided to tap the Strategic Oil Reserve today, thereby hoping to check the recent rising price of gasoline and to combat inflation; the latter, of course, is expected as we recover from the economic impacts of the pandemic.

Most experts seem to believe that Biden's decision will have a minimal impact on the cost of gas, especially due to the increasing demand associated with travel during the Holidays.  Some of us wonder why we are worrying about the price of oil at a time when we are attempting to reduce our dependence on fossil fuels.

Oil has an economic price but it also has an environmental one.  If higher oil prices reduce its use, all the better.  Furthermore, clean energy becomes more attractive as the price of oil rises.  In the end, it is best for all of us if we reduce our use of fossil fuels; higher oil prices should incentivize that behavior.

The Vulture Cliffs

Just southeast of the University of Missouri, in Columbia, Hinkson Creek has carved a wall of steep, Mississippian limestone cliffs, now protected within Capen Park.  A trail leads through forest atop those cliffs, offering rocky overlooks along the way.  For the first time in twenty years, my wife and I visited those clifftops today.

Other than broad views of the Park, Hinkson Creek and other nearby landscapes, the trail provides a close-up interaction with dozens, if not hundreds, of turkey vultures that nest on the cliffs and roost in trees on the steep valley wall (photo by Darcy Folzenlogen).

Common summer residents across the Lower 48 and southern Canada, turkey vultures winter in the southern U.S. (including central Missouri), Central America, Caribbean Islands and South America.  They feed primarily on fresh carrion, which they locate with their exceptional sense of smell and by watching the activity of their fellow vultures.  While not attractive birds (unlike most raptors), their effortless soaring ability is admired by anyone who visits open-country habitats. 

Our Avian Magnet Tree

A modest-sized eastern redcedar stands just northwest of our house and, this year, it is loaded with berries.  As a result, local birds are swarming to its natural bounty.

Of course, American robins dominate the scene and I counted at least 200 in or near the tree this morning.  Cedar waxwings are also regular visitors, generally arriving in flocks of 12 to 24 individuals.  Other species, while not necessarily fans of juniper berries, are drawn by the activity; house finches and American goldfinches seem to be especially curious.  Then there are the blue jays, our avian constables, turning up to complain about the noisy congestion and to make sure that they are not missing out on a convenient source of food.

While the feast has already lasted for a several weeks, plenty of berries remain.  As naturalists know, planting trees can produce multiple benefits: beautifying your property, re-wilding the landscape, combating climate change and attracting a rich diversity of wildlife.  Plant trees and lose some lawn!! 

A Menacing Wind

It was a beautiful morning at Phillips Lake, in southeast Columbia.  Bright sunshine pushed the late morning temperature into the upper 40s (F); unfortunately, a strong northwest wind made my walk much less enjoyable and all but eliminated birding opportunities.

As I have discussed in the past, strong wind and heavy rain are the two weather factors that most interfere with bird activity, forcing them to take cover until conditions improve.  The temperature itself is rarely a factor and snow or light rain do not keep them in the shrubs or thickets; I suppose ice storms might be mentioned but they generally pose more of a problem for the birders than the birds.

No waterfowl were observed amidst the wind-driven waves and only a handful of songbird species were encountered, all in a sheltered ravine.  A lone turkey vulture was the only bird that clearly relished the turbulent air and, despite my hopeful reasoning, migrant snow geese were not taking advantage of the powerful tail wind.  Exercise and fresh air turned out to be the only rewards this morning.

A Break in the Shooting

Today, a friend and I visited Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area during the two-hour window when duck hunters are required to take a break and when birders are free to hunt for waterfowl and other avian species with their binoculars.  As it turned out, on this cloudy, cool, damp afternoon, there were few hunters or birders at the refuge.

We did see more than 4000 individual birds during our one hour visit but almost all of them were mallards, American coot or red-winged blackbirds.  A few great blue herons stalked the shallows and a small number of gadwall and pied-billed grebes joined the coot and mallards.  Of most interest were the raptors, represented by an immature bald eagle, three red-tailed hawks, a sharp-shinned hawk and a rough-legged hawk; the latter buteo is a common winter resident on the High Plains but not often encountered here in central Missouri.

We had hoped to see migrant snow geese and greater white-fronted geese during our visit to the Missouri River floodplain but none were observed.  It seems that their autumn journey through this region is later each year, just another sign that our climate is warming. 

Naive Assumptions

As young adults, we humans tend to be self-confident.  We have life by the tail and understand how it works.  In concert, we make many assumptions: how our career will unfold, whom we will marry, where we will live and when we will die, among many others.  Of course, we are blinded by our innocence and often come to find that those assumptions, inspired by freedom and optimism, are often not accurate. 

As we mature (a nice word for age), we develop a more nuanced view of life, molded by personal experience and the testimony of others.  We are less likely to make assumptions and we undertake change with caution.  The wisdom that comes with age guides both the careful choices that we make and the advice that we offer to the young.

Yet, we admire the spontaneity of youth and miss the freedom of those early years.  But, as the lyrics of a popular song suggest, "we wish we didn't know now what we didn't know then."  Life's lessons are not always easy to accept and discarding the assumptions of our youth is a task that is never quite complete. 

Travel & Destination

In my experience, we humans are either travel-focused or destination-focused.  The latter group are almost exclusively interested in their destination, whether it be a city, a beach, a ski resort or some other specific location.  For them, travel is an inconvenience that must be endured and they are happy to sleep through it if possible; they choose aisle seats on airlines, snooze on trains and prefer that others drive the car so they can read, surf the internet or sleep.

Travelers, on the other hand, enjoy the journey as much as the destination.  We want to experience the topography, geography and ecosystems through which we travel.  We want to know what rivers we cross, what mountains rise in the distance and what wildlife we might expect to see.  Our destination is not an isolated location but one that fits within the surrounding landscape.

In general, travelers are more likely to value the health of our natural environment and thus more inclined to commit themselves to its conservation.  When we understand the interdependence of a destination with its climate, weather, hydrology and ecosystem, we see far more than its urban delights, its scenery and its recreational opportunities.  Our planet needs more travelers.

The Mines of Spain

Arriving in Dubuque, Iowa, by early afternoon, we decided to explore The Mines of Spain State Recreation Area, just south of downtown Dubuque.  Spreading across 1380 acres, the preserve commemorates the home of the Mesquakie Tribe, the original European settlement in Iowa and the regional lead mining industry that extended from the reign of the Mesquakie to the early 1900s.  Julien Dubuque, granted the land by the Governor of Spain, lived here, married the daughter of the Mesquakie Chief and is buried beneath a memorial tower that overlooks the Mississippi Valley.

