Turkeys in the Morning

On this sunny, relatively cool morning, I drove through the lower Bonne Femme Valley, south of Columbia.  Wildlife sightings were initially unremarkable, including a young buck, a red-tailed hawk, two great blue herons and a host of common songbirds.

Then I rounded a corner and encountered a parade of nine wild turkeys, foraging for seeds, waste grain and insects in a field.  Closer to my pickup, a female and her four poults dashed along the graveled road and escaped into tall grass.

Though wild turkeys are certainly not rare, the sudden appearance of this flock on an otherwise uneventful morning was a special treat.  As all naturalists know, such surprise encounters are what encourage our regular visits to nearby forests, fields and wetlands.  

Living in the Middle

Having just returned to the Heartland from the Subtropical environment of South Florida, I am once again inclined to consider where we live.  The same would occur if I had come back from other areas with unique or spectacular landscapes, most of which lie along the Coasts of the U.S. or throughout the mountain corridors.

But there is something to be said for living in the middle of the country.  Within a day's drive, we can visit the Great Lakes, the Rockies, the Appalachians or the Gulf Coast; those who live in the more "exotic" corners of America are far removed from most other landscapes.

Naturalists know that we could spend a lifetime just learning about the life forms that inhabit or visit our own backyard.  Yet, we yearn to explore other ecosystems and the American Heartland offers more natural diversity than most residents realize; at least for now, we enjoy four distinct seasons, each of which bestows its special gifts.  I'll continue to travel to and through the varied landscapes of America but I choose to live in the middle. 

Gestalt Birding

Though I am a veteran birder, I would characterize my hobby as Gestalt Birding, craving the whole experience rather than focusing on the minutia of the excursion.  For me, the natural environment is of more interest than the individual creatures that inhabit it.

Some avid birders focus solely on their quarry, responding to every movement or shadow that draws their attention.  Often equipped with powerful binoculars and telescopic cameras, they are dedicated to both their species list and its documentation.  While they surely enjoy the fresh air and scenery, it is secondary to their primary activity.

I (and I'm sure most naturalists) appreciate the natural milieu, including the weather, the topography, the waterways, the component ecosystems and the role and interaction of the many wild residents that reside in or visit the preserve.  Of course, I encounter a variety of birds in the process but equally enjoy the other animals and plants that I come across.  Nature is all about the interdependence of life forms and witnessing that phenomenon is what draws me into her realm.  

Leaving Paradise

After almost two weeks in South Florida, we are heading back north.  We escaped the Arctic Blast, enjoyed warm weather (most of the time) and were able to walk on the beach whenever we were so inclined..  With its nearly permanent warmth, exotic foliage, boating opportunities and fascinating wildlife, many call it Paradise.  I will admit, it is a nice place to visit.

But I prefer seasonal change with all its hassles and challenges.  Most naturalists, myself included, appreciate the natural diversity of the Temperate Zone, where the complex interactions of flora and fauna vary throughout the year.  There we become familiar with permanent residents, seasonal residents and numerous migrants and enjoy a wide variety of plants that undergo dramatic change as the seasons unfold.

Tonight we will stay in north Georgia, still in "The South" but far from the Subtropics.  We have left Paradise and are heading for home, a less predictable but more familiar (and I would say more interesting) swath of Planet Earth.  

Nature's Glory Days

Others may disagree but I (and I suspect most naturalists) believe that October is the pinnacle of nature's year in the Northern Hemisphere.  Mild, sunny days and clear, crisp nights are the rule and, on the heels of a long, hot summer, they invite outdoor exploration.

Of course, our wild neighbors seem to agree; invigorated by the chill, they are more active and conspicuous and, throughout the month, are joined by winter residents that filter down from the north.  Plants put on a show with their colorful foliage and their nutritious nuts and berries attract a host of wildlife.  Since the chilly nights have suppressed the insect population, we are all more comfortable as we explore the forests, prairies and wetlands.

Some may dislike the shortening daylight and dread the looming winter but nature has saved her best for last.  These are her glory days.

