At this time of year the birds are not singing but you often hear a “chip” note in the woods. It’s not the sound of a bird but instead a chipmunk, making the noise that puts “chip” in his name.
“Chip” is warning sound that means Danger From the Ground. Chip Chip Chip Chip, the speaker is warning of a ground-based predator — a cat, raccoon, snake, etc.
Chipmunks “chip” at different speeds, even during the same chipping session, as seen in the 4.5 minute video below. The tonal quality and variable speed give us a hint that it’s a chipmunk speaking, not a bird.
The second most common chipmunk sound is another warning.
“Tock” means Danger From The Air — a clue that birders should look for a raptor. Tock Tock Tock Tock. Listen and learn in this vintage article.
A 6 September 2022 press release announced explosive news for the state of Maine: Lobster should be off the menu to save right whales.
Today the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch program added more than a dozen fisheries, including the U.S. American lobster fishery, to its “Red List” of seafood because they currently pose risks to the survival of critically endangered North Atlantic right whales. Seafood Watch provides recommendations for seafood buyers based on sustainability criteria. … [Currently] more than 25,000 restaurants, stores, and distributors — including Whole Foods, Blue Apron, HelloFresh, Cheesecake Factory, Compass Group, and ARAMARK — have committed to using Seafood Watch ratings to guide purchasing and menu choices and to avoid red-listed seafood.
Mainers reacted angrily. Sadly this clash could have been avoided but instead it unfolded like a slow motion train wreck for at least 20 years. Here’s how we got to this point.
Since at least 2001 NOAA Fisheries, which sets rules to protect fisheries and marine wildlife, has known that the second leading human cause of right whale deaths is from entanglement in vertical-hanging fishing gear including gillnets and the ropes of fish and lobster traps.
Whenever possible rescuers from the Coast Guard and Florida Fish and Wildlife sail out to cut the lines from entangled right whales (photos at top in 2014 and below in 2004) but a portion of rope usually remains with the whale because it’s embedded in a wound.
I hope the impasse ends soon, though it doesn’t affect me personally. My husband is a Fish Frowner — no “fishy” smells at home — so I’ve rarely eaten seafood for 40+ years and, given the choice, I prefer shrimp to lobster. So glad the shrimp red list got solved.
(photos from Wikimedia Commons and via Flickr Creative Commons licensing; click on the captions to see the originals)
Morela and Ecco greet at their nest, Cathedral of Learning, 27 Aug 2022 (photo from the National Aviary snapshot camera)
13 September 2022
Peregrine falcons molt to replace all their feathers once a year, but it takes a long time. They can never be flightless, as Canada geese are during their own molt, nor can they lose too many flight feathers simultaneously. Consequently they molt the same tail and wing feather on each side, waiting until the pair is mostly grown in before the next pair drops.
In the top photo the pair greets each other at the nestbox but mostly they take turns preening on the green perch. In the slideshow Ecco first, then Morela, fusses with flight and body feathers. When Morela shakes three fluffy white feathers fly.
Ecco preens, 11 Sep 2022
Ecco shows 4 tail feathers growing in
Ecco lands on the nestbox roof
Morela preens, 12 Sept
Poof! 3 fluffy white feathers fly
2 wing feathers growing in
4 tail feathers growing in
Here are a few ways you can see their molt in progress:
A large wing feather lies discarded on the gravel on 27 August.
Molted wing feather on the gravel, 27 August 2022
As Ecco stretches you can see tail feathers partially grown in and a small gap in the smoothness of his wing. (The white tips on his new tail feathers don’t line up at the end of this tail.)
As Morela preens downy feathers stick to her head. When she shakes, three fluffy white feathers fly off.
Note the molting in progress on Morela’s wings and tail.
Will Ecco and Morela visit the nestbox as often when they have completely finished molting? Maybe not … until January.
When baby spiders (spiderlings) disperse and when lightweight species really want to go places they wait for a light wind and electrically charged air. When conditions are right they stand on a high exposed spot on extended legs, tip up their back ends, and eject several gossamer threads from their spinnerets.
The silk automatically forms a lightweight triangular shaped parachute and, because its electrical charge matches the ground and is opposite to the air, it’s repelled from below and pulled into the sky. The gossamer parachute rises up and away and drags the spider with it. And he’s off! Flying backwards thanks to static electricity.
This action, called ballooning, can carry an individual spider at least 1,000 miles on a light wind and two to three miles above the earth (10,500-16,000 feet). The spider can stay airborne over open ocean and thus colonize an island.
Not all spiders go ballooning but the species that do, like the trashline orbweaver (Cyclosa turbinata) pictured at top, have quite a wide distribution.
How can you tell that tiny spiders have been flying? When you see lots of spider silk clinging to branches in a light breeze you’ve found the aftermath of a mass ballooning event.
Ever since spotted lanternflies (Lycorma delicatula) made their disgusting appearance this July in Pittsburgh we’ve been crushing and smashing them, but it’s clear that we humans can barely make a dent in the population. Most of the bugs fly way above our heads and land high in the trees. We can’t reach them but someone else can.
Spotted lanternflies are completely new to North America’s native species, but the bugs look like food so Nature is stepping in to eat them. Predation results are far more successful than our smashing.
Who eats spotted lanternflies? You can see their photos in the Creative Commons licensed iNaturalist group: Spotted Lanternfly Predation in the U.S. Most entries are from New York City, New Jersey and Philadelphia. (Hey, Pittsburgh, post yours too!) Here are just a few examples.
Below, a great crested flycatcher eats a spotted lanternfly in Central Park, NYC. This photo was also tweeted by its author Hector Cordero (@CorderoNature).
