An Attractive Killer

A large Cooper's hawk (likely a female) has been hanging around our neighborhood for the past few days.  Strafing the trees to snare victims, the accipiter's presence has caught the attention of a blue jay posse, determined to evict her from their territory.

Larger and heavier cousins of the sharp-shinned hawk, Cooper's hawks are also identified by the rounded end of their long, banded tail.  They favor large to medium sized avian prey, zeroing in on flickers, jays, starlings, pigeons and doves; Coopers may also grab a squirrel on occasion.  Victims are killed by suffocation, squeezed in the hawk's powerful talons.

Permanent residents throughout most of the U.S., Cooper's hawks, like many raptors, are perhaps best observed during the colder months, when deciduous trees have dropped their leaves.  Of course, the barren trees also aid their hunting, making prey more visible and accessible.  Though once primarily a resident of forests, these attractive raptors have become increasingly common in suburban areas and wooded farmlands, likely attracted by songbirds at feeders and pigeons in barnyards.

Illness & Control

Once we are old enough (and mature enough) to be independent of our parents, we strive to have control in our life, a factor vital to our happiness and self-esteem.  We make personal decisions regarding our career, friendships, lifestyle and geographic location.  Should love strike, some personal control must yield to compromise but partners soon learn that granting each other a reasonable degree of freedom is essential to sustaining the relationship.

Unfortunately, our need for control may be challenged by external factors such as accidents, social upheaval and natural disasters.  At some point in our lives, almost all of us face serious medical illnesses and those that are life-threatening are especially prone to upend our sense of control.  While management plans often have a calming effect, the knowledge that unseen pathology is smoldering beneath the surface, likely to erupt at some point, threatens our self-confidence.  Treatment schedules and dietary restrictions disrupt our lifestyle and the effects of the disease, or of the medications used to treat it, alter our sense of well being.

By staying informed, adhering to a therapeutic regimen and developing contingency plans, we retain some degree of control.  Nevertheless, medicine is an inexact science and illnesses do not always unfold as expected.  More than the symptoms themselves, the loss of control in our life is perhaps the most unsettling aspect of disease, however mild or severe it might be.

September Chill

The first significant chill of the season enveloped Columbia this morning; the overnight low was in the upper forties (F).  At Forum Nature Area, in the Hinkson Creek Valley, patchy fog covered the floodplain and steam rose from the seasonal lake.

Goldenrod, sunflowers, thistle and purple ironweed provided color amidst the fading greenery, which shimmered with dew in the bright September sun.  Invigorated by the morning chill, flocks of restless Canada geese circled above the refuge while barred owls called from the creekside woodlands.  Out on the misty lake, great blue and green herons stalked the shallows and noisy killdeer raced along the mudflats.

Humans seemed to enjoy this respite from muggy summer heat as much as the wildlife and a steady parade of visitors, most with their canine companions, moved along the graveled trail.  While more heat will surely invade the region, this morning's chill signals that summer is losing its grip on the Heartland. The glorious days of autumn lie ahead.

Killing a Toad

This morning, as I backed out of our driveway, I accidentally smashed a toad.  Not aware of the incident until I returned, some thirty minutes later, I was dismayed by the carnage.  It took a shovel and a hose to remove the carcass and its smeared contents from the cement.

Most humans are upset by the killing of wildlife unless it involves licensed hunting to control populations or to put food on the table.  Trophy hunting is deplored by the great majority of humans, a fact that became especially evident when a renowned lion was recently killed in Africa.  Even more upsetting is the poaching of wildlife to provide "therapeutic" benefits for misguided cultures across the globe.

Unfortunately, the accidental killing of wildlife along our roadways has become a rather common experience.  Though most of us slow down near wildlife crossings and make every safe effort to swerve past turtles, squirrels and other critters on the road, dead animals line our travel corridors.  Many shrug it off as a modern fact of life but some of us mourn their loss, especially when we were the agent of their demise.

National Geographic & the Fox Empire

Most Americans who are middle aged or older (myself included) were first exposed to exotic cultures, endangered species and distant pristine ecosystems on the colorful pages of National Geographic Magazine.  More than an assembly of beautiful and inspiring photographs, the magazine has placed emphasis on the science of nature and on the importance of protecting our environment and conserving its diversity.  So too have National Geographic films taken us across the globe and into space, increasing our awareness of the complex natural history of our Universe.

I was thus dismayed (and frankly disappointed) to learn that National Geographic has accepted a financial lifeline from the Fox Media Corporation, the empire of Rupert Murdoch.  As we know, that network's flagship news channel is the mouthpiece of Evangelical Christians, Right-wing Republicans, Wall Street tycoons, fossil fuel proponents and climate change deniers.  While both organizations insist that the partnership is purely financial and that Fox executives will not influence the content of National Geographic programming, one wonders why an esteemed, nature-based society would team up with a corporation known for its anti-science rhetoric.