The present Recreation Area offers 10 trail loops through forest, fields and wetlands.  One of these, an interpretive trail, leads through an abandoned channel of the Mississippi River (photo) where the Silurian cliffs were the site of much of the galena (iron ore) mining.

We did not have time to explore the rest of the preserve but did stop by the Julien Dubuque Memorial before leaving.  With all due respect to this adventurous man, one cannot escape the fact that his settlement represented the beginning of the decimation of Iowa's natural ecosystems, a process that has occurred throughout the country and across the globe.   

Following the Wisconsin River

Yesterday, heading back to Missouri from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, we elected to drive southward through central Wisconsin.  Picking up US 45 in Ontonagon, we crossed the Eastern Continental Divide near the Wisconsin border and entered the watershed of the Wisconsin River.  Several miles south of the border, we crossed the river for the first time and followed it southward through the Glaciated Plain of the Badger State.

After crossing the Eagle and Pelican Rivers, upper tributaries of the Wisconsin, we angled westward to join the main channel.  Heading southward on US 51, we paralleled  the River and crossed it several times before reaching Portage, Wisconsin.  There the Wisconsin River turns westward and we switched to Route 78 to follow its course.  Both the river and the highway soon entered the scenic "Driftless Area" of the State, characterized by forested hills and pastoral valleys.  At Merrimac, we enjoyed a magnificent view of Lake Wisconsin (a reservoir on the river since 1914) and soon reached the attractive towns of Prairie du Sac and Sauk City on the north bank of the Wisconsin.  There we crossed the river for the final time, heading toward Dubuque, Iowa, where we would spend the night.

The Wisconsin itself continues to flow westward, joining the Mississippi just south of Prairie du Chien.  Approximately 420 miles in length, it is both the longest and the largest river in the State and passes through many reservoirs along its course.  It certainly provided a beautiful natural corridor for our journey.

Bad Luck, Nothing More

Those who follow this Blog have surely guessed by now that my wife and I failed to see the Aurora borealis.  After all, I would have crowed about the experience and posted colorful photos of the spectacle. But why were we unsuccessful?

Some might mention fate.  Others might declare that it was God's will.  Still others, especially regular patrons of the Blog, might wonder if it was divine retribution for my frequent rants about mysticism.  But it was just bad luck, nothing more.  We were at the right place at the wrong time.

We are certainly disappointed but life is too short to dwell on missed opportunities.  Perhaps we will try again if we have the chance.  Then again, I might die before seeing the Northern Lights but I can live with that.

Ruffed Grouse

During our week of hiking on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, we found that the northern forests are relatively quiet in November.  Of course, most of the summer songbirds have departed for warmer climes, taking their musical voices with them.

Blue jays were the most vocal permanent residents, their raucous calls echoing through the forest, and we encountered the occasional flock of chickadees and nuthatches.  Woodpeckers were seemingly on vacation and red squirrels were the only vocal mammals, especially if we got too close to their winter cache.  On the other hand, ruffed grouse were rather common, usually flushing from the forest undergrowth as we approached.

Permanent residents across Alaska, Canada, the northern U.S. and southward through the mountain corridors, ruffed grouse are medium-sized game birds, perhaps best known for the male's distinctive "drumming" in early spring.  Females often have young in tow during the summer months but these grouse tend to be solitary for most of the year.  Usually found in mixed forests, they feed on a wide variety of seeds, nuts, insects and buds.  It was certainly a pleasure to observe them this week, however brief our encounters. 

Back to the Porcupines

Ten years after our first visit, we returned to the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park today.  Rising up from the southern coast of Lake Superior, about 15 miles west of Ontonagon, these weathered mountains offer scenic views, excellent day hikes and the opportunity for wilderness backpacking.  Wolves, moose and black bear are among the wild residents of this 60,000 acre Park.

This morning, we chose the Escarpment Trail for our first hike; the most popular trail in the Park, it yields spectacular views of the Big Carp River Valley, including the Lake of the Clouds (see photo).  Undulating along the north rim of the valley, the route leads to several rocky overlooks.

Our second hike was a gradual climb on the Union Spring Trail, which follows and crosses the Union River up through its valley, on the east edge of the Park.  We set our sights on a beaver-created wetland (photo), about 1.5 miles from the trailhead.  Other hikes are planned for tomorrow.

Down the Peninsula

After three nights of failing to observe the Aurora borealis from Brockway Mountain, we zigzagged down the Keweenaw Peninsula today, initially crossing to the Big Traverse area of the east coast.  There we enjoyed more scenic views of Lake Superior before heading inland; passing Rice Lake, we encountered a large flock of buffleheads on the calm waters, soon to migrate farther south.

Following a pit stop in Houghton, we drove on to Agate Beach (photo) on the southwest coast of the Peninsula.  Amidst the colorful pebbles along the shore, my wife searched for agates with questionable success.  Meanwhile, I scoured the lake for migrant waterfowl and did observe a large flock of mergansers (common or red-breasted) far offshore.  As has occurred all across the Keweenaw Peninsula, a couple of bald eagles soared above the beach.

Finally, before heading to our cabin east of the Porcupine Mountains, we stopped at a cafe in Ontonagon and took an after dinner walk out to their public beach.  It was there that I encountered a flock of snow buntings, a new species for me.  We still have three nights to catch the Northern Lights but our journey has already been more than rewarding!

North Keweenaw Hikes

Those who visit the northern portion of the Keweenaw Peninsula are encouraged to consider hikes at the following nature sanctuaries.  Both are owned and managed by the Michigan Nature Association.

Grinnell Nature Sanctuary - This preserve stretches along the northeast coast of the Keweenaw Peninsula, a few miles north of Lac La Belle.  A steady climb takes the hiker to spectacular overlooks atop the rocky bluffs, offering broad views of Lake Superior, its coastline and adjacent landscapes.  We recommend that visitors hike the loop trail clockwise and return from the overlooks via the same route; the northern section of the loop is very steep and treacherous.

Estivant Pines Nature Sanctuary - This 510-acre refuge, just SSE of Copper Harbor, offers a double-loop hike through northern mixed forest, including stands of old growth white pine (some of the trees are 500 years old).

