Setback at Eagle Bluffs

Six weeks after our last visit, a friend and I drove through Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning.  The pristine wetland ecosystem that we had left behind was now crawling with construction equipment and farm tractors.  Water was primarily limited to the central channel and crops covered most of the fields.

Disappointed by the turn of events, we completed our usual loop drive and saw a fair variety of birds.  Great egrets, all huddled in one shallow pond, were most abundant while a trio of young scissor-tailed flycatchers proved to be the highlight.  Other than two turkey vultures, no raptors were observed.  In total, 19 avian species were encountered during our 90 minute visit.

How odd that a brief recovery was permitted to occur before this floodplain wetland was all but closed down once again.  No doubt, there are reasons related to wastewater management but this second round of devastation was difficult to accept. 

Back to Phillips Lake

After a prolonged absence, my wife and I returned to Perry Phillips Lake early this morning.  While "development" continues along the Park's rim, it was a pleasant visit, having completed our loop walk before heat became a factor.

Annual cicadas provided a background chorus while pockets of ironweed, trumpet vine and bright red wild plums added color to the verdant landscape.  Following recent heavy rains, the lake was full for the first time this year though swallows and a lone great blue heron were the only birds to take advantage of its bounty.  Birdlife was otherwise limited to common summer and permanent residents and, as is usually the case there, northern mockingbirds were most conspicuous.

While I have previously decried the development along the edge of the Park, this former farm lake and its adjacent woodlands, fields and wetlands continue to attract an interesting mix of wildlife.  We'll keep visiting whenever we're in Columbia.

A Gift from August

August, long renowned for its heat, arrived overnight behind a cold front, bringing cool, misty weather to central Missouri.  Ahead of that front, heavy rain fell across Columbia, a welcome dose of moisture during this long, brutal summer.

While we certainly appreciate that a dramatic change in weather has arrived with the new month, there is little doubt that the heat will return as the front heads east.  But, for now, the cool respite will facilitate some much-delayed yard work.

Since it is the last meteorological month of summer, August invites us to look ahead to the glorious season of autumn.  Unfortunately, climate change is pushing back that transition and, before long, August may represent the midpoint of a prolonged summer season. 

Heat-Seeking Raptors

On this hot, humid afternoon in central Missouri, a trio of Mississippi kites soared above our Columbia neighborhood, feasting on insects.  Their energy under such conditions is impressive.

After nesting and summering across the Southern Plains and Lower Mississippi Valley, they will escape to South America for another summer in the Southern Hemisphere, traveling through hot climes along the way.  When you feed primarily on flying insects, it is best to be where they thrive.

While their seasonal movements are instinctual, these kites are certainly unfazed by weather that many, if not most humans, find oppressive.  Then again, they are not subjected to dire heat advisories. 

A Skink Emerges

As I discussed in A Skink Mystery, last September, our resident five-lined skinks, which were of usual abundance in the spring, disappeared throughout the summer.  In fact, they failed to emerge in the autumn as well and I came to the conclusion that a local die-off had occurred.

Very common on our Columbia property since we moved here in 1997, they would scurry across the deck and walkways or hang out at the compost bin to feast on a variety of invertebrates.  This spring and early summer passed without any sightings (though I am often out of town).  Then, about 10:30 this morning, as I lounged on our front porch, a young skink, sporting its bright blue tail, raced across the bricks.  He/she was the first I have seen here since the spring of 2025.

I have no explanation for this confusing saga but was glad to witness an apparent recovery.  Nature keeps us guessing. 

Sandstone & Pines

Two nature preserves in the eastern section of The St. Francois Mountains are notable for their exposures of Lamotte sandstone.  Deposited during the Cambrian Period, about 500 million years ago, it is among the oldest sedimentary rocks in Missouri.

At the Pickle Springs Natural Area, east of Farmington, visitors walk on, along and through exposures of Lamotte sandstone (see photo) on a two-mile loop trail.

