Flashback Post LVIII

As we approach Halloween, pumpkins adorn homes, shops and garden centers across the country.  It seems like a good time to republish a post from 2007, released less than a year after this Blog was created. 

See: Pumpkins

The Last Autumn Warbler

Yellow-rumped warblers breed across Alaska and Canada and southward through the Western Mountains, Great Lakes and New England.  Late autumn migrants (relative to their many cousins), these hardy warblers winter throughout most of the Eastern U.S. as well as California.

Here in Colorado, they begin to drift down from the mountains in September and may be seen along the Front Range urban corridor through October.  Since they feed on berries as well as insects, they are in no hurry to move southward.  Indeed, while most of our other warblers winter in the Tropics, the majority of Colorado yellow-rumps likely winter in Texas or Mexico.

Early this evening, I watched a pair of these warblers flycatching from bare, sunlit branches in the canopy of our large honeylocust.  Perhaps they'll hang out for a few days before moving on. 

Wind Dancers

Yesterday afternoon, as a strong, southeast wind raked Metro Denver, I caught sight of two double-crested cormorants, circling high above our farm.  Powerful fliers, usually seen making beelines across bays or lakes, they do often soar during the warmer months.

This pair, not content to merely soar, engaged in brief dives as they danced in the clear blue sky, a behavior I had not seen before in that species.  As they moved on, a pair of red-tailed hawks took the stage, seemingly prepared to outshine the cormorants.  Of course, their agility was far superior and some of their dives were breathtaking.

Were this a competition, the medals would go to the hawks.  But, at least for this judge, the cormorants earned points for originality.  Note to fellow birders: don't forget to look up; you just might miss the show.

An Extensive Drought

As of this week, almost all areas west of the Appalachians, in addition to coastal areas of the Northeast, are experiencing some degree of drought.  While flooding from Hurricanes Helene and Milton has deservedly received a great deal of attention, the widespread drought is potentially even more devastating.

Many areas of the U.S. have received only a negligible amount of rain throughout October and above normal temperatures are forecast for the coming week.  Mountain snowpack is off to a slow start in the West and river levels are falling across the Heartland.  The risk of wildfire has increased significantly in most regions of the country.

Warm, sunny weather is appealing to most humans and we tend to focus more on storms than on drought.  In that regard, another tropical storm appears to be brewing in the Caribbean.  One hopes it might move northward and spread welcome rain across the Plains and the Midwest but it would have to cross the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico en route, likely spawning another destructive hurricane.  Slow-moving, Pacific cold fronts would offer a better and less damaging remedy for the drought but our changing climate seems to yield extremes at every turn.

Those First Juncos

Dark-eyed juncos don't garner much attention from non-birders.  They are just among those small songbirds that feed along roadways or beneath the shrubbery.

Common winter residents in most regions of the U.S., juncos are not prized inclusions on birding lists during those colder months.  But their first appearance in autumn is always a treat, at least for this aging birder.

Having just arrived at our Littleton, Colorado, farm, I encountered the first small flock of the season, comprised of two subspecies (Oregon and slate-gray); the regional gray-headed juncos, which descend from the nearby mountains and foothills for the winter, should arrive any day now.  By mid November, we'll have dozens of juncos on the farm and their presence will be taken for granted; then, come mid-April, when they head for cooler landscapes, they'll be missed once again.  If only they knew. 

Climate Change and Deveaux Bank

In the Autumn, 2024, issue of Living Bird from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, an article describes both the importance of and threat to Deveaux Bank, an offshore island at the mouth of the Edisto River, near Charleston, South Carolina.  Long known as an important breeding site for brown pelicans, black skimmers and other marine birds, it gained special notoriety in 2017 when it was documented to be a rest stop for 20,0000 whimbrels, migrating between the Arctic and South America.

As is reported in the article, Deveaux Bank was significantly eroded by Hurricane Idalia and another powerful storm last year, though some acreage has since been added back by river sediment.  Knowing its importance as both a marine bird nesting site and as a rest stop for half of the whimbrels in Eastern North America (in addition to other shorebird migrants), the island was closed to human use for seven months (March 15-October 15).

This saga highlights the fact that humans are not the only species affected by climate change (though we were the only species to cause it).  Then again, many, if not most species are more adaptable than we are; nevertheless, we must intervene on their behalf whenever possible. 

First Creeper

Sitting on our back deck on this mild, sunny afternoon in central Missouri, I observed my first brown creeper of the season.  Among our most aptly named birds, its unique silhouette caught my attention as it circled up the trunk of a large maple tree, searching for insects or their eggs.

Having summered and bred in Canada and southward through the mountain corridors, brown creepers generally turn up in October as they migrate south or stop here for the winter.  Whatever the circumstance, they are generally found alone though they may appear in the company of chickadees, titmice and nuthatches.