Consolation Prizes

Last evening, we left for Brockway Mountain, west of Copper Harbor, about 9 PM, driving slowly to avoid hitting wildlife along the forest-lined road.  In fact, halfway up the mountain, a gray fox crossed our path, the first I had seen in several years.  Atop the ridge, the scene resembled a failing drive-in theater with several cars parked in the unlit lot, awaiting the show.  We slipped into an open space, facing north and overlooking the invisible lake.

While we waited for the Northern Lights to develop, we were more than entertained by a zillion stars in the clear night sky, bisected by the stellar haze of the Milky Way.  Jupiter gleamed from the southwest and numerous meteors streaked across the sky, some quite spectacular and long-lasting.  Then there were the passenger jets, blinking their way across the night sky, no doubt traveling to or from exotic locations.

Our fellow attendees began to give up on the vigil by 11 PM and we were left alone atop Brockway Mountain.  Our final observation was of a large ore ship, its lights shining from the dark expanse of Lake Superior, surely heading for "some mill in Wisconsin."  We descended to Eagle Harbor at midnight, humbled but still optimistic.

Black Creek Nature Sanctuary

Owned by the Michigan Nature Association, the Black Creek Nature Sanctuary lies along the west coast of the Keweenaw Peninsula, northwest of Houghton.  The 242-acre refuge spreads across the watersheds of Black and Hill Creek and is accessed by a trail network that takes the visitor from a parking lot on Cedar Bay Road to a pristine, rocky beach along Lake Superior.

Along the way, the 3 mile route (6 miles roundtrip) passes meadows, beaver ponds and alder swamps before entering a rich forest of pine, birch, sugar maple, cedar and balsam fir.  Nearing the lakeshore, the trail runs along a lagoon where the two creeks merge before draining into the surf.  The Michigan Nature Association reports that moose, wolves and black bears have been sighted in the preserve though, on this sunny, mild day, chatty red squirrels were the only mammals we encountered.

Since the clear skies are forecast to persist through the night, we plan to watch for the Aurora borealis from the summit of Brockway Mountain (1328 feet), just WSW of Copper Harbor.  More on that adventure tomorrow. 

North Country Drive

Heading north from Minneapolis, the foliage gradually changes from typical Midwestern deciduous forest to North Country woodlands of birch, larch and conifers.  After a pit stop in Duluth, we drove eastward on Route 2, crossing northern Wisconsin before entering the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

Snow appeared near the State border and coated the landscape for most of our journey to Houghton, halfway up the Keweenaw Peninsula.  Intermittent snow showers enhanced the North Country feel and the temperature held in the lower 30s (F).

Though we watched for moose along the way, none were spotted in the wooded marshlands, stream valleys or pond-dappled meadows.  As is often the case, American crows dominated the bird population but we did see a dozen bald eagles and several flocks of swans (likely trumpeters).  We'll check out Houghton this evening and wait for the cloud cover to dissipate before beginning our Aurora borealis vigils.

From Lincoln to Minneapolis

We left Lincoln, Nebraska, this morning in a pea-soup fog that shrouded our drive all the way to the Iowa border.  Though we crossed the Platte and Missouri Rivers, we could not see those streams due to the dense mist.

Entering Iowa, we were greeted with clearing skies and a barred owl that drifted across the highway in the early morning light.  Undulating across the hills of western Iowa, we were pleased to see that regional farmers have terraced their hillside fields, reducing soil erosion, minimizing water use and providing natural cover for wildlife.  We also encountered a large wind farm, just the first of many that we passed across the State; indeed, Iowa is one of the leading States in the per-capita use of wind-generated electricity.

Once we reached Des Moines, we headed north on Interstate 35, crossing the flat terrain of the Glaciated Plain; only the Iowa River carves a significant dent in the landscape.  Farther north, we detoured eastward to Frontenac State Park (in southeast Minnesota) which sprawls across a ridge on the west wall of the Mississippi River Valley.  There we enjoyed spectacular views of Lake Pepin (formed by damming the River; see photo) and of river bluffs across the valley; a special treat was provided by 100 or more American white pelicans, lounging on a sand spit that juts into the lake.  After a night in Minneapolis, we'll head for Houghton, Michigan, tomorrow.

First Snowy Landscape

Though we have observed the snowy peaks of the Front Range from Denver, we were not enveloped in a snowy landscape until this morning, the first such experience this season.  Traveling northeast from Denver on Interstate 76, we reached the snow line at Sterling, Colorado.  From that location until we reached Grand Isle, Nebraska, a snowy landscape flanked the highway.

Just south of the snow line, flocks of longspurs swooped across the roadway, disappearing into the scrub grasslands of Northeast Colorado; a squadron of sharp-tailed grouse also streaked across the highway.  Once we entered the snowy terrain, bird sightings were limited, especially due to the low, gray overcast and persistent light mist;  Canada geese and American crows were the primary representatives.

Unfortunately, the dense cloud cover also eliminated the opportunity to observe migrating sandhill cranes, one of my specific goals for today's leg of the journey; though I scoured the fields for resting flocks, none we're observed.  We'll spend the night in Lincoln and head to Minneapolis tomorrow.

Journey to the Northern Lights

While the term "bucket list" has become a cliche in American culture, most of us have certain goals that we hope to achieve before we are too old, frail or dead to experience.  For my wife and I, one of those goals is to witness the Aurora Borealis, a spectacular natural phenomenon that we have managed to miss despite having visited Newfoundland, Iceland, Scotland, southern Alaska, Vancouver Island and the northern Great Lakes region.

Tomorrow we will leave Colorado and head northeast across the Great Plains.  Our destination will be the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, specifically locations along and near the Keweenaw Peninsula.  While our primary goal is to see the Northern Lights, we plan to explore the varied ecosystems of that region and anticipate that other sightings will also prove to be highlights of the trip.

Of course, as always, getting to and from the destination may also provide natural spectacles that characterize the North American autumn.  Whether we see the Aurora Borealis or not, it will certainly be an enjoyable and rewarding journey.  More on our travels in the coming days.

Addendum:  As it turns out, a major solar flare occurred two days ago and  the peak Auroral borealis show was forecast to develop last night.  Perhaps our journey to the Northern Lights is a bit late but we remain optimistic.

Cancel Culture and Truth

Over the past few years, there has been a great deal of controversy regarding efforts to block free speech, often by colleges and student groups that should be bastions of intellectual freedom.  While hate speech and purposeful misinformation should be abolished, opinion must be protected in the interest of truth.

