Pokeweed

One of the more conspicuous plants in the early autumn landscape is pokeweed. Growing in small stands or as scattered, individual plants, they are identified by their racemes of blue-black berries on plastic-pink stems and their large, drooping leaves that alternate from a thick, light-weight stalk. Sun-loving, pokeweed is most often found along fence lines or at the border of fields and woodlands.

The plant's tender, green, spring vegetation is edible if boiled twice to remove toxins. However, as the plant matures, the stalk and leaves take on a reddish tinge; by that time, the entire plant (including the berries and roots) is toxic to mammals (which, of course, includes us). Birds, immune to the toxin, love the berries and spread them by seeds passed in their droppings; cardinals are especially fond of this fruit.

Pokeweed, also known as inkberry, was once used by Native Americans to produce a dark-red, ceremonial dye. Today, it colors our landscape with its flowers, foliage and berries (and with the birds that stop to enjoy its bounty).

The Outdoors Month

October has arrived with its warm, sunny days and chilly nights. The oppressive heat and humidity of summer are now a distant memory and the glorious days of October coax us into the woods and fields. Mammals are more active, migrations are beginning to peak, autumn colors paint the foliage and the cool, dry air invigorates wildlife and humans alike. Almost any Midwestern naturalist would likely pick this month as their favorite; then again, it may be my personal bias showing through.

Nature centers, urban trails and State Parks probably see their largest crowds in October. It's a great month for hiking; dry trails offer good footing, insect populations are dwindling and the cool air boosts our endurance. Photographers love the month for its colorful foliage, clear air and deep blue skies. Those who adore summer may decry this step toward winter; for others, including myself, its a welcome reprieve from the heat and a portal to the best season of the year!

Two-Plate Countries

The great majority of the countries on this planet lie completely upon their respective Continent's plate. However, there are some that straddle two tectonic plates and are thus especially susceptible to earthquakes.

Iceland is the most obvious example; rising above the mid Atlantic Ridge, the western half of this island nation lies on the North American Plate while the eastern portion is part of the Eurasian Plate. While almost all of the continental U.S. and Mexico occupy the North American Plate, Southern California and the Baja are inching slowly to the northwest atop the Pacific Plate. Easternmost Russia and northern Japan lie on the North American Plate while the remainder of these countries sit on the Eurasian Plate. New Zealand also straddles two plates; its North Island and the northwest portion of its South Island lie on the Australian Plate but the rest of the South Island occupies the Pacific Plate.

But the most complex assembly of countries and tectonic plates is in the Middle East. Here, Lebanon and Syria straddle the African and Arabian Plates while Turkey and Iran, primarily on the Eurasian Plate, also overlap portions of the Arabian Plate. The latter Plate has been moving northward for the past 20 million years, crunching into the Eurasian Plate, pushing up mountain ranges and triggering massive earthquakes.

Winter's First Jab

Thunderstorms are rumbling across Missouri this morning, the leading edge of a cold front that will bring us the first significant chill of the season; the rest of the week is expected to be dry, with highs in the 60s (F) and lows in the 40s. Spring and fall are the battle-grounds of winter and summer and this appears to be winter's first jab.

The weather gyrations of spring and fall coincide with an undulating jet stream, which creates an alternating pattern of cool and warm weather across the Heartland. Troughs (dips in the jet) allow Canadian air to spill southward while ridges (northward curves in the jet) open the Midwest to a warm, humid flow from the Gulf of Mexico. As autumn progresses, the jet will gradually move southward and flatten out; broad troughs will dominate the region and the chill of winter will become entrenched. By then, winter will have won the battle and summer will not renew its challenge until March.

Tropical Canada

After forming in the Caribbean as a tropical depression, the storm that would become Hurricane Kyle brought heavy rains to Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic. Then, drawn northward by an upper low off the Carolina coast, it became a tropical storm, passing just west of Bermuda. An approaching cold front continued to accelerate the storm and, moving north across the warm Gulf Stream, Kyle became a hurricane.