No doubt, competition is brutal when it comes to viewership and fund-raising.  Let's hope this arrangement does not taint the image or the fabulous work of the National Geographic Society.  In my opinion, it's better to downsize or to bow out gracefully than to survive by lending credence to an organization that has long ridiculed your message.

Religious Celebrity

Here in America, celebrity is obtained through various channels.  Many do so as entertainers, some as athletes and others as politicians.  Popes and bishops have long received celebrity status and, these days, public martyrs are joining the list.

Over the past week, a county clerk in Kentucky, though married multiple times herself, has become a public saint by denying marriage rights to gay partners.  Despite the recent ruling by the Supreme Court, sanctioning such rights throughout the country, this devout Christian clerk has proclaimed that, in light of her deep faith, she cannot respect that decision.  Rather than resign, she went to jail for contempt of court and has since been released.

Sensing a political opportunity, two Republican presidential candidates appeared on the scene, honored to be seen with this latest religious celebrity.  Never mind the fact that her faith-based decision denied rights to another group of Americans.  After all, religion is all about intolerance and discrimination.  Freedom of religion is their cause; to hell with freedom from religion!

Prey Survival Strategies

Having devoted yesterday's post to the nature of predators, I am inclined to give prey species their due. In their effort to survive and reproduce, the hunted (many of which are also hunters) have, through the relentless force of natural selection, adopted a wide range of traits and behaviors.  While speed, agility, strength and night vision are among the more common survival traits, they are not always sufficient.

Many prey species utilize some degree of camouflage to evade predators; their coats, feathers, skin or anatomic features blend with their natural environment, serving to hide them from hunters; some animals change color with the seasons while others, such as chameleons, can alter their color to match their surroundings.  Since some poisonous insects and amphibians have developed bright, colorful markings to warn potential predators of their toxicity, other nonpoisonous species have adopted similar markings to deflect the interest of predators.  Many prey animals congregate in large schools, flocks or herds to confuse predators and to increase the chance of survival for any given individual; others inhabit islands or nearly inaccessible terrain to avoid predation.

Finally, since the young are a common target of predators, parental (usually maternal) and community protection of eggs, larvae or newborn animals is a vital strategy in many species; some larger mammals, such as elephants and musk oxen, are especially effective in this regard.  If only all humans were as devoted to the welfare of their offspring!

The Nature of Predators

As the ecosystems of the Northern Hemisphere experience a shift from the warmer months to the colder months, predators gain an advantage.  Of course, predatory species have some traits that offer an advantage throughout the year.  Among the more obvious are anatomic features that aid in grasping prey such as long tongues, powerful jaws, sharp teeth, lethal venom and deadly pincers or claws.

Keen senses are certainly among the most important characteristics of predators.  Highly developed eyesight is shared by hunters such as mantids, dragonflies, spiders, lizards, raptors, seabirds, flycatchers and felines.  Sharks, snakes, bears and canines are renowned for their sense of "smell" while excellent hearing (including the use of echolocation) aids predation by owls, bats, fox and dolphins.

Finally, though predators are not always as large or as powerful as their prey, they are generally more intelligent.  This trait is vital when it comes to cooperative hunting, stalking and the use of tools to catch prey.  Wolves, wild dogs, lions, dolphins, whales, sea lions, corvids (jays, crows, ravens) and primates (including humans) are certainly included in this category.

Jumping Spiders

I often encounter jumping spiders on our back deck and enjoy watching them.  Identified by their small size, fuzzy appearance and prominent frontal eyes (they have 3 smaller pair as well), these "cute" arachnids stalk a variety of insects, some much larger than themselves.

Unlike many of their cousins, jumping spiders do not construct webs to snare prey; however, they may venture onto the webs of other spiders to snatch insects caught in the silk.  More often, these small predators hunt from a perch; from there they pounce on their prey or stalk victims before striking.  Venom is used to immobilize larger prey but generally causes only mild, local irritation in humans.  A hydraulic-like vascular system allows these spiders to jump up to 50 times their body length; when doing so, they usually release a "life-line" of silk to permit a quick retreat should they miss their quarry.  Silk is also used by females to encapsulate their eggs (which are attached to vegetation, rocks or human structures) and by both sexes to mark their den site.

More than 5000 species of jumping spider are found across the globe; while most live in tropical regions, about 300 species inhabit North America and some species are found high in mountainous ecosystems.  Though most species are diurnal carnivores, some feed on nectar as well.