Indeed, doubt and dissent have been the cornerstones of science, directing human society away from the dangers of mysticism to the enlightenment that the scientific method has wrought.  To suppress thought or opinion that might be offensive to some is to threaten the vital role of intellectual freedom.

Finally, history is factual and most of it unfolded at a time when mysticism suppressed the early awakening of scientific truth.  To deny its relevance, or to take its events out of context, is to fail to learn from our past mistakes and misguided assumptions.  We should embrace our history, not bury it to shelter innocents from the realities of our social and intellectual evolution.

A Wave of Wigeon

The autumn waterfowl migration is gradually increasing along the Colorado Front Range and, at South Platte Park this morning, American wigeon led the way.  I counted about 90 of these distinctive, surface-feeding ducks, more than double the number of any other species.

Among their cohorts were mallards, gadwall, northern shovelers, ring-necked ducks, buffleheads, green-winged teal, hooded mergansers, American coot, pied-billed grebes and a lone female pintail.  Due to a strong south wind that will push our afternoon high to 70 degrees F, most of the terrestrial birds remained hidden in the shrubs and thickets.

American wigeon breed across Alaska, Canada and the northern U.S. and winter along the Pacific Coast and across the Southern U.S. and Mexico.  They favor shallow rivers, ponds, lakes and bays were they feed primarily on aquatic plants; they may also consume insects when foraging in fields.

Flashback Post XXV

Four years ago today, I published a post that received a good deal of attention.  No doubt, the reason for its popularity was that it spoke to a universal human experience.

See: The Power of Love Denied 

A Chilly River Walk

It was a cloudy, almost cold morning in the South Platte Valley.  The gray overcast muted the fall colors and the river was very low but the chilly conditions significantly reduced human traffic on the hike-bike path.

Mallards dominated the waterfowl but the autumn migration is beginning to accelerate; gadwalls, American wigeon, buffleheads, green-winged teal and a pair of hooded mergansers were also observed.  Other sightings included a great blue heron, a Harlan's red-tailed hawk (the first of the season), a sharp-shinned hawk, kestrels, killdeer, a Say's Phoebe and plenty of noisy magpies, flickers and blue jays.

We are expected to warm up over the weekend but the trend is clear along the Colorado Front Range: longer nights, chilly mornings, sunny but mild afternoons and, before long, the white gold of the West (snow). 

La Nina douses the Western Fires

A La Nina weather pattern has developed in the Eastern Pacific Ocean.  Strong trade winds across the equatorial region push warm surface waters to the west; this leads to upwelling of colder water off the west coast of the Americas.

In a typical La Nina year, precipitation increases in the Pacific Northwest (including the northern half of California) and mountain snowpacks are generally deeper across the West (excluding the Desert Southwest).  Evidence of this pattern is currently unfolding as soaking rains fall from San Francisco to Seattle and heavy snows coat the Cascades, Sierra Nevada and Great Basin Ranges.

The La Nina precipitation will likely bring an end to the Western Fire Season but will offer only modest relief from the prolonged drought that grips most of the American West.  Our warming climate will surely exacerbate the drought and might even prevent the formation of future La Ninas.

The Hunter's Moon

The Hunter's Moon will shine from the night sky for the next several days.  The first full moon following the autumn equinox, the Hunter's Moon usually occurs in October and is named for the fact that the harvest season has ended and the hunting season, once vital for our survival, has begun.

Of course, humans are not the only hunters to stalk nature's ecosystems during the colder months of the year.  But even natural predators, from shrews to wolves, gain an upper hand during the harsh conditions of winter, when freezing temperatures, icy landscapes, heavy snow and a lack of natural cover stress their prey.

For those of us who do not hunt, the Hunter's Moon is thus a reminder that the culling season is underway and many of our wild neighbors will not see the coming spring.  Knowing that life is fickle, we must acknowledge that the trials of winter will take some of us as well.

Glorious Autumn Weather

We returned to our Littleton, Colorado, farm yesterday under deep blue skies.  The Front Range peaks were covered with snow but it was a pleasant 68 degrees F in Metro Denver.

The weather here has been more conducive to fall splendor than in the Midwest and colorful trees adorn the urban corridor.  At the farm, we were greeted by the "clean" landscape that dry air and cold nights produce and it was nice to settle in without the urge to get out the trimmers.

As if to signal the cool weather ahead, a pair of Townsend's solitaires, down from the mountains, chased each other about the property, dueling for "ownership" of our juniper berries.  No doubt, dark-eyed juncos and pine siskins will soon follow, joined by Steller's jays, mountain chickadees and other high country residents as winter conditions intensify.

The Loss of Civility

Four years of the Trump Administration (and its aftermath) have poisoned America.  A sizable percentage of our citizens either learned to engage in crude behavior or were simply given permission to demonstrate their innate lack of civility.

We now witness violence on airlines, confrontations with school board members, threats to election officials and, perhaps most disturbing of all, the harassment of children and their parents over the use of masks.  It is one thing to engage in respectful political discourse but quite another to make your point with brutish behavior.

Of course, the Big Lie is responsible for much of the confrontation but Trump's crude behavior while in office unearthed similar tendencies in those who rushed to his support and defense.  Unless we elect individuals who are committed to fairness, cooperation, respect and decency, this current of incivility will destroy our Democracy. 

Northern Storm, Southern Flooding

A potent storm system,, currently centered over southwestern South Dakota, dropped snow across the Western mountains and is now bringing heavy rain along a broad swath of the South-Central States.  Its leading cold front sweeps from the Southern Plains to the Upper Midwest, focusing the clash of cold, dry and warm, humid air masses that ignite the thunderstorms.

Adding to the risk of flooding, especially in Texas and southern Oklahoma, is a plume of tropical moisture, injected by Hurricane Pamela that has made landfall near Mazatlan, Mexico.  Combined with Gulf of Mexico moisture that is streaming northward ahead of the cold front, this atmospheric river may bring torrential rain to the Southern Plains.

According to the current forecast, the flood risk will begin this evening and continue through the night.  While the mountain snows were more than welcome, especially in the midst of a prolonged Western drought, the heavy rains will fall across a region already saturated by summer hurricanes and early autumn thunderstorms. 

An Overnight Crop

Following a warm, rainy night in central Missouri, clusters of Jack-o-Lantern mushrooms adorn our Columbia yard, rising from the decaying roots of past shade trees.  Named for their orange color and for the fact that they typically appear in autumn, these attractive fungi are poisonous.  In fact, their toxin is currently under investigation as a possible chemotherapeutic agent for various cancers.