Arriving with the cool autumn weather, they are always a welcome visitor.  Unobtrusive and easily overlooked, their insect control service is also under appreciated. 

Vote for Future Generations

The upcoming U.S. Elections are critical for so many reasons.  Among the most important is the need to mitigate climate change.

Recent severe weather events across the globe attest to the dangers of global warming.  While most of us have been complicit in the factors that triggered this catastrophe, we must commit ourselves to minimizing its advance by voting for advocates of policies that address climate change.

We owe it to future generations to commit ourselves to this effort.  Vote Democratic at every level.  It is the least we can do.  

Western Snow

As the current atmospheric trough drifts eastward, warmer air will stream up from the south, "normalizing" conditions for mid October.  Meanwhile, out west, another trough will dip through the Mountain States, bringing the first significant snowfall to higher elevations.  Indeed, the San Juan Mountains, in southwest Colorado, may receive over two feet of snow.

While such early season snowstorms do not necessarily portend a heavy winter snowpack, they will help to suppress the ongoing wildfires.  We can only hope that the western snow season is long and prolific.

No doubt, these deep gyrations of the jet stream are a secondary effect of our warming climate.  Extreme cold and abundant snow will be just as common as excessive heat and torrential rain as the jet is energized.  Dramatic swings in our weather and more powerful storm systems will surely become the norm. 

A Gift from the North

A deep and broad atmospheric trough (produced by a dip in the jet stream) is allowing cool, Canadian air to flow southward.  Extending from the Rockies to the East Coast, this trough will bring the first convincing period of autumn for many Americans, especially for those in the Southeast.

Here in central Missouri, we expect our first freeze of the season by midweek and will experience temperatures below average for mid October.  Bringing clear skies and relief from the heat, humidity and recurrent storms, it is a welcome development indeed.

In no hurry to leave, the trough is bringing back the October of old and may just nudge migrant waterfowl southward.  Time to hit the trails to enjoy the colorful foliage, fresh air and energized wildlife! 

Vote for Kindness & Empathy

Forget for a moment the substantial policy differences between Vice President Harris and citizen Donald Trump.  Ignore, if you can, the wide gulf between the candidates on human rights, environmental protection, gun control, foreign policy, immigration, social justice and economic fairness.  Judge them purely on the basis of their character.

How do they compare when it comes to decency, kindness and empathy?  Do we not want a President with those qualities?  Do we want to be represented by someone who demonstrates no interest in or concern for his fellow human beings?  Do we want a President incapable of empathy?

I think the choice is clear at the Presidential level on down.  Vote Democratic!  

A Dry Refuge for Waterfowl

Arriving at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, in the Missouri River Valley, on this warm, sunny morning, I noticed that the annual signs are up, advising visitors that the southern half of the refuge will be closed from October 15 to March 1 to provide undisturbed wintering habitat for waterfowl.  At the same time, I found that this floodplain refuge is drier than I have ever seen it; I suspect the migrating geese and ducks will take note as well.

I did observe 6 northern shovelers and 6 pied-billed grebes on my 7-mile tour, hardly the throngs that one might expect in mid October.  Indeed, turkey vultures and red-winged blackbirds dominated the scene, not exactly members of the waterfowl clan; a lone, immature bald eagle was feeding on carrion in a dry crop field and a sharp-shinned hawk strafed the floodplain, likely hoping to pick off a blackbird.

Per reports that I have received, the dry landscape is intentional, necessary for the health of native wetland plants.  No doubt that is true but the waterfowl will, for now, go elsewhere.  Maybe next year. 

Finally: A Spectacular Aurora

After years of seeking the Aurora borealis across northern latitudes and a less than impressive viewing in Colorado last May, my wife and I enjoyed a spectacular display in central Missouri last evening.  Having learned that the Aurora would be especially active for the next few days, we headed up to the flat Glaciated Plain of the Midwest, about 25 miles northeast of Columbia, to escape the city lights.

Finding a secluded spot in the open cropland, we parked along a graveled road.  The sky was clear though the half-moon produced a mild haze.  About an hour after sunset, a dome of faint light, resembling a bank of clouds, stretched across the northern horizon and we began to dread a repeat of our Colorado experience.  Then, after another half-hour of anticipation, curtains of green and broad plumes of red appeared in the sky (photo by Darcy Folzenlogen).

We enjoyed the spectacle for another hour before heading home.  Our long pursuit of the Northern Lights had finally been successful, not in the wilds of the Great North but in the Heartland of America where we have spent most of our lives. 

Milton and the Front

Before Hurricane Milton made landfall, at Siesta Key, Florida, its outer bands had produced almost forty supercell tornados across southern portions of the State.  Indeed, damage from those storms might exceed that produced by the hurricane core itself.