Wild Haven Nature Area

Owned and managed by the Columbia Audubon Society, Wild Haven Nature Area stretches along the upper reaches of Hinkson Creek in northeast Boone County.  Remote and "undeveloped," it is not a destination for those seeking manicured trails and rustic bridges.

On the other hand, it is ideal for those seeking solitude and a peaceful walk through the winter woods.  Today we encountered only wildlife, consisting primarily of common forest songbirds; a red-shouldered hawk and a sizable flock of rusty blackbirds were the highlights.

Remoteness, a lack of "comfort facilities" and uneven trails are all gifts for the naturalist.  The natural residents thrive in the undisturbed wildness while our fellow humans head elsewhere, preferring park-like settings and graveled (if not paved) trails.  

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).  

Memories from the Garage

On this warm, sunny day in Littleton, my wife and I decided to clean out the garage.  Amidst all the junk were boxes of "momentos" for each member of our family.  Mine included photos, documents and "appointment books" from grade school through my early practice years, a collection spanning about twenty years of my life.

Of course, this collection brought back many fond (and some not-so-fond) memories of people and events that shaped my formative years.  Most had stayed with me but some had been lost to the march of time.  Nevertheless, it was an unexpected treasure chest of the past that provided a couple hours of entertainment after a morning of steady work.

Among the momentos was a nature diary that I wrote during our years in Glendale, Ohio.  There we lived in a historic neighborhood with large yards; adorned with a broad diversity of plants, they attracted a fascinating variety of wildlife.  The diary, inspired by the books of Hal Borland, Edwin Way Teale and others, was composed of brief entries related to the weather, the resident plants and animals and the seasonal changes on our property.  Written almost exactly twenty years before I initiated this blog, it provides a look back at my early years as a naturalist; now rescued from a dusty box, it will be a welcome source of nostalgia and reflection during the autumn of my life.

Travel, Naturalists & Authors

Halfway through Travels with Charley, by John Steinbeck, it is clear that naturalists and more traditional writers have a different focus as they journey through a country.  While we naturalists are likely to expound on the landscapes, climate and wildlife, authors such as Mr. Steinbeck are more interested in the people, their culture, their settlements and the nature of their lives.

Indeed, Steinbeck was clearly prone to loneliness, seeking human interaction whenever possible, from the reticent farmers in New England and the Canadian migrant workers in northern Maine to the more garrulous residents of the Midwest.  While he has much to say about quaint New England towns, traffic congestion in large cities, the lives of long-haul truckers and the burgeoning mobile home industry, his reference to the landscape is, so far, fleeting and devoid of much detail.

Nevertheless, his travelogue is entertaining, replete with his personal philosophy and reactions to what and who he encounters.  After all, though naturalists might prefer travel books by Edwin Way Teale and others, one cannot divorce human nature from our natural environment; indeed, there are few (if any) landscapes where some degree of human impact is not evident. 

The Killer Instinct

Naturalists know that the "killer instinct" is common in nature, characterizing predators from dragonflies to lions and tigers.  Many humans also possess this trait, which may have negative connotations in some cases (serial killers, for example).

But the term might also be applied to athletic competitors, especially those who engage in individual sports such as golf, track, swimming and tennis.  In such cases, the athlete demonstrates exceptional skill, self-confidence, perseverance and the fortitude to "finish the task."  Many become perennial winners while others clearly lose their killer instinct during periods of their career.

Avid sports fans tend to admire these traits in athletes.  While some root for underdogs nevertheless, we naturalists, students of survival, are inclined to favor those with the killer instinct.

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.

Just Open Space

On this sunny, cool morning in central Missouri, I visited Bradford Farm, east of Columbia.  An agricultural research center for the University of Missouri, it is also a popular local birding destination.

Due to last week's snowstorm, the graveled roadways were sloppy and most of the crop fields were still covered with a thin veneer of wet snow; both ponds were frozen over. Fortunately, I had driven my pickup back from Colorado and had no problem negotiating the farm roads; also, the less-than-ideal conditions helped to insure that I was the only visitor.  Unfortunately, the birding was not so great and I observed only nine species during my one-hour tour, highlighted by a male northern harrier that hunted low over the crop fields.

