Female spicebush with berries, 25 Sept 2017 (photo by Kate St. John)
21 November 2024
In the garden we often grow “perfect” flowers such as roses, lilies and tulips with male and female parts in every flower. However, many woody shrubs and trees have single sex flowers. Some species grow both sexes on the same tree, others have only one sex on an entire plant. And so, some plants are simply female.
Monoecious species have both flower sexes on the same plant. Examples include hickory and pecan trees, cucumbers and pumpkins, cherries, common grape vine and corn (maize).
Dioecious plants produce only male or female flowers on individual plants and only the female plants produce fruit. Examples include gingkos (stinky fruit from female trees!) …
The number of crows in the East End increased recently after they began roosting at Pitt again. On Saturday night I saw hundreds of crows in the trees at Carnegie Library and the Cathedral of Learning so on Monday afternoon I did a walk-about to count “crow trees” that showed evidence of roosting. (A big tree holds 250 crows.)
Crows gathering at dusk in Schenley Park, 21 Jan 2017 (photo by Mike Fialkovich)
My tree count was way too high so on my way home I paused at Fifth and Craig to count the huge flock passing overhead on their way to Pitt. 8,000 to 8,500 crows.
On Tuesday evening I could see crows staging in the trees above Morewood Ave so I counted again. 8,000 crows. … And this is just the East End flock.
The crows may be wondering why I’m counting(*), but crows can count too though not so high. A study of carrion crows (Corvus corone), published in Science last May, showed that this Eurasian equivalent of the American crow can count up to 4 out loud, similar to human toddlers.
Three carrion crows were trained to vocalize with one, two, three, or four caws depending on the number they saw in front of them. They were also taught to tap the screen when they were done counting.
The birds boasted a 100 percent accuracy rate at counting to one, a roughly 60 percent success rate at counting to two and about a 50 percent accuracy rate for three.
Crows particularly “disliked” the number four (40 percent accuracy), sometimes refusing to caw at all when prompted and pecking at the screen to end the trial immediately, [according to] study co-author Diana Liao, an animal physiologist at the University of Tübingen.
Additionally, the crows paused before cawing correctly, showing longer reaction times before producing higher totals of vocalizations. This delay is consistent with mental planning.
The test reminds me of a story Chuck Tague told me many years ago. He and his wife Joan visited a bird blind to see an elusive bird that would not come out if a crow was watching. Unfortunately whenever he and Joan went to the blind a crow would follow them and wait for them to leave.
They decided to fool the crow. Both of them went into the blind but only Chuck came out. Surely the crow would leave and Joan would see that elusive bird. Nope. The crow counted two people going in and only one came out. They changed it up and Joan came out but it made no difference. The crow could certainly count two people.
(*) p.s. I’m counting crows to get in practice for the Pittsburgh Christmas Bird Count on 28 December 2024, the Saturday after Christmas. Last year we counted 15,000!
Those who live at the eastern and western ends of Lake Erie are well aware that a strong west wind can trigger a storm surge in Buffalo and dry lake bottom at Toledo. When the storm is gone it becomes a seiche that makes the lake slosh back and forth like a bathtub. If you’ve never seen it, these videos will help.
Of all the Great Lakes, Lake Erie is the most likely to slosh because it is shallow and oriented along the storm path. The wind has a long distance (fetch) to kick up waves and amplify the effect.
Tomorrow and Thursday a strong cold front will sweep west to east across the region with winds gusting as high as 38mph. Perhaps there will be another seiche.
Duck Hollow on a sunny day in November 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
18 Nov 2024
In the Old Days 20 years ago, freezing weather would sweep across Canada in late October bringing migratory ducks to Pennsylvania in early November. But our climate has warmed and the ducks come later now. As of yesterday, they hadn’t made it to Duck Hollow yet.
This might be the week the ducks arrive. On Thursday the temperature will drop 20°F when a strong low pressure system brings widespread precipitation, strong wind gusts and possibly wet snow north of Pittsburgh. (NWS says of the forecast: “There is still a great deal of uncertainty right now.”)