Farther east, Hawn State Park also lies atop this sandstone and the sandy soil that it generates appeals to native shortleaf pines.  Indeed, this Park is one of the few in Missouri to actively protect stands of these stately trees (see photo), including through the use of controlled burns. 

Hughes Mountain Natural Area

Our first (and hopefully our most strenuous) hike in the St. Francois Mountains was at Hughes Mountain Natural Area, on Route M, southwest of Irondale.  The roundtrip hike was approximately two miles in length and the elevation gain was 380 feet.  While neither stat seems terribly remarkable, there were a number of steep, uneven sections along the way and, after all, we are not youngsters.

On the other hand, we were rewarded with fabulous views from rock outcrops along the route and especially from the broad clearing atop the mountain (see photo).  Precambrian rhyolite dominated those rock exposures.

The journey to Hughes Mountain was rewarding as well.  Our route climbed through forested hill country, studded with attractive homesteads and ranches.  Of course, the small town residents offered their own flavor of backcountry life.  

A Day in Ste. Genevieve

After slogging through heavy rain in St. Louis yesterday, we drove another hour south to Ste. Genevieve, on the Mississippi River floodplain.  Founded by French settlers in 1740, the town had to be moved three miles upstream in 1785 due to severe flooding along the river.

Nevertheless, Ste. Genevieve is the oldest, continuously inhabited town in Missouri and is home to the largest concentration of French Colonial Architecture in the country.  A fine museum introduces visitors to the history of French settlement and the historic section of town offers a pleasing mix of galleries, restaurants, retail establishments, hotels and B&Bs for visitors.  Indeed, we are staying in the Audubon Hotel, named after the famous naturalist who, with a colleague, ran a mercantile store in St. Genevieve in the early 1800s.

The Ste. Genevieve Levee National Wildlife Refuge runs along the Mississippi River floodplain east of the city but trails, other than the levee trail, are not well established at this point.  Today, we'll head into the St. Francois Mountains; details to follow.

 

The St. Francois Mountains

Over the next few days, my wife and I will explore the St. Francois Mountains, in southeast Missouri, eroded from an ancient Precambrian dome of volcanic and intrusive rocks.  Almost 1.5 billion years old, this dome pushed up through the strata of the Ozark Plateau during the Ouachita Orogeny (about 300 million years ago). 

Known for their scenic outcrops of granite and for their rich supply of lead, these Mountains host five Missouri State Parks and are drained by the St. Francis River and its tributaries; this river flows southward into northeast Arkansas before joining the Mississippi north of Helena.  Taum Sauk Mountain, elevation 1772 feet, is both the highest peak in the St. Francois Mountains and the highest point in Missouri.

We will be staying in Ste. Genevieve on the Mississippi River and our adventures will be documented in the next few blog posts.  Hopefully, the weather will cooperate.

A Melanistic Cottontail

While melanistic (black) eastern gray squirrels dominate the squirrel population in some regions of this country, especially near the Great Lakes, melanistic eastern cottontails are rare genetic variants.  Indeed, until this morning, I had never seen one despite more than sixty years of exploring natural habitats.

Driving into Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area, I saw a black rabbit near the side of the road that scurried into the dense vegetation as I approached.  Though escaped or released domestic rabbits account for most black rabbits encountered in America, they retain their docile behavior and are rapidly culled by predators.  This morning's cottontail had the lean figure of a wild rabbit and clearly sensed danger from my advancing pickup.

I hoped the black cottontail might re-emerge for photographic documentation but I gave up after ten minutes or so.  Accepting the fact that I had just witnessed yet another example of nature's fabulous diversity, I moved on.  

Waders in the Shallows

Returning to Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area this morning, a friend and I found that the water levels have continued to fall and that vast shallows spread out from the central channel and along the primary drainages of the refuge.  Not surprisingly, these conditions attracted a large number of waders (61 great blue herons and 37 great egrets), perhaps the most I have ever observed at this floodplain preserve.