While most hurricanes fizzle out as they enter cooler waters of the North Atlantic, Kyle has been moving at a fast clip and its circulation has managed to hold together; this afternoon, the hurricane is about to make landfall across southern Nova Scotia and the south coast of New Brunswick. Heavy rains will lash Maine, west of its track, but the damaging winds and storm surge will be restricted to Canada.

Though nor'easters, produced by potent cold fronts, bring destructive winds and waves to this region on a regular (seasonal) basis, tropical hurricanes rarely reach this latitude; the last to strike coastal Maine was in 1991. Three days short of October, it's certainly odd to use the words tropical and Canada in the same sentence!

Hybrid Life Forms

Last evening, my wife asked me to look at something in the flower bed; it appeared to her that an animal had vomited on the bark mulch. With that description, I knew she had discovered a slime mold.

Despite their ugly appearance, slime molds are fascinating organisms that demonstrate features typical of both plants and animals. Once classified as Myxomycota, within the Kingdom of Fungi, slime molds are now placed in their own Kingdom (Protista) by many mycologists; beyond the confusion regarding their classification, slime molds are a heterogeneous group, generally divided into cellular and plasmodial forms. Beginning life as a spore, this mystery organism initially becomes either an ameoboid cell or a flagellated swarm cell; the former group fuse into plasmodial species while the latter stick together to form cellular mats. The plasmodial forms may be a few centimeters to several feet in diameter; in either case, the individual cell walls break down and the parent slime mold looks like a giant amoeba with thousands of nuclei.

Slime molds germinate in cool, moist areas where decaying vegetation harbors a large supply of microorganisms (bacteria) on which it feeds. Spreading across its feeding ground, the slime mold grows until the ground begins to dry out or its food supply is exhausted; it then morphs into a fungal-like organism with variable spore bearing structures (surface puff balls in some species, feathery stalks in others). Once the spores are released, they lodge in the soil and "wait" for favorable conditions to redevelop.

Caught between animal and plant kingdoms, slime molds occupy a unique niche on this planet; unable to group them with other life forms, I'll have to give them their own blog label. That will be easy enough for me but I'm concerned for the creationists: on what day did God create slime molds?

Natural Health

As a physician, I know that many medical problems are not preventable; genetic disorders, many infections, accidents and a variety of cancers fall into this category. And I also realize that modern medications and procedures have significantly improved the quality and longevity of our lives; vaccines, antibiotics, insulin and sterile surgical techniques are just a few examples.

But many of the maladies that afflict humans are partly or totally preventable. Furthermore, the treatment of these "lifestyle diseases" levies a heavy toll on our society. Inactivity, poor dietary habits, tobacco use, excessive alcohol consumption, drug abuse and other risky behavior are at the root of many of our most common and most costly medical problems. Too often, humans indulge in these behaviors, believing that medications and/or surgical procedures will bail them out down the line. As a result, many of them end up with a history of multiple operations and a long list of daily medications (some of which are prescribed to manage side effects of other therapies).

A healthy, well balanced diet, regular, aerobic exercise, avoidance of toxic substances, attention to safety practices and efforts to minimize stress will allow most of us to enjoy a long life with the minimal use of medications. The pharmaceutical industry, as evidenced by their relentless commercials, would like for us to think that there is a pill for every problem; while that may be true, there are better, more natural ways to maintain our health.

Cuyahoga Valley National Park

As the last Pleistocene glacier, the Wisconsin, retreated into Canada, some 14,000 years ago, the Cuyahoga River and its tributaries began to erode a scenic valley in northeast Ohio. Protected as a National Recreation Area in 1974, this 33,000 acre wonderland, rich in human and geologic history, is now a National Park. Access to the preserve is via I-271 (Exit 12) or eastward from I-77 via S.R. 82 or Pleasant Valley Road (the Independence Exit).

Erosion along the walls of the Valley has uncovered 60 million years of geologic history; outcrops of Sharon Conglomerate, Pennsylvanian in age, dot the ridge tops while cliffs of Devonian shale rise along the river. Middle layers of the gorge are composed of Mississippian sediments, including Bedford Shale and Berea Sandstone. Groves of Canadian hemlock, relics of a periglacial ecosystem, cover shaded slopes of the valley, adding diversity to the rich, deciduous forest.