In addition, Jack-o-Lantern mushrooms are among the fungi that are bioluminescent, emitting a faint, greenish glow that is visible at night.  As with other fungi, the colorful mushrooms are the fruiting bodies of a much larger organism, composed of a vast network of mycelia that retrieve nutrients from dead organic matter.  Of course, the mushrooms are transient reproductive structures and some mycologists believe that the bioluminescence may attract creatures that facilitate spore dispersal.

Not a mushroom expert, I prefer to enjoy wild species with my eyes and stick to store-bought mushrooms for my meals.  No doubt, I am missing out on the flavor of freshly-picked specimens but, for some of us, avoiding acute gastroenteritis is a higher priority.

A Morning for Raptors

Returning to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, a friend and I found that the autumn waterfowl migration is still on hold.  Canada geese and blue-winged teal, both in modest numbers, were the only representatives.

On the other hand, raptor viewing was fairly good; three bald eagles, an osprey, a northern harrier, an American kestrel and a peregrine falcon were observed on the floodplain though the more common red-tailed hawks did not make an appearance.  Once again, turkey vultures and red-winged blackbirds dominated the scene and shorebirds were limited to killdeer and a distant flock of unidentified sandpipers.

Peregrine falcons often migrate southward with the waterfowl and shorebird flocks and, we can hope, this morning's visitor might be a sign that the autumn migration may soon accelerate.  For now, we'll enjoy watching the aerial hunters.

Political Extremism

As a social liberal, fiscal conservative and Independent voter, I deplore the political extremism (in both Parties) that is sabotaging the function of Congress and threatening our Democracy.  The standoff will likely continue until one party moves toward the center and demonstrates a willingness to compromise in the interest of the American people.

I personally believe that moderates of both political parties are willing to address issues that are, in my opinion, especially important: climate change, conservation, affordable health care, quality education and human rights, among others.  Our ability to address these issues will depend on the cooperation of Republicans and Democrats, a feat unlikely to be achieved by the extremists.

While the Trump-supporting Republicans are especially dangerous, I blame both parties for the political inaction.  The effective management of the multiple, serious problems faced by our country (and our planet) will, in the end, have to come from the center. 

Our Groundhog Saga

We are more than glad to share our Colorado and Missouri properties with a wide range of wildlife.  But when it comes to groundhogs in Missouri, we are not such gracious hosts.

These large, aggressive herbivores insist on denning beneath our deck, threatening its stability.  As a result, we have trapped numerous groundhogs over the years, transporting them to wild lands south of town.  One year, however, our efforts did not succeed and the unwelcome resident died beneath the deck, forcing me to remove several planks to retrieve its maggot-ridden carcass.

We are thus a bit anxious when groundhogs manage to enter the yard despite our fencing.  They are welcome to nibble on our plants but, if we see them near the deck, the trap is set and they are enticed in with a piece of cantaloupe (which seems to be their favorite fruit).  Tiring of this routine, we have decided to concentrate on reinforcing the borders of the deck to prevent their denning.  In effect, we have all but surrendered.

Ground Surveys

It is that time of year when, as a birder, I begin scouring the ground rather than the trees.  Most of the migrant songbirds have already moved through Missouri and I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of our common winter residents, most of which feed on or near the ground.

Of course, I am referring to dark-eyed juncos and winter sparrows (white-throated, white-crowned, swamp and fox sparrows, among others).  Having summered and bred in Canada or in the mountain corridors of the U.S., they generally arrive by mid October, content to spend the winter across the central latitudes of North America.

Their arrival may not match the grandeur of waterfowl flocks or the occasional influx of irruptive species but their seasonal presence is always welcome and inspirational.  We appreciate their company during the cold, gray months of winter, knowing that they, unlike most of us, are free to move on to warmer climes.

See also:  Winter Guests 

Birding & Moose Hunting

I do not often go birding at mid day but, on this cool, cloudy afternoon in central Missouri, it seemed like a good idea.  After all, one of the best birding destinations in the Midwest is close by.

My visit to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, on the Missouri River floodplain, was a pleasant one; unfortunately, the birding was not so great.  There were lots of turkey vultures and red-winged blackbirds, one flock of Canada geese (wow!), a lone bald eagle, a dozen or so great blue herons and a handful of pied-billed grebes.  That was about all I saw from my Beetle.

During my visit, a relative came to mind.  He enjoys moose hunting and travels to beautiful, wild areas in pursuit of his quarry; though he relishes the great outdoors, he has not, to my knowledge, ever encountered a moose!  Birding can be like that; it is best to enjoy the hunt and the landscape, knowing that your expectations may not be met.

A Spectacle at Perry Phillips Lake

Visiting Perry Phillips Lake this morning, we arrived just after sunrise.  That early arrival led to an unexpected spectacle.

All along the north shore of the lake, thousands of spider webs, coated with dew and backlit by the rising sun, glistened like expensive jewelry.  More often experienced as annoying traps designed by their scary architects, the webs shimmered in the morning light; they would soon disappear amidst the vegetation as the sun climbed and the lighting changed.  Photo by Darcy Folzenlogen.

Another highlight of our visit was a lone osprey, the first I have observed in Columbia this season.  Flapping and soaring above the lake, he suddenly plunged toward the surface, snared a fish in his talons and flew off to enjoy his breakfast in a nearby tree.

A Blue Jay Explosion

Since returning to central Missouri, two weeks ago, blue jays have been relatively abundant at every park and nature preserve that I have visited; just yesterday, I observed 45 at Perry Phillips Park, in south Columbia.  I might also add that blue jays seem to be more common in our neighborhoods in both Colorado and Missouri this year.

Perhaps the increased population merely reflects a boom cycle for these birds but I suspect other factors may also be responsible.  Blue jays are omnivorous, aggressive birds that have always done well in suburbia; outcompeting other species for natural food and human handouts, they also sabotage their competition by feeding on eggs and nestlings.  As our endless sprawl continues (urban, suburban and agricultural), we enhance the opportunities for blue jays and thereby augment their population growth.

And then, of course, climate change, habitat destruction and pollution are challenging many avian species, stressing the most selective (regarding food and habitat) above all others.  Blue jays, less dependent on mature forests, natural grasslands and pristine wetlands, are relatively unaffected.  It is not necessarily "the survival of the fittest" but more like "the dominance of the adaptable." 