By Sunday the weather may be good enough to check for ducks. So, weather permitting, join me at Duck Hollow on Sunday 24 November 2024, 8:30am to 10:30am for a bird and nature walk.
Meet at the Duck Hollow parking lot at the end of Old Browns Hill Road. Bundle up for the weather and wear comfortable walking shoes.
I hope we’ll see our one exception to “no ducks yet.” For more than a month a flock of 6-7 common mergansers has been hanging out at Duck Hollow. When they arrived in early October they were all in eclipse plumage but in the past two weeks at least one of them is molting in adult male breeding plumage.
Common mergansers, Duck Hollow, 9 Nov 2024 (photo by Charity Kheshgi)
Looking forward to next Sunday. Fingers crossed about the weather.
Window at Carnegie Museum of Natural History, 9 Nov 2024 (photo by Kate St. John)
17 November 2024
On a sunny day this month I was about to enter the back of Carnegie Museum of Natural History (CMNH) when I saw Venus rising in the sky. Not the planet, this was Venus on her scallop shell floating on translucent white waves in the sky above the Carnegie Museum of Art.
Actually she’s an optical illusion that’s In, On, and Behind the window next to the Portal Entry.
On the Window: The Venus herself is a sticker on the inside of the glass. Her shape alludes to The Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli, painted in 1485 (before Columbus!), in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy.
Behind the Window: Venus appears to be floating on translucent white waves but they are actually the edges of two giant clam shells in the room behind the window, seen faintly because of bright outdoor light (click here to see the clamshells through the window on a cloudy day). This photo gives you an idea of the shape. (This giant clam is not at CMNH.)
In the Window: Venus appears to be rising above the Carnegie Museum of Art but this museum wall is a reflection in the window.
Carnegie Museum of Art, rear view, Nov 2024 (photo by Kate St. John)
Frankly it took me a while to stand in the right place so the three images came together. When I examined the final photo, I decided that the reflected security camera to the right of Venus’ scallop shell was a nice modern touch.
If you’d like to see the Venus for yourself, approach the Portal Entry at the back of the museum (red arrow) on a sunny day. Venus and the clam shells are in the window to the right of the entrance.
Witch hazel, Schenley Park, 15 Nov 2024 (photo by Kate St. John)
16 November 2024
This week I found witch-hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) blooming in Schenley Park and was startled by a whoosh of wings that passed right in front of me below eye level. I was so startled that I screamed even though I knew that …
The whoosh was an immature red-tailed hawk zipping by to catch a mouse near the wall. In stealth mode the hawk did not flap his wings but he flew pretty close to me. If I didn’t like birds I might have been freaked out. He caught the mouse and I took his picture when he settled down.
Immature red-tailed hawk that buzzed past me in Schenley Park, 15 Nov 2024 (photo by Kate St. John)
By now most oaks have lost their leaves so the predominant color in Schenley and Frick is brown. Brown on the ground and lots of bare trees.
Brown fallen leaves, Schenley Park, 15 Nov 2024 (photo by Kate St. John)
In Schenley Park you can easily see through the woods at ground level because the deer have eaten all the thickets.
In Frick Park I spotted an unusual patch of green, probably an alien plant, so I went down there to check it out.
A green patch in the distance at Frick Park. What is it? 12 Nov 2024 (photo by Kate St. John)
Sure enough, this is an alien — stinging nettle (Urtica dioica), native to Eurasia and Africa. Deer eat stinging nettle in spring and summer but are shunning it at this time of year.
A patch of stinging nettle in Frick Park, 12 Nov 2024 (photo by Kate St. John)
By now the only place to find brilliant reds is in the sky.
Sunrise in Pittsburgh, 10 Nov 2024 (photo by Kate St. John)
Budgerigars or budgies, Melopsittacus undulatus) are native to Australia but are so popular as pets that they have been bred in captivity since the 1800s, resulting in colors such as blue not found in the wild.