Numerous trails wind through the Park, taking visitors to secluded waterfalls, rock ledges, recessed caves and scenic side canyons; hikers can also follow the abandoned towpath of the Ohio and Erie Canal, with runs along the east side of the Cuyahoga River, just north of the S.R. 82 bridge. A fabulous destination throughout the year, the Park is especially scenic in late September and October, when autumn colors paint the landscape.

The Fall Migration

Though we have just officially entered the autumn season, the fall migration of North American birds began back in July as the first shorebirds drifted south through the Heartland. This movement of plovers and sandpipers, from Arctic breeding grounds to southern beaches, will continue into early November.

Meanwhile, other migrations have begun, led by common nighthawks in late August. These insect hunters are still passing through Missouri, joined by summer songbirds throughout September; by mid October, most of these fair-weather species will be gone and winter residents will be arriving from the north. The duck migration, which begins with the exodus of cinnamon and blue-winged teal in September, will continue into December, generally peaking in number and variety by early November; early ducks are accompanied by American white pelicans while cormorants, loons and grebes move with the later groups.

By early November, the migrant geese begin to arrive in America's Heartland, providing some of the most spectacular wildlife viewing of the year. Canada and snow geese dominate the scene, joined by smaller flocks of brants, white-fronted and Ross' geese; as lakes and wetlands begin to freeze over, many will move on to Gulf Coastal marshes. Having begun in July, the fall migration ends by mid December, covering a five month span!

Hawks in Flocks

Most hawks are solitary creatures. They are seen in pairs during the breeding season and may gather in small groups at favored hunting grounds but otherwise spend much of their lives alone. And, unlike most birds, the great majority of these predators do not migrate in flocks; three exceptions are native to North America.

The broad-winged hawk, a small buteo with prominent tail bands, is unusual in two respects. In contrast to most buteos, which live and hunt in open country, this crow-sized hawk inhabits deciduous forests where it hunts from a secluded perch for mice, snakes, lizards and small insects. By mid September, broad-wings, which range across the eastern half of the Continent, gather in large flocks and begin their migration to South America. Taking advantage of updrafts along the Appalachian ridges, they may be seen in flocks of a hundred or more; Hawk Mountain, in Pennsylvania, is renowned for these sitings.

Swainson's hawks, large buteos of the American West, also migrate in flocks (though generally in much smaller congregations than the broad-wings). Their southward journey begins by late September and may be observed through October; Argentina is their winter destination. Sharp-shinned hawks, long-tailed accipiters, may also be seen in loose flocks during the fall migration; unlike the above-mentioned buteos, most remain in North America where they strafe parks and neighborhoods, hunting for songbirds.

Ocean Floor Topography

Looking out at the vast, blue ocean, one might assume that its floor is as flat and featureless as its surface. But, in fact, the ocean floor has the same variety of topography that we see on land: mountains, hills, plains, basins and canyons. The ocean floor forms at the mid ocean ridges and moves off toward the oceanic trenches, where it is consumed back into the mantle; along the way, deposition, erosion, fault motion and volcanism mold its surface.

More than 30% of the ocean floor is covered by volcanic ridges; most of these are aligned along the spreading zones, where new ocean crust is forming and where the bordering tectonic plates are being pushed apart. In other areas, these ridges have developed over a volcanic hot spot and extend off in the direction of the plate motion; the Hawaiian Ridge is an excellent example of a regional volcanic ridge. The summit of most volcanic ridges are well below the surface of the ocean but some are tall enough to exceed sea level, forming clusters or chains of islands (Hawaii, Iceland, the Galapagos islands etc.).

In contrast, deep canyons (called trenches) form at subduction zones, where an oceanic plate is forced downward as it collides with another plate. Among the more famous oceanic trenches are the Philippine Trench (where the Philippine Plate is subducting beneath the Eurasian Plate), the Aleutian Trench (where the Pacific Plate is subducting beneath the North American Plate) and the Peruvian Trench (where the Nazca Plate is dipping below the South American Plate). The deep waters of these ocean canyons are among the least explored areas on Earth and likely harbor life forms that we cannot yet imagine.