Seasonal Rebirth

We all know that spring is the "Season of Rebirth" as many plants and some animals rise from the dead (or at least from hibernation).  But, for some of us, autumn feels like a rebirth or, at the very least, a significant recovery.

After months of oppressive summer heat, the invigorating weather of fall is both welcome and beneficial ( physically and mentally).  Cooler, drier air, longer nights and colorful foliage are all inviting and, for birders, the autumn migration is underway.  Pesky insects have lost their vigor and, as a consequence, hiking is more enjoyable.

No doubt, many would disagree with my emotional assessment but I'll take October over June any day.  Even in Colorado, where snow may arrive as early as September, autumn is the season of my annual rebirth (and has been for 71 years).

A Philadelphia Vireo

Birders often remember their excursions based on a certain species; one that was new to them, one that they seldom observe, one that was rare or "out of place" or one that was especially abundant or conspicuous on that day.  This morning, at Forum Nature Area in Columbia, my "bird of the day" was a Philadelphia vireo.  

These warbler-like vireos are uncommon migrants through Missouri.  After breeding in mixed woodlands across Southern Canada, from the Rockies eastward, Philadelphia vireos head for the Tropics to spend the northern winter.  In all seasons, they feed primarily on insects, usually gleaning them from the leaves of trees and shrubs.

At most, I seem to encounter one of these migrants each year, usually in the fall.  This morning's visitor, hunting in a lakeside willow with a mixed flock of chickadees and titmice, was, I presume, my annual sighting.  I wish him safe travels!  

Knob Noster State Park

Knob Noster State Park protects a large tract of forest in west-central Missouri.  Dissected by a network of small streams, the Park also harbors several scenic lakes.

A fine trail system provides access to the refuge (though some stream crossings need work) and, on this cool autumn morning, we enjoyed all the expected sights and sounds of a Midwest Forest.  White-tailed deer, squirrels, turtles (aquatic and terrestrial) and a variety of woodpeckers dominated the wildlife population.

In my youth, our local forest offered an exciting escape from the sterile atmosphere of our suburban neighborhood.  Now, after a lifetime of forest exploration, the woods still provide both the wildness and the tranquility that I sought in my early years.  In addition, the forests offer hope; not only are they carbon sinks (so vital at this point in Earth's history) but they are refuges from the relentless "development" and cultivation that threaten the natural diversity of our planet.  We desperately need more forest. 

Black Saddlebag Skimmers

Reading outside the other day, I caught sight of two dragonflies, zigzagging above our front yard.  They appeared to have heavy, dark bodies but, in fact, that illusion was due to black blotches on their proximal, hind wings.  Their official name, black saddlebag skimmers, is a creative interpretation of that appearance.

Rather common throughout most of North America, these skimmers, like other dragonflies, lay their eggs in shallow ponds or wetlands.  Once hatched, the aquatic juveniles feast on a wide variety of invertebrates, especially on the larvae of mosquitos.  Southern populations produce two generations each year while northern residents manage only one.

Like many butterflies, black saddlebag skimmers migrate southward as the autumn chlll sets in.  Perhaps our visitors were gearing up for the journey ahead. 

Hart Creek Conservation Area

Hart Creek is a 657 acre Conservation Area north of Hartsburg, Missouri.  The majority of the preserve stretches across the Missouri River hills between the Katy Trail and the Hart Creek Valley.  A two-mile hike takes visitors from a parking lot along Hart Creek Road (just northeast of Hartsburg) to an overlook deck that offers a sweeping view of the Missouri River floodplain.

After crossing the creek on a wooden bridge, the grassy trail leads out to Hart Creek Lake before entering the forest for a long, steady climb to a trail junction.  There, a side trail leads westward to the overlook.

This morning, the forest was alive with the hammering and calls of woodpeckers (mostly red-bellied but also red-headed, downy and northern flickers) and the raucous cries of blue jays; white-breasted nuthatches, American goldfinches and turkey vultures were also fairly common and we observed a total of 15 species (a bit disappointing) during our visit.  Indeed, crunching across an abundant crop of acorns along the trail, I certainly expected to encounter wild turkeys but none made an appearance.  Sometimes it's just best to enjoy the exercise, the landscape and the views.

House Sparrows and Humans

Over the past six years or so, we have watched as Perry Phillips Lake, in southeast Columbia, has morphed from a farm lake with surrounding natural habitat to a suburban lake, bordered by a mix of "development."  In concert, house sparrows have become increasingly common along the loop trail.

Immigrants from the congested cities of Europe, house sparrows have thrived in the sprawling cities, suburbs and farms of America, feasting on discarded food, waste grain and other human handouts.  Visit a wilderness area and you will not likely encounter these gregarious birds but, the closer you get to human settlements, the more abundant they become.

Such is the case at Perry Phillips Lake.  When we first began visiting the Park, house sparrows were rarely encountered.  Now that suburban homes, apartment complexes and business parks have sprouted around the lake, house sparrows have also moved in (I counted at least 40 yesterday).  To paraphrase the lyrics of Joni Mitchell, they like parking lots and we are paving over paradise!

Canary Islands Volcanism

 The Canary Islands are a chain of seven volcanic islands that stretch ENE to WSW off the northwest coast of Africa.  Like the Hawaiian Islands, they have formed over an oceanic hotspot.

As the Atlantic Ocean opened and the Tethys Sea closed, the African Plate has moved to the ENE, passing over the hotspot (an upward plume of the Earth's mantle).  The oldest of the Canary Islands are thus at the northeast end of the chain and are now devoid of active volcanism (i.e. they are in the erosional phase of their natural history).  The middle islands of the archipelago now lie northeast of the hotspot and are unlikely to experience active volcanism.  The southwestern islands, including La Palma, sit above the hotspot and, as we have seen this week, are prone to volcanic eruptions.

The current eruption and basalt flows on La Palma could last for months, if not longer.  After all, the eruption of Kilauea, on the Big Island of Hawaii, has continued since 1983.

A Boreal Migrant

A gray-cheeked thrush turned up in our magnolia tree this morning, perhaps after an overnight flight from Northern Canada.  Breeding primarily in open boreal forests of Siberia, Alaska and Canada, these mid-sized thrushes migrate primarily across the eastern half of the U.S., heading for their wintering grounds in the Tropics of South America.