Part of the budgies’ charm is that they love to mimic human speech. They do it because …
In the wild, flocks of parrots develop distinct local dialects. Research indicates they use these to distinguish familiar members of their flock from unfamiliar birds of other flocks. Birds respond more to vocalizations that are familiar to their own, and they ostracize individuals that vocalize in a different way. Birds raised in captivity might mimic humans, particularly their owners, to gain acceptance as a member of the family (flock). If they hear a word or phrase repeatedly, they might interpret that as a vocalization distinct to their flock. They then attempt to make the vocalization themselves to maintain their membership of that flock. If the parrot gets no response when it squawks a natural parrot vocalization, but receives attention or food when it mimics human speech, it has an extra incentive to repeat human words and phrases.
p.s. Paul Hess writes: I wanted to mention my experience with captive budgies in west-coastal Florida as far back as annual visits with my grandmother during the late 1950s — e.g., One of her cage birds learned my name and greeted me perfectly in subsequent visits a year apart. Bill Pranty, an old friend since his teen years in Pittsburgh and now a prominent ornithologist in FL, urged me to write about this budgie’s extraordinary long-term memory. I never got around to it.
The larger a predator’s wingspan or body length, the fewer “dee” sounds the chickadees used in their alarm call, the study found. The opposite was true for smaller predators –– the songbirds would use more “dee” sounds if they encountered a smaller bird, which could be greater threats to chickadees since they are more agile.
So the chickadees slow down their warning dee’s … like this.
On the other hand, northern saw-whet owls are small and agile, just the right size to capture chickadees. You can see how small they are as I held one at an owl banding in 2016.
TWO northern saw-whet owls, 26 Oct 2016 (photo by Donna Foyle)
By the way, the chickadee warnings in this audio were recorded at State Game Land No 203 in Wexford, PA while the birds were alarming at an Eastern Screech-owl. Screech-owls are another dangerous predator of chickadees.
When you hear chickadees, listen for their warning calls to tell you how big the predator is.
If I could find some frantic chickadees, I might find an owl.
Foliose lichen at Homewood Cemetery, 3 Nov 2024 (photo by Kate St. John)
12 November 2024
Many of us go to Homewood Cemetery to see birds like this merlin in December 2020, but there are many other attractions and some of them are subtle. Did you know the cemetery is a good place to find lichens?
Merlin at Homewood Cemetery, December 2020 (photo by Michelle Kienholz)
Lichens are two organisms that operate as one, a symbiotic partnership of a fungus with a green or blue-green algae, sometimes all three. The algae’s photosynthesis feeds the fungus. The fungus gathers water and nutrients and protects the algae. This combination allows lichens to thrive in some of the harshest places the planet but they are sensitive to air pollution. Those that grow on trees and tombstones are totally dependent on the surrounding air and precipitation for their nutrition. Ultimately their tissues absorb elements in concentrations that mimic what’s in the air.
Since lichens are indicators of air quality, it was natural that GASP (the Group Against Smog Pollution) would hold a lichen walk at Homewood Cemetery on 2 November led by GASP’s Laura Kuster and cemetery historian Jennie Benford.
We didn’t have to walk far to find lichens.
Lauren Kuster points out the lichens on a tombstone, 2 Nov 2024 (photo by Jonathan Nadle)
They look like rumpled leaves stuck to the headstone. The leaves are reaching into the air.
Lichen at Homewood Cemetery, 2 Nov 2024 (photo by Jonathan Nadle)
The lichen’s shape gives an indication of local air quality.
Flat lichens (Crustose) have the least air exposure and can survive in relatively bad air.
Those that look like crumpled leaves (Foliose) can survive in medium air quality — not good but not bad air. We saw a lot of these at Homewood Cemetery.
Shaggy lichens that drip in open bunches (Fruticose) have the highest air exposure and need really good air quality to survive. We did not see any of these at Homewood Cemetery.
Types of lichens with examples from Laura Kuster, 2 Nov 2024 (photo by Jonathan Nadle)
Next time you’re at Homewood Cemetery check out the lichens. When you find the Howard Irish tombstone you’ve hit the jackpot!
Howard Irish tombstone at Homewood Cemetery is coated in lichens, 2 Nov 2024 (photo by Jonathan Nadle)