Whale on the Sidewalk

Walking through campus this morning, I came across a dead cicada, lying on its back in the middle of the sidewalk.  For some reason, it reminded me of a dead whale, having settled on the floor of the sea.

Completing my usual loop, I passed the same location and my initial image was reinforced.  A colony of ants was swarming the dead cicada, just as hagfish congregate on the carcasses of dead cetaceans.  In both cases, the nutritious tissues are soon devoured or, in the case of ants, carted back to the colony's den for social consumption.  Slower degradation of bone and chitin will be left to bacteria, natural erosion and the work of more sluggish invertebrates.

While this incident (and my reaction to it) may seem rather trite, nature is replete with scenarios that mimic one another.  After all, the web of life in all ecosystems requires the participation of predators, primary consumers, producers, scavengers and recyclers.  If we care to look, we can observe each process in that cycle, whether we are strolling through our neighborhood or exploring the ocean floor.

Armadillos in Central Missouri

In my post The Armadillo Army, in 2012, I reported that nine-banded armadillos, native to Central America, had spread into southern Missouri and southern Kansas and were expanding northward across the Coastal Plain toward the mid Atlantic region.  While isolated sightings in mid Missouri have been reported since 2010, the armadillo population has increased significantly in recent years.

Over the past month, I have seen two dead armadillos along Interstate 70 (east and west of Columbia) and four others on roads within the city.  Mid summer is breeding season for nine-banded armadillos and this fact, combined with their nocturnal wanderings, may explain the recent spike in roadkills.

Not equipped to survive long periods of cold weather, armadillos along the I-70 corridor are surely pushing the northern limit of their range; indeed, we have had severe winter weather in recent years.  On the other hand, their continued northward expansion may be yet more evidence of our warming climate.  Perhaps another century of warming will take them into southern Canada!

Migration Season at Eagle Bluffs

Though summer heat still envelops Central Missouri, there are signs of a seasonal shift at Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area.  On my visit to the floodplain yesterday, summer songbirds were still evident in the woodlands and the greenery, though fading, was not yet tinged by the hues of autumn.  Across the northern half of the preserve, little change was evident and wildlife was rather sparse; turkey vultures soared above the grasslands, a few great blue herons stalked the shallows and a lone bald eagle perched atop a wood duck box.

However, near the southern tip of the refuge, meandering pools and channels, flanked by mudflats, had attracted large flocks of great egrets and migrant shorebirds, soon to depart for southern climes; green herons fished along the shorelines and a small group of double-crested cormorants lounged on a sandbar.  Joining these migrants and summer residents were numerous killdeer, a large number of great blue herons, Canada geese, a few wood duck families, small flocks of mallards and a pair of belted kingfishers.

This seasonal shift will intensify in the coming weeks as flocks of blue-winged teal arrive on the floodplain, joined by an increasing number of cormorants and American white pelicans.  Coot, duck and grebe migrations will build through October and, as autumn chill deepens in November, the spectacle of migrant snow geese will grace the Missouri Valley.

Morning Moon

As I walked through campus this morning, a full moon gleamed above the western horizon.  Its cream-colored disc, reflecting the glow of sunrise, was the only defect in a pale blue sky.

Unchanged for billions of years, our lone satellite lit midnight beaches as the first terrestrial creatures scrambled ashore and glowed behind smoky darkness after a massive asteroid ended the reign of dinosaurs.  So too has it witnessed the evolution of our species, passively illuminating both the achievements and the atrocities that have marked our history.

We humans, focused on the routine of our daily lives, associate the moon with darkness, taking little notice when it traverses a sunlit sky.  But its steady presence is vital to our existence, stabilizing the Earth's axis and dousing the shores with nourishing tides.  Inspiring song and poetry since the dawn of man, the moon's tranquility belies its violent birth and bleak landscape but stirs the soul of all who gaze on its celestial beauty.

The Freedom of Naturalism

Naturalists, myself included, believe that humans are part of nature, no more important than other species and, compared to some like fungi and photosynthetic plants, far less vital to the health of natural ecosystems.

Unfortunately, our large brains have convinced most humans that we are superior to other life forms, created in the image of a deity and immune to the predator-prey relationships that govern the lives of plants and other animals; indeed, many religious individuals are loath to classify humans as animals and strongly oppose the "theory" that we evolved from other primates.  Our numerous similarities to other mammals, including anatomic, biochemical and behavioral traits, are overshadowed by the intelligence and imagination that our large brains afford.

Of course, those who believe that humans are unique among life forms, endowed with spirituality and intimately tied to their divine creator, must live with the guilt and fear that stem from that belief.  Naturalists, accepting the fact that morality, unrelated to religious doctrine, is ingrained through evolution to enhance social cooperation and survival, are free to live without the threats imposed by a vindictive and manipulative deity.  We cherish our time on Earth, knowing that death will come but soaking in the heavenly rewards of life while we can.