Based on my imperfect recollection, this was the first gray-cheeked thrush that I encountered on our Columbia property since we purchased the home, 24 years ago; it was thus a delight to observe our visitor.  Like other members of its family, this bird consumes a mixed diet of insects and berries; unlike most of the others, it tends to remain in woodlands during migration and is seldom seen in open areas.

One of the most appealing aspects of birding is the opportunity to observe residents of distant ecosystems as they migrate through our home territory.  Better yet, it reinforces the interdependence of life across our planet, encouraging us to support the protection of natural habitat in all regions of the globe.

21st Century Darwinism

It is painful to watch.  Hundreds of thousands of Americans dying needlessly from a preventable illness.  The culprits?  Misinformation, lack of eduction and political correctness appear to lead the list.

Despite the technological advances that led to the safe and effective vaccines, many Americans value their personal freedom and party affiliation more than their own health and the health of their fellow citizens.  This misguided philosophy leads to a tragic and seemingly endless cycle of severe illness and death.

While innocents (children, the elderly and the immunocompromised) are also victims of this social dysfunction, one must accept the fact that we are witnessing 21st Century Darwinism.  Those unwilling to accept scientific data and to take advantage of the vaccines are being culled by natural forces.  Nature is neither sympathetic nor forgiving.

Devil's Backbone

A few miles east of Columbia Regional Airport, Cedar Creek makes a hairpin turn on its way to join the Missouri River.  Within that narrow curve, a ridge of Mississippian limestone, known as the Devil's Backbone, offers spectacular views of the Creek Valley.

Having never visited the site ourselves, we headed east on Englewood Road from the northeast corner of the Airport.  After passing through the town of Englewood, we continued another mile or so to Backbone Road which leads southward to the ridge.

Once there, we enjoyed broad views of Cedar Creek Valley and watched as a flock of turkey vultures, joined by a lone bald eagle, soared along the cliffs.  As spectacular as the views were today they are no doubt more expansive during the winter months when the deciduous leaves have fallen.  We will certainly return to find out! 

Saved by Soras

When a friend and I arrived at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area early this morning, dense fog shrouded most of the Missouri River floodplain.  As the morning progressed, the fog burned off and we enjoyed a pleasant tour of the refuge; unfortunately, the birding did not match the scenery.

While teal hunters crouched in the muck with their decoys, we did not see a single goose or duck during our two hour visit; indeed, a lone pied-billed grebe was the only bird found on the pools and central channel.  Among the 17 species that we encountered, the only "highlights" (a generous term) were a handful of great blue herons, a single green heron, a female northern harrier, a broad-winged hawk and a belted kingfisher.  Then, as we headed for the exit, loud cackling arose from a marsh along the central roadway.

The source of the noise was a trio of soras, small rails that migrate through Missouri; after breeding in freshwater marshes across Canada and the Northern and Western U.S., soras depart for saltwater marshlands along southern coasts of the U.S., Mexico, Central America and South America.  More often heard than seen, the reclusive, omnivorous rails saved our morning excursion. 

A Swallow-tailed Kite in Kansas

 Most of us associate swallow-tailed kites with Florida and neighboring States and, until today, I had never encountered one outside of that region.  Shortly after 11 AM, as I drove eastward on Interstate 70, I saw one along the highway, just west of the 435 interchange in eastern Kansas (Wyandotte County).

Its beautiful black and white plumage, deeply forked tail and typical kite maneuvers made identification easy, even when traveling at 65 mph.  Nevertheless, I was shocked to see the bird and was relieved to find that another birder also reported the sighting (on eBird) from the same area.

In fact, if one reviews the map of swallow-tailed kite sightings over the past 5 years (available on eBird), these magnificent aerialists have been observed as far north as Southern Canada and as far west as Wyoming, eastern Colorado and Southern California.  While most of these were likely non-breeding wanderers, it is rewarding to know that this kite might be reclaiming some of its past breeding grounds, which extended along rivers to the Northern Midwest.

From Autumn Chill to Summer Heat

Last night, I was awakened by the strong scent of wood smoke wafting through the open windows of our Littleton farmhouse.  A cold front had just passed southeastward across the Front Range urban corridor, pulling down smoky air from the Western fires.

By this morning, as we left for Missouri, the temperature was 48 degrees F, the lowest it has been this season in Metro Denver.  Cloudy and chilly conditions persisted all the way to Colby, Kansas; just south of that city, we passed through a band of rain, the leading edge of the cold front.  Once through the rain, the temperature gradually rose, reaching 70 degrees F in WaKeeney and 81 degrees F in Hays, where we will spend the night.  According the the forecast, summer-like heat, with a high of 91 degrees F, will greet us in Columbia, Missouri, tomorrow.

Unfortunately, we will miss the best weeks of the year (in my opinion) for exploring the Rocky Mountains.  From mid September to mid October, the summer crowds have thinned, early snows dust the higher peaks, the beautiful aspen display unfolds and the bugling of elk echos through the mountain valleys as bulls gather their harems.  My consolation prize will be the spectacular autumn migration of waterfowl, shorebirds and hawks through the Missouri River Valley.

Blog Fodder

Waiting on a phone call, I took a brief stroll through our Littleton farm on this warm, sunny September morning.  I wasn't expecting to observe anything unusual but one never knows.

As it turned out, I encountered the first plumbeous vireo of the fall migration season, watched a mixed group of white-breasted and red-breasted nuthatches storing sunflower seeds in the crevices of tree bark and outbuilding walls and enjoyed the comical antics of a fox squirrel, tip-toeing atop a pasture fence with a large apple in his mouth.  Nothing worth a post, some might suggest, but it is my blog!

Indeed, since I have written more than 4000 posts over the past 15 years, I am occasionally asked how I come up with enough material.  While there is plenty of redundancy in this blog (hence the Feedback Posts), there is a simple answer to their query: I go outside and look around.  The more one pays attention to nature's diversity, the more there is to write about (like a squirrel with his over-sized lunch).  

Riders on the Storm

Just before noon, dark clouds were building to our west and, as the storm approached, cool winds swept across the farm, displacing the warm air that the morning sunshine had produced.  As if on cue, our resident birds became active, clearly invigorated by the sudden chill.

Overhead, a quartet of cormorants, a red-tailed hawk and a Cooper's hawk soared in the westerly breeze, staying just ahead of the approaching storm.  In the end, we received little rain from the darkening sky but the aerial display was rewarding enough.