Staying Together

Since this is my 33rd Wedding Anniversary, it seems like a good time to revisit the subject of monogamy. As I have expressed in past blogs, the study of natural history suggests that monogamy is not a natural human condition; rather, it has been encouraged (if not imposed) by religious and cultural laws. However, most of us would agree that, in our complex, modern society, a stable, committed, monogamous relationship offers the ideal environment for the healthy development of children. Nevertheless, the divorce rate continues to hover near 50% in developed, Western cultures.

Some marriages are sustained solely through the power of guilt, a response to religious and social pressure. Others work due to the interdependent psychological needs of the partners. But it seems to me that most successful marriages reflect the willingness of the partners to give each other space.

Humans are social creatures. However, most of us require periods of solitude and cherish the freedom to pursue interests that our spouse may not share. Healthy relationships, built on trust and respect, make room for those needs. While nature ignites sexual attraction and romantic love in order to ensure procreation, we humans are left to foster and sustain our relationships; a willingness to compromise is essential.

Breeding Champs

There seem to be more meadow voles on our Littleton farm this year. Perhaps this is due to a better food crop following the copious rain and snow this spring; more likely, it reflects the eviction of our fox family, primary predators of these prolific rodents. Then, again, we have plenty of hawks, kestrels and owls around to keep their numbers in check.

Meadow voles spend most of their brief life in burrows and runways beneath dense grass (or beneath snow in the winter); several of their entry portals are evident along our driveway, which borders one of the pastures. Females are able to breed by one month of age and, in their 12-18 month lifespan, produce a litter of 4-12 youngsters every 3-4 weeks; to some degree, birth rates rise and fall relative to the local food supply. Obviously, meadow voles are one of the most prolific mammals on the planet.

When not breeding, these voles are eating, consuming over 50% of their body weight each day. Active day and night, they feed primarily on grasses, herbs and weeds during the warmer months, converting to seeds, sapling bark, berries and dead vegetation in winter. Though almost exclusively herbivorous, they are known to eat insects and occasionally cannibalize the young of other voles; at least they're taking some responsibility for population control!

The Scratchers

Many birds attract our attention with their colorful plumage; certain buntings, grosbeaks, tanagers, orioles and waders come to mind. Others have distinctive calls; even novice birders can identify magpies, crows, blue jays, flickers and belted kingfishers without actually seeing them.

Then there are the scratchers. While most ground-feeding birds sift through leaf litter for seeds or insects, some species are especially vigorous in this regard; robins, thrashers, hermit thrushes and fox sparrows are excellent examples. But the king scratchers are the towhees and their energetic feeding style often calls our attention to their presence.

Of the four species in North America, the rufous-sided towhee is the most common and widespread; this species, which has eastern and western races, is a permanent resident in much of the U.S., though it departs more northern regions in winter. Here in Colorado, it is joined by the green-tailed towhee, which inhabits foothill shrublands and canyons during the warmer months. The other two species, Abert's and brown towhees, are restricted to desert and semiarid regions of the Southwest.

Cottonwood Cathedrals

On my frequent walks along the South Platte River, I often stop to enjoy the shady, peaceful environment of the cottonwood groves. Common along the rivers and creeks of eastern Colorado, between elevations of 3500 and 6000 feet, the plains cottonwood matures into a massive tree with a thick trunk and a wide, branching crown. Older groves are cathedral-like in their natural splendor and provide home to a wide variety of creatures.

Magpies and hawks construct bulky nests in their upper branches, often used by great horned owls in later years. Fox squirrels, raccoons, opossums, screech owls, wood ducks and bats use cavities in these majestic trees and their spreading crown attracts riparian songbirds; among the latter are western wood pewees, yellow warblers, chickadees, white-breasted nuthatches, downy woodpeckers and northern orioles. Northern flickers often dominate these groves and dead trees are favored nest or roosting sites for bald eagles, ospreys, double-crested cormorants, great blue herons, black-crowned night herons and belted kingfishers. An understory of wild plum, wax current, wild rose and sand willow diversifies the resident wildlife, attracting house wrens, brown thrashers, gray catbirds, blue jays, white-footed mice, long-tailed weasels, six-lined racerunners and a variety of snakes.