Then again, we naturalists relish the opportunity to spend time in open country, whether it be farmland, forest, prairie, tundra or wetland; no doubt, most of us appreciate a bit of solitude as well.  So this morning's visit was well worth my time and effort; just open space, with its sights, sounds and smells, is rewarding enough.

Sailing with Magellan

Attending a used book sale last week, my wife bought Over the Edge of the World, by Laurence Bergreen, which documents "Magellan's Terrifying Circumnavigation of the Globe."  She thought I might enjoy the book and, as usual, she was right.  Ironically, Magellan, his 260 man crew and their five ships set off from Seville, Spain, 500 years ago this month!

Portuguese by birth, Magellan came of age during the Golden Age of Portuguese navigation, when Vasco de Gama and other mariners established trade routes to the Spice Islands (Indonesia) by sailing along the southern coasts of Africa and Asia.  Convinced that he could reach that same destination by heading west (but denied funding by Portugal), Magellan turned to the King of Spain to sponsor his voyage, promising to return within two years with untold riches from the Spice Islands.

Three years later, a handful of the original crew members and only one ship (the Victoria) limped back to the Spanish Coast, devoid of riches but having proved, for the first time, that our home planet is indeed a globe.  Highlights of Magellan's expedition (all from Bergreen's account), will be offered in coming posts.  Having read the first few chapters to date, I highly recommend the book.

Steady State

For the naturalist, mid summer is the closest nature comes to a steady state.  The weather varies little from day to day, plants are maturing but the explosive growth of spring has ended and the new generations of birds and mammals are increasingly independent.

Migrant flocks of shorebirds are now drifting into our wetlands but the massive exodus of songbirds, waterfowl and some raptors is still months away.  Oppressive heat suppresses daytime activity for most birds and mammals and has taken a toll on the verdant landscape of spring and early summer.  Even the atmospheric turmoil of that period has settled into a predictable pattern of daytime heat and evening thunderstorms.

Most of us limit our outdoor activity to the morning or late daylight hours and our expectation for new discoveries is at an annual low.  Only the amphibians, reptiles and insects thrive in the cauldron of mid summer and many humans, myself included, yearn for the cool change of autumn and the natural invigoration that comes with that season.

Flashback Post II

On this Easter Sunday, I thought I would link back to a post from April of 2012 which describes a formative experience in my development as a naturalist.

See: Easter Awakening

Genetics, Evolution & Mysticism

When Charles Darwin developed his theory of natural selection, the role of chromosomes would not be discovered for another fifty years, the structure of DNA would not be determined for another century (Watson and Crick released their findings in 1953) and the human genome would not be mapped for more than 150 years (2003).

Indeed, Darwin's projections were based solely on his powers of observation and deduction.  Noting the diversity of species within a genus and the variation of individuals within species, Darwin concluded that these findings were due to inherited factors, the persistence of which was determined by their relative importance in ensuring the survival of that species.  Many years later, we would discover the role of genes, sexual recombination and genetic mutations in this process.

While Darwin faced his skeptics and dissenters, modern science has since confirmed the validity of his theory.  Nevertheless, the power of religious mysticism, fueled by fear and threatened by objective data, continues to influence human society.  After all, the science of evolutionary biology indicates that all plants and animals, humans included, are species on the ever-expanding web of life; having evolved from ancestral species they will all either become extinct or evolve into future species (assuming the environment is not destroyed beforehand).  The simplistic story of creation, conceived by man, is no longer viable.

Darwin & Domestication

In The Origin of Species (the shortened title of his book from the second edition onward), Charles Darwin devotes his first chapter to the diversity observed in domesticated plants and animals.  One might wonder why such a well-traveled naturalist would initially focus on these common, well-known species.

Since his book was written in the 1850s, well before scientists, let alone the general public, had much knowledge of inheritance, Darwin apparently chose this approach to insure that his points were more easily understood, based on the personal experience of his audience.  In essence, he uses the chapter to illustrate the diversity of domesticated species and the diversity of individuals within any given species.  Placing emphasis on the selective breeding process, engineered by humans, he sets the stage for his theory of natural selection to follow.