Of course, as I watched those birds, I immediately thought of Jim Morrison's song, Riders on the Storm, which was popular fifty years ago this summer (just after Morrison died in Paris at the age of 27). Always intrigued by his dark lyrics, I think this morning's event was a fitting tribute to the famous poet and songwriter.

September Bird Count

This morning, I took part in the September bird count at South Platte Park.  My group was assigned to the southern section of the South Platte River and to adjacent ponds and lakes.

While we encountered only 23 species over two hours, we did see a large number of snowy egrets and double-crested cormorants; other sightings of note included six wild turkeys, more than a dozen common mergansers, wood ducks and a lone sharp-shinned hawk.

As is often the case, once we left our assigned area, we saw several more species: American white pelicans, an osprey and a kestrel, among others.  Veteran birders know that we often encounter more species in our own backyard than we do on an official count; after all, birds are highly mobile and pay little attention to human boundaries and designated preserves (as well intentioned as those refuges may be).

Hike to Panorama Point

Corwina Park is accessed from a parking lot along Bear Creek, just east of Kittredge, Colorado.  A 3.5 mile roundtrip hike takes visitors from this lot to Panorama Point, which commands a broad view of the Upper Bear Creek Valley.

The first portion of the hike climbs gradually southward along a small side creek, passing through ponderosa parklands, small groves of aspen and fingers of the Douglas fir forest; Colorado blue spruce also rise along the creek.  Within a mile, this entry trail intersects both the Panorama Point Trail and the Bear Creek Trail; the former begins a steep climb onto the east wall of this side valley, using short stairways and a series of switchbacks.

Once at Panorama Point, hikers are rewarded with a spectacular view of the Upper Bear Creek Valley, centered on the Mt. Evans massif where the creek heads.  Kittredge stretches across the valley in the foreground and the outskirts of Evergreen, farther west, poke above and intervening ridge.  The rocky overlook is a great spot for a picnic lunch and, if you do break out the treats, you can count on Steller's jays and Colorado chipmunks to turn up for handouts. 

Flashback Post XXIV

Since the American football season begins this week, I thought it might be a good time to exhume my blog post from December, 2012.

See:  Modern Gladiators

Medical Messaging

One of the complicating factors during the COVID pandemic has been mixed messaging from the CDC, FDA and "experts" across the country.  The experts, which hail from universities, research centers and pharmaceutical companies, are given a broad audience by national cable services that are always looking for controversy and drama.

In my opinion, the medical community should coalesce their messaging, uniformly standing behind science-based data that would be released monthly by the CDC Director.  This data should include case numbers, vaccination rates and specific recommendations regarding protective behavior (vaccination, masking, social distancing, etc.) and therapeutic options.

Mixed messaging may be welcome fodder for the news services but it is also a potent excuse for those who refuse vaccination and/or do not adhere to other protective measures.  The current mix of personal opinions, predictions, theories and recommendations is counterproductive and dangerous. 

Past and Present II

As we progress through our lives, most of us have some regrets.  These may be related to relationships, career choices or other factors that determine the course of our life.

Dwelling on such regrets, we tend to overlook the context in which our decisions were made and, too often, wish that we could somehow change what we did or did not do.  It is easy to assume that our lives would have been more enjoyable or more rewarding if we had taken a different path.

But, of course, changing the past would undo the present and, for most of us, that would be unacceptable.  It is the nature of humans to judge ourselves and we often must learn to be happy; taking credit for what we have achieved and who we have become is the ultimate cure for futile (though unavoidable) regret. 

The Lunatic Fringe is Widening

American democracy, public health, human rights and the welfare of our planet are all under assault, led by a growing number of Republicans.  Cowed by threats from Trump and his legions, Republican politicians and their media enablers push conspiracy theories, block efforts to address climate change, enact laws that limit voting rights and personal choice, disrupt effective management of the pandemic and stymie the important function of Congress.

Despite an increasing number of hospitalizations and deaths from COVID, vaccination rates remain far too low (especially in Red States) and mask mandates are challenged.  Despite the costly devastation and human misery wrought by wildfires, hurricanes, flooding and severe winter storms, the majority of Republicans still deny climate change and do not support adequate spending on infrastructure to deal with its effects (not to mention the cultural changes required to reverse its progression).

Saddled with this large and growing populace of scientifically-uneducated and conspiracy-minded individuals, effective government is nearly impossible.  When individuals are willing to put the health and future of their children at risk, there is little room for reason or compromise.

Back to Staunton State Park

After a seven-year hiatus, my wife and I returned to one of Colorado's most beautiful State Parks this morning.  Staunton State Park stretches beneath a wall of scenic rock formations along the southeast edge of the Mt. Evans massif; it is accessed via Elk Creek Road from U.S.285.

A fine network of trails lead hikers and mountain bikers through open parklands of ponderosa pine, stands of aspen and dense pockets of Douglas fir.  Views extend to domes of granite that rise along the north edge of the Park and to the high spine of the Platte River Mountains along the southern horizon.  Visitors are almost certain to see mule deer, elk (in winter), Abert's squirrels, golden-mantled ground squirrels and an excellent diversity of Transition Zone birds (Steller's jays, mountain chickadees, gray-headed juncos and pygmy nuthatches were most conspicuous this morning); black bears and mountain lions also inhabit the Park but are seldom encountered.

Due to its beautiful setting, fine trails and proximity to Metro Denver, Staunton State Park can be crowded, especially on fair weather weekends.  I thus recommend a weekday visit and, as always, an early or late day visit will be most productive for wildlife viewing.  A nominal day-use fee is charged (currently $10 per vehicle).

A Stroll at Hudson Gardens

On this cloudy, relatively cool afternoon in Littleton, my wife and I took a walk at Hudson Gardens in the South Platte River Valley.  Once a private botanical gardens and long a venue for outdoor concerts and holiday events, the Gardens are now owned and managed by the South Suburban Recreation District; admission is free from sunrise to sunset.

Unlike some botanical gardens, which have an artificial feel, this attractive preserve is a mosaic of plantings, natural vegetation, creeks, ponds and wetlands; of course, educational exhibits are also utilized to promote conservation and habitat protection.  Since we visited in the afternoon, we encountered few birds but did see a bull snake and a muskrat.

Most of all, we enjoyed a pleasant stroll on uncrowded trails, enveloped in soothing, early autumn air.  I'm sure we'll return frequently in the coming months, especially since the Gardens are directly accessible from the riverside Greenway Trail, a path we often hike along.