Of course, these cottonwood groves are especially "productive" for birders during the spring and fall, when migrant songbirds hunt along the streams as they move to and from the mountains. In like manner, new residents, including northern cardinals and white-throated sparrows, have moved into Colorado via these riparian woodlands. Long threatened by agriculture, timber production and flood control, these natural cathedrals are a source of inspiration and reflection; amidst their majestic beauty, we are reminded that our natural heritage remains under assault.

A Hornet Nest

Since my last visit to our Colorado farm, a gray, basketball-sized, turban-shaped globe has appeared in one of our apple trees; not to be mistaken for a pinata, this is, of course, a hornet nest. No doubt present during my visit in July, the nest has "grown" to a more conspicuous size over the past two months.

Pregnant female hornets emerge from their winter retreat in spring and lay eggs in a cluster of paper cells that they attach to a tree limb; unlike other wasps, they enclose these cells in a protective envelope (the "paper" is formed by salivary digestion of wood scraps). Once the eggs hatch, the attentive queen feeds them until the larvae pupate; emerging as sterile female workers, this initial brood returns the favor by expanding the hive and tending to the queen, who will continue to lay fertilized eggs throughout the spring and summer. Space for the new egg chambers is made by scraping away the inner layer of the envelope and adding a new layer to the outside; over the months, the enlarging envelope houses a growing colony of worker hornets, larvae, pupae and eggs. Access to the nesting cells is via an opening on the underside of the globe; watching from a safe distance, one can see worker hornets arriving and departing throughout the day as they gather nectar and paper substrate.

As the autumn chill arrives, the queen lays eggs that will hatch into fertile males and females; these non-workers will mate and the pregnant females will become next year's queens. Once the winter freeze sets in, the hive is abandoned, the future queens retreat to warm dens (either underground or in structures) and all others perish.

Back on the Farm

It's good to be back at our Littleton, Colorado, farm, if only for a week. September is always a good time to visit and, since I was last here in July, there has been a significant change. Recent rains have greened-up the "lawn" and the trees and shrubs look especially vibrant for late summer. It's been a good year for pears, apricots and crab apples but the other apple trees have a rather sparse crop. The mulberry trees have been picked clean by the robins, orioles and house finches but there's plenty of juniper berries to last the winter.

The rose of sharon and trumpet vines are still in bloom, attracting our resident hummingbirds and a few migrants from the mountains. Other visitors have included western wood pewees, Lincoln's sparrows, rufous-sided towhees, yellow warblers, western tanagers and a surprising number of blue-gray gnatcatchers. The collared doves and lesser goldfinches, first seen in July, are still hanging around, joining the usual mix of chickadees, northern flickers, mourning doves, house finches, blue jays and magpies.

A neighbor is boarding a quartet of calves on our large pasture and all of the activity seems to have evicted our resident fox. For now, the squirrels and songbirds need only fear the occasional "sharpie" that streaks through the neighborhood and the Swainson's hawks that often soar above the farm.

The Yellowing

After days of heavy rain, there was nothing but brilliant sunshine on my trip to Colorado today; only the distant smoke of power plants and shimmering clouds of starlings marred the deep, blue sky. A dome of high pressure had settled over the Plains, clearing the air and stifling any wind; the turbines at the Smoky Hills Wind Farm, west of Salina, were nearly stationary.

Despite the spectacular weather, wildlife was scarce on my drive along the interstate. Turkey vultures tilted above the shallows of the Missouri River floodplain, searching for victims of the deluge. Red-tailed and Swainson's hawks hunted along the highway, several herds of pronghorn grazed the High Plains near Limon and the occasional box turtle tempted fate on our concrete ribbon of death.