As Milton reached the Gulf Coast, it was interacting with a front that dipped across Northern Florida, producing torrential rain on the north side of the hurricane (including the Tampa-St. Petersburg area).  The most intense winds of the eye-wall remained south of that Metro Area and the strongest storm surge hit the coastline south of Sarasota.

News of damage on Longboat Key may take a while to emerge but our primary risk may have come from surge off Sarasota Bay as well as the high winds of the eye-wall.  Overnight,  Hurricane Milton has moved northeastward along the front and across the Florida peninsula, unleashing heavy rain and destructive winds before heading into the Atlantic. 

In Milton's Path

We purchased our condo on Longboat Key, Florida, over 20 years ago; even then, the building was almost 40 years old.  When we made that leap, we understood that owning property on a barrier island carries a significant risk.  This week, it appears that risk has become a reality as Hurricane Milton, currently a Category 4 storm, barrels toward that narrow strip of sand.

A storm surge of 15 feet is currently predicted and our condo complex may end up in Sarasota Bay.  Though global warming was receiving limited attention back in the early 2000s, we now know that building on barrier islands is pure folly; even if the structure might withstand severe storms, access, utilities and nearby amenities may be lost for extended periods of time.  Indeed, there has been a general exodus from low lying coastal areas of Florida as both extreme weather and insurance rates increase dramatically.  Only the very wealthy are still buying property in these high risk zones.

Whatever level of damage is inflicted by Milton, we won't be visiting Longboat Key anytime soon.  Nature may just reclaim the site.

Summer's Last Gasp?

Way back and not so long ago, October was a month of mild, sunny days and clear, cool nights.  That pleasant weather, combined with the colorful foliage, made it the favorite month for many of us in the Northern Hemisphere, especially for those who relish outdoor activity.

Today, thanks to a dome of high pressure, our afternoon high may reach 90 degrees F in central Missouri and highs in the 80s F will dominate the coming week; it feels more like late August than early October.  While we can hope that this is summer's last gasp, our warming climate may push "typical October weather" well into November.

In concert with heat across the Heartland, another tropical disturbance is forming in the western Gulf of Mexico, forecast to spread torrential rains and destructive winds across the Florida Peninsula in the coming week.  Help to mitigate climate change and its severe weather patterns: Vote Democratic! 

Self Image & Memory

The image that we have of ourself is based on our memories, those related to our personal behavior, our relationships, our successes and our failures.  Of course, our self image is also influenced by early childhood experiences (which we cannot recall) and by suppressed memories (too painful to dredge up).

Then again, studies suggest that our memories are malleable, subject to alteration when repeatedly called up and re-stored.  Nevertheless, our self image is governed by this unreliable script of vague events and interactions from our past.

Do we really know ourself?  Perhaps more importantly: do we judge ourself fairly?  

Excursion into the Past

Looking for a new natural area to explore, my wife discovered Carrington Pits Recreation Area in the Mark Twain National Forest, southwest of Fulton, Missouri.  Carrington was a coal mining community that was destroyed by a tornado in the late 1920s.  In honor of that town, Carrington Pits Recreation Area was established by the Forest Service, centered on a chain of lakes and ponds that occupy the old mining pits.

After zigzagging across cattle country on graveled roads, we arrived at a small pullout that was once the entry point for the site.  From there, an overgrown jeep road leads through the forest; a one mile hike along that path brought us to the secluded lakes, where we spooked small flocks of wood ducks as we approached.  Remnants of the Recreation Area, which was initially established in the 1930s, included weathered and splintered fishing decks, several picnic tables and an abandoned toilet hut.  Clearly, the site has not been utilized (at least in any official capacity) for quite some time.

Nevertheless, it was a peaceful excursion into the past, serenaded by forest birds and greeted by swaths of wildflowers.  Though I tend to root for Nature and her power of reclamation, it was sad to see that this tranquil spot, once enjoyed by our fellow humans, has likely been a victim of fiscal prioritization. 

Problems are Relative

We have all experienced problems in our life, most minor and some serious.  At times, they seem to arrive in rapid succession.

Fortunately, even serious problems can usually be addressed by a cadre of professionals or service personnel and management plans are rapidly designed; a game plan always reduces the stress of a problem, no matter how serious it may be.  But when problems arise suddenly and unexpectedly within an environment where assistance is not readily available, they can be overwhelming.

Such is the case in Asheville, North Carolina, where the entire community (homes, businesses, utilities, transportation) were destroyed or incapacitated by flooding.  Help must arrive from beyond its confines and an overall management plan will be slow to emerge.  Even a massive influx of funding and volunteers cannot rapidly reverse the damage wrought by such a powerful storm.  Climate change is a problem that will put all others in perspective.