As summer sets in, waterfowl were limited to the resident Canada geese and a lone, male wood duck.  Killdeer were the only "shorebirds" and turkey vultures were the sole raptors.  Dickcissels, the most abundant songbirds, called from the drier grasslands while many summer residents, hidden in the foliage, were identified by their songs; these included yellow-breasted chats, yellow warblers and common yellowthroats.  More conspicuous were indigo buntings, fish crows and mixed flocks of swallows.  A single cormorant, finding the water too shallow for diving, flew across the refuge, heading for deeper fishing grounds.

Having recovered from a prolonged drought, this wetland refuge must now rely on periods of heavy rain to sustain its rich ecosystem.  Of course, human visitors, ourselves included, hope that summer storms regularly douse the floodplain. 

Ox-Eye Daisy

By mid May, the fields, meadows and highway medians of Missouri are adorned with beautiful swaths of ox-eye daisies.  A native of Europe and Asia, this perennial wildflower spreads by seeds and by rhizomes, explaining both its tenacity and its ability to spread.

Indeed, this wildflower may appear in a wide variety of habitats,  including lawns, abandoned fields and open woodlands.  Its presence in pastures may degrade their nutritional value and, on dairy farms, the daisies may taint the flavor of the milk.

But, for most of us, these "invasive" plants beautify the landscape.  After all, we humans introduced them. 

Our Natural Aviary

Just outside the family room of our Columbia, Missouri, house, is a magnolia tree with an open maze of internal branches.  Unobstructed by leaves, it attracts perching birds and offers us a direct view of our avian visitors.  Indeed, movement within this central area often attracts my attention, even when I am otherwise occupied.

This convenient rest stop for avian visitors and residents has certainly accounted for more species identifications than any other location in our yard.  Just this afternoon, a tiny, female northern parula alighted in the magnolia, briefly foraging along a limb before flying off.  Yesterday, a Swainson's thrush, a common spring migrant on its way to Canada, stopped by, posing in the tree for several minutes.

A window on the great outdoors, especially with a feeder or a perching tree nearby, is an excellent way for new birders to become familiar with the many species that reside in or visit their yards; it is an especially valuable resource for those too infirm to explore outdoor habitats. 

Back from South America

Mississippi kites have returned to central Missouri after a winter in South America (primarily in southern Brazil and northern Argentina).  Usually migrating in sizable flocks, they begin to split up as they approach their summer range.

Despite their name, these kites are most abundant in the Southeastern U.S. and across the Southern Plains but some nest as far north as Iowa and Nebraska.  As I have reported in the past, they have become increasingly common in central Missouri in recent years; indeed, I saw two late yesterday afternoon.

These spectacular aerialists are best observed in the evening, when they swoop and dive to snare flying insects.  Should they land, usually in the tops of large shade trees, their whistling calls are frequently heard.  They'll stick around until September, when they begin their long journey back to the Southern Hemisphere.

See also: Whistling Kites 

Our Mystery Buckeye

Last summer, we found a small buckeye tree growing in one of our flower beds.  How it got there was uncertain but we assumed its seed had arrived in the feces of a deer and was then buried by a squirrel.  This spring, we learned more about the tree.

Early this month, red flowers appeared (photo).  Since our native buckeye species flower in the summer, this suggested the tree is a Eurasian import, known as a horsechestnut.  Furthermore, its opposite, palmately compound leaves have seven leaflets, typical of horsechestnuts; American buckeyes have five leaflets.  Finally, the red, upright flower clusters, indicate it is likely a red horsechestnut, a hybrid of a common horsechestnut and a red buckeye.

Whatever its exact classification may be, it is an attractive tree and a welcome addition to our flora.  Its presence demonstrates the value of establishing wild borders, allowing nature to determine their resident plants and animals.  Less expense and work for us and more natural diversity on the property.   

Disappointed at Babler State Park

Always looking for new hiking locations, my wife and I visited Dr. Edmund A. Babler Memorial State Park, south of Chesterfield, Missouri, this morning.  Home to a pleasing Visitor Center and an Outdoor Education Center, its forested hills are accessed by paved roads that are popular with cyclists and which lead to a number of picnic areas, shelters and camping sites.  An equestrian trail also winds through the Park.