Most noticeable were the changing colors of the landscape. Summer greens had faded to olive, the Flint Hills tallgrass was tipped with gold and a variety of sunflowers, coneflowers and goldenrod adorned the grasslands of Missouri and Kansas. Not to be outdone, the croplands offered their seasonal gold, including fields of yellowing soybean, gold-headed sorghum and cultivated sunflowers. In eastern Colorado, yellow clumps of rabbitbrush and western goldenrod adorned the prairie and creekside cottonwoods were dappled with gold. As summer wanes, yellows paint the American West.

Ike's Reign

Born two weeks ago, off the coast of Africa, Hurricane Ike ravaged several islands of the Caribbean before spinning into the Gulf of Mexico and growing into a massive, category 2 storm. Leaving a broad swath of water and wind damage across coastal Texas and Louisiana, it moved inland and brought heavy rains to northeast Texas, eastern Oklahoma and Arkansas.

Over the past twenty four hours, an approaching cold front nudged Ike to the northeast and, as of this morning, its remnant depression was centered over southeast Missouri. Here in Columbia, we received torrents of rain before the winds shifted from the north, indicating that the "backside" of Ike's circulation had arrived. Making a beeline for Chicago, Ike will leave more flooding before its reign ends over the Great Lakes region.

Though the route of these storms may seem aimless, their motion is a reflection of upper air flow which, in turn, is governed by the jet stream pattern. Once Ike entered the Gulf of Mexico, it was deflected westward by high pressure over the Southeastern U.S., causing it to strike Texas . Once inland, the storm encountered an advancing trough; this dip in the jet stream pushed Ike off to the northeast, squeezed between the approaching cold front (to its northwest) and the retreating high pressure dome (to the southeast).

Storm Surge

As hurricanes come ashore, they cause destruction via heavy rain, high winds and storm surge; the latter is often least appreciated by coastal residents and visitors. The amount of rainfall is most closely related to the forward speed of the hurricane; the slower it moves, the more rain it drops on any given area. The wind damage correlates with the strength of the hurricane; the lower the central pressure, the higher the sustained wind speed and, thus, the greater the impact on structures.

The storm surge refers to the buildup of ocean water ahead of the storm. As the hurricane comes ashore, it acts like a giant plow, forcing a broad river of water toward the coast; this phenomenon is greatest to the right of the storm's center, reflecting the counter-clockwise motion of the surface winds. The threat from storm surge is related to the size of the hurricane and to the region's topography; flat coastal plains that lie along shallow bays are especially vulnerable.
If the coastal water is deep and the impact area broad, the plowed water can displace downward and outward, minimizing the surge; however, if the sea is shallow and the topography funnels the flow into a bay or river valley, the building surge has no escape and a devastating flood develops.

Hurricane Ike, currently a category 2 storm, is forecast to strike the northern coast of Texas tonight. Gulf waters are relatively shallow in that area and coastal bays to the right (north) of the landfall will experience the greatest inflow of water. A storm surge of 20 feet is expected; any land (and structures) below that elevation will be underwater.

Earthquake Central

Looking at a map of the North Pacific, one finds that the Aleutian Chain of Alaska is continuous with other islands off the east coast of Asia; the latter include the islands of Japan. This curving line of islands marks the southern edge of the North American Plate, which extends northward to include eastern Siberia; south of Tokyo, the Japanese islands lie on the eastern edge of the Eurasian Plate. Indeed, Japan lies at the intersection of four major tectonic plates: the North American, Eurasian, Philippine and Pacific Plates.

The North American and Eurasian Plates are colliding in the center of Honshu, Japan's largest island; though the exact position of this collision zone remains controversial, most geologists place it just southwest of Tokyo. The Philippine Plate is subducting beneath the Eurasian Plate along the southern margin of Japan while the Pacific Plate is subducting beneath the North American Plate along the eastern edge of this island nation. Finally, to the southeast, the Philippine and Pacific Plates are scraping against one another.

All of this tectonic activity makes Japan very susceptible to earthquakes; today's quake was off the east coast of Hokkaido (Japan's large, northern island), reflecting a release of pressure along the Pacific-North American margin. Volcanism along both of the subduction zones produced the islands of Japan and, in concert with this tectonic activity, poses an ongoing threat to the country's residents.