Clearly conscious of the potential reaction from other scientists, religious leaders and the public at large, Darwin eases his readers into the concept of evolution, a process that negates the role of a Creator.  In the mid 19th Century, that was a courageous undertaking indeed.

Straight from Darwin

Born in Shrewsbury, England, in 1809, Charles Darwin initially planned careers in medicine and theology before joining the crew of the HMS Beagle in 1831.  Over the next five years, he explored natural ecosystems across the globe, including those of the Cape Verde Islands, much of coastal South America, the Galapagos Islands, Tahiti, New Zealand, eastern and southern Australia, several islands in the Indian Ocean, the Cape of Good Hope and the Azores.  Heavily influenced by Charles Lyell's Principles of Geology, Darwin began work on his own treatise outlining his theory of natural selection and published the "abstract" as On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life in 1859.  Since the release of that seminal work, he has rightly been hailed as the father of evolutionary biology and has been widely criticized by religious zealots across the globe.

As one who was raised in a religious family but also received an excellent education in the sciences (including a B.S. in Biology), I have been heavily influenced by Darwin's theories throughout my life.  Indeed, his work, as well as the early writings of men like Jean-Baptiste Lamarck and Alfred Wallace, set the stage for modern advancements in genetics, biology and natural history; at the same time, the role of mysticism in human civilization, while still potent, has gradually diminished.

Though long familiar with Darwin's theory of natural selection, I have never read The Origin of Species.  That deficiency will be corrected over the next week or so as I absorb Darwin's argument in his own words.  I look forward to the intellectual adventure and will dutifully report any highlights in this blog.

Jim Bridger

Born in Richmond, Virginia, in 1804 (the same year that the Lewis and Clark Expedition began), Jim Bridger moved to St. Louis, Missouri, during his childhood; after his parents died, Jim joined a fur trapping company at the age of 16 and spent most of his life exploring the Rocky Mountain region, from Southern Colorado to Canada.

Despite having received little formal education, Bridger became fluent in French. Spanish and various Native American languages.  In 1842, he and his fur-trapping company established a trading post in Southern Wyoming on the Blacks Fork of the Green River; this was an important supply center on the Oregon Trail and would later become Fort Bridger, a military post.  After a life in the wilderness, Jim Bridger settled in Kansas City where he died in 1881.

Anyone who travels through the Rocky Mountain region encounters evidence of Bridger's historic importance.  Among the natural features named for this intrepid explorer are the Bridger Range, NNE of Bozeman, Montana, the Bridger-Teton National Forest, a major component of the Yellowstone ecosystem, Bridger Pass, near the south end of the Great Divide Basin (in southern Wyoming) and Bridger Peak (11,004 feet), the highest summit in the Wyoming portion of the Sierra Madre Range (which extends southward into north-central Colorado).  For an uneducated orphan, Jim Bridger accomplished a great deal during his 77 years on this planet!

Wandering with Teale

At the beginning of each season, I pull out one of Edwin Way Teale's books from the American Seasons Series.  Born in Joliet, Illinois, in 1899, Teale is a famous naturalist who wrote four travel books (among others) that documented his journeys through the seasons.  North with the Spring, his first, was researched on a trip in 1947, followed by Autumn Across America in 1952, Journey into Summer in 1957 and Wandering through Winter in the winter of 1961-1962.  Teale died in 1980.

More than travelogues, these books offer intimate descriptions of the landscapes and ecosystems through which he and his wife traveled.  While he visited well-known parks and nature preserves along the way, Teale had a curiosity that made every byway interesting and he taught me, as a reader, that we can learn a great deal from what, at first glance, might appear to be rather mundane habitat.  Indeed, it was this trait that attracted me to his books and why I included North with the Spring as one of the Four Books that most influenced my life as a naturalist.

As the astronomical winter begins, I have pulled Wandering through Winter from the shelf and will, at the very least, skim its contents.  More than fifty years after writing his American Seasons Series, Teale is still good company.