Assisting Nature

As a volunteer at a local nature preserve, I generally participate in songbird or waterfowl counts; on occasion, I have assisted with garden maintenance, trail work or habitat restoration.  Yesterday, I agreed to take part in the collection of wildflower seeds that will be used in improve floral diversity in other areas of the preserve.

While I have no major objection to such projects, I am inclined to let nature control and mold her ecosystems.  As self-appointed stewards of the natural environment, we should focus on protecting wild areas, eliminating pollution and minimizing the impact of human "development" and activity.  The more we interfere with natural ecosystems the more we are likely to upset their balance and threaten their welfare.

Even the reintroduction of native plants and animals can have an adverse impact unless all other components of that ecosystem are in place and adequately represented.  For example, the release of native prey species (e.g. elk, moose) without reintroducing their natural predators (e.g. wolves) can lead to the destruction of habitat (due to overgrazing, tree damage, etc.).  The less we play this management game the better; in the end, if we protect natural ecosystems and otherwise leave them alone, the native inhabitants (plant and animal) will return.  

Headwaters of the Colorado

About 28 miles west of Metro Denver, U.S. 40 cuts northward from Interstate 70, climbing to Berthoud Pass on the Continental Divide.  North of that pass, the highway descends into the valley of the Fraser River, a tributary of the Upper Colorado; the rivers merge in Granby, where the Colorado River flows in from the east and continues on to the west.

From Granby, eastbound U.S. 34 leads eastward and then northward through the Upper Colorado Valley, passing a scenic trio of lakes (Lake Granby, Shadow Mountain Lake and Grand Lake), all backed by the high peaks of the Front Range; the Colorado actually flows through Shadow Mountain Lake and Lake Granby.  North of Grand Lake, U.S. 34 enters Rocky Mountain National Park and gradually climbs through the Kawuneeche Valley, the path of the Colorado's uppermost segment; tributaries from the Front Range (to the east) and the Never Summer Range (to the west) feed the main channel.  The Colorado River Trail, which leads to the river's headwaters on the Continental Divide, is accessed from a trailhead lot off Trail Ridge Road (U.S. 34), just before the latter begins its climb to the alpine tundra.

Visiting the Kawuneeche Valley today, I hiked part of the Colorado River Trail and took a few side trails that lead down to the stream or into the valley meadows.  By late summer, the Upper Colorado is but a small creek and it's difficult to associate this gentle, meandering stream with the river's raging torrent far to the southwest.  Of course, many large tributaries merge with the Colorado along its course and the river carved its spectacular canyons primarily during the Pleistocene, a time when a cool, wet climate enveloped North America and when mountain glaciers filled the Kawuneeche Valley.

Denver from Above

My son, intent on getting his pilot's license, invited me along for his first lesson today.  Taking off from Centennial Airport, we curved to the southeast and then followed Cherry Creek NNW to downtown Denver.  From there we headed west to Golden, crossing Sloan's Lake and the Clear Creek Valley en route.

Flying southward above the edge of the foothills, we enjoyed fine views of South Table Mountain, Lookout Mountain, Red Rocks Park, Green Mountain and Bear Creek Reservoir.  At my urging, we angled ESE to pass above our Littleton farm; the lakes of South Platte Park shimmered to the south, backed by the large swath of Chatfield Reservoir and its State Park.  Continuing eastward above C-470, we made a final loop to the south before landing at Centennial.

Long a fan of air travel, which provides a unique perspective of Earth's varied landscapes, it is especially interesting in one's home territory, where the geography of our daily life unfolds below.  Though partially diminished by the smoke of distant wildfires, today's aerial survey was a fabulous experience.  My thanks to Zach for the invitation!

More Lessers

Lesser goldfinches are summer residents along the Colorado Front Range, usually arriving in late April and departing by early October; those that summer in Colorado winter in the Desert Southwest, South Texas or Central America.

While they favor foothill canyons and shrublands, lesser goldfinches often visit our Littleton farm during the warmer months and have nested here on occasion.  However, it is in late summer that they are most numerous, usually appearing in large flocks and hanging around for several weeks.  Their breeding season has now ended and the small, vocal finches are feasting on the seeds of sunflowers, thistle and other grassland wildflowers before their fall migration.

The smallest finches in North America, lesser goldfinches are represented by several subspecies.  Males along the Front Range have black crowns and backs while those further west have black foreheads and green backs.  In all regions, it is their distinctive, high-pitched call (often delivered in flight) that usually brings them to our attention.