On the other hand, its hiking trails, while leading through mature deciduous forest, into glades and down to spring-fed creeks, are not well engineered.  Neither do they lead to any overlooks that might offer the visitor some perspective of the local topography.  After a night of rain, the soggy trails made foot travel difficult, if not treacherous, in some areas.

One might question why a naturalist, such as myself, would be disappointed by a lack of manicured trails, overlooks and other hiking amenities.  Were it a conservation area, wildlife refuge or nature preserve, my criticism would, indeed, be inappropriate; but, in my opinion, State Parks should encourage exploration beyond traditional human recreation sites and a safe, inviting, educational trail network best serves that purpose. 

 

A Catbird Soliloquy

 Late this morning and into the afternoon, a male gray catbird has been delivering a prolonged soliloquy of musical notes, calls and other harsh sounds from a shrub line in our backyard.  Of course, having just arrived from his wintering grounds, he is staking out his summer territory and trying his best to attract a mate.

Though he tends to remain hidden for much of the day, he does come out to search for insects in the grass before returning to his seemingly endless vocalizations.  Once he attracts a mate, a nest will be placed in the shrubbery and his soliloquies will eventually give way to the mewing sounds for which he is named.  By early autumn, his diet will shift to a mix of insects and berries and he will soon be off to the Southern U.S. or Mexico for the colder months.

Until then, this noisy but attractive summer resident is more than welcome on our property.  After all, like other insectivores, his service is far preferable to the use of toxic pesticides.

Avian Explosion at Eagle Bluffs

Now that this fabulous floodplain refuge has returned to its former glory and we are in the midst of spring, Eagle Bluffs was alive with birds this morning.  Indeed, on my two hour visit, I encountered 43 species, many of them summer residents.

Swallows (all five species), blue-winged teal, dickcissels and indigo buntings were most abundant.  Highlights included a pileated woodpecker,  American avocets, white-faced ibis and soras; the latter, usually best observed on cloudy, rainy days, were especially vocal and visible on this bright, May morning.  Eastern kingbirds and common yellowthroats were more numerous than I had expected and our common waders, great egrets and great blue herons, are gradually regaining their past summer populations.  Ironically, an immature bald eagle was the only raptor that I saw.

Though I had hoped to encounter black terns, a personal favorite, it is a bit early for those late spring migrants.  Nevertheless, my overall experience was more than rewarding and I'll continue regular visits whenever I'm in Columbia. 

First Summer Sparrow

Enjoying the shady retreat of our front porch yesterday afternoon, I caught site of a small sparrow that was foraging on the street and intermittently flying up into a large sweetgum tree.  I knew it had to be a chipping sparrow (the first of the year for me) due to that behavior and I soon confirmed its identity with my binoculars.

Common across most of the U.S. during the warmer months (though generally absent on the Great Plains), these attractive and rather tame sparrows feast on both insects and seeds.  Their nests are placed in shrubs or low in trees (usually conifers) and two broods are typically raised each summer.  Come October they head to the southern tier of the U.S. or to Mexico for the winter.

Most sparrows that are encountered in Missouri are permanent or winter residents.  Chipping sparrows are an exception and it is always a pleasure to catch their arrival in the spring. 

Greenery Rising

Yesterday afternoon, as a steady south wind brought warm, humid air into central Missouri, I rescued our Beetle from the garage and headed for the country.  Escorted by turkey vultures, sailing along in the cloudy sky, I did not encounter many birds or mammals but I was taken by the greenery, ascending from the lush grass, through the shrub lines and into the trees.

Our recent warm, wet weather had produced the transition from winter browns to these many shades of green, the product of chlorophyll, the fuel of life on Earth.  Absorbing carbon dioxide and releasing oxygen, green plants sustain our atmosphere, long threatened by the burning of fossil fuels.

Of course, the leaves themselves feed a wide variety of life forms, from microbes to insects to mammals, ourselves included.  Following the fickle weather of March, this explosion of greenery in April is always a welcome spectacle.