(photos from Wikimedia Commons and iNaturalist; click on the captions to see the originals)
18 Sep 2022, this post has attracted many new readers & commenters and has prompted this NOTE TO COMMENTERS –> Comments on this blog are moderated. If you post a comment that is profane or could inflame others, I will edit it or delete it.
Biennial gaura (Gaura biennis) and honeysuckle vine were both blooming in pink. Interestingly, gaura flowers bloom white and fade to pink, while this non-native honeysuckle starts pink and fades to white and then yellow.
Don’t be fooled by the camera’s perspective. Gaura flowers are very small compared to honeysuckle.
Non-native honeysuckle vine, Hays Woods, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
A Virginian tiger moth (Spilosoma virginica or yellow woolly bear) hung out on mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris), a very common and invasive plant at Hays Woods.
Virginian tiger moth, Hays Woods, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Another invasive, Japanese knotweed (Reynoutria japonica), blooms profusely at Hays Woods. Many insect pollinators love the flowers.
Japanese knotweed in bloom, 3 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
These are all lenticular clouds which form when the wind blows horizontally toward a fixed object that forces the air to rise and fall in a wave. If the fixed object is a mountain and the air is moist it forms a cloud on top of the mountain. The cloud stays right there, thumb-tacked to the sky, as shown in this time lapse from Mount Teide in the Canary Islands.
Mesmerizing timelapse of a lenticular cloud hovering over Mount Teide in the Canary Islands as day turns to night, captured by photographer Bartosz Wojczy?ski.pic.twitter.com/1eLRYGWWsu
— Wonder of Science (@wonderofscience) July 20, 2022
(photos from Wikimedia Commons; click on the captions to see the originals)
Red-eyed vireo, held by bander Nick Liadis, 31 Aug 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
8 September 2022
Yesterday Charity Kheshgi and I visited Nick Liadis’ bird banding project — Birdlab — at Hays Woods, the City of Pittsburgh’s newest, most remote, and least developed park.
Nick runs Birdlab at three sites: Hays Woods plus at two private properties, Upper St. Clair and Twin Stupas in Butler County. During migration Nick is out banding six days a week unless it’s raining or windy.
Hays Woods is unique for its size and habitat so close to densely populated Downtown and Oakland. Like an oasis it’s an appealing stop for migratory birds. We were there to see Nick band five birds on a slow day compared to the day before when he banded 60!
Hays Woods, The Forest in the City (image courtesy Friends of Hays Woods)
Oakland is visible from the Hays Woods powerline cut.
Oakland in the distance, view from Hays Woods, 31 Aug 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Nick has placed the mist nets in a variety of habitats. They are intentionally hard to see. When birds see the nets they avoid them.
Bird banding mist net at Hays Woods, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Every 30 minutes the banders walk the nets to check for birds. Lisa Kaufman assists at Hays Woods on Wednesdays. Here she is walking the powerline cut.
Walking to check the nets, 31 Aug 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Each netted bird is gently placed in its own cloth bag and brought back to the banding table. Here Nick tells Lisa what time to record.
Nick Liadis and Lisa Kaufman, bird banding at Hays Woods, 7 Sept 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
It’s an ovenbird.
Ovenbird to be banded, held by Nick Liadis, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
To age the birds Nick checks their wings, tail and body feathers for molt stage. Below he points out the very faint fault bars on the tail feathers that indicate feather growth. If all the bars line up, then these tail feathers grew in at the same time, which means the bird is still wearing his very first tail feathers and thus hatched this year.
Examine the feathers for molt stage and age, ovenbird at Hays Woods, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Nick blows on the belly of a Nashville warbler to check the lump of fat that is fuel for migration. This Nashville warbler had a high fat score so he may be ready to leave tonight for his wintering grounds in Mexico.
Checking the fat score on a Nashville warbler, Hays Woods, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Charity Kheshgi)
Nashville warblers are one of the smallest birds but it’s not noticeable until they are in the hand. Nick prepares to apply the band.
Applying the band to a Nashville warbler, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Nick holds an ovenbird after banding.
Bander Nick Liadis holds an ovenbird, Hays Woods, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
Each of us got to release a banded warbler.
Kate St. John holds an American restart before releasing it, Hays Woods, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Charity Kheshgi)Charity Kheshgi holds an ovenbird before releasing it, Hays Woods, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
And we learned how much northern cardinals hate to be captured. Cardinals of all ages screech and bite! We were grateful not to hold one.
Female northern cardinal awaits her bands, Hays Woods, 7 Sep 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
To learn more about Nick’s banding project and schedule a visit, see his website at birdlab.org.
In the photo below the Virginia opossum’s (Didelphis virginiana) opposable back thumb grasps the branch: four toes on one side of the branch, one toe on the other.
And before we adjourn, let’s lay a misconception to rest.
Squirrels and raccoons do not have opposable thumbs.
I was surprised by this for raccoons (Procyon lotor) because their paws are so dexterous. However none of the raccoons’ paws has a toe with a separate hinge. Their paws are flat.
During fall migration bird numbers are at their highest as the adult population is joined by their recent young. I look forward to the variety of fall warblers and large flocks of chimney swifts, but this year — again — there are fewer migrants than I remember. My mood is dampened by solastalgia for birds.
Solastalgia is a new concept developed to give greater meaning and clarity to environmentally induced distress. As opposed to nostalgia–the melancholia or homesickness experienced by individuals when separated from a loved home–solastalgia is the distress that is produced by environmental change impacting on people while they are directly connected to their home environment.
Fourteen years ago I noticed a decline in common nighthawks (Chordeiles minor) that used to migrate in flocks of 10-20 over my old neighborhood during the 20th century. In 2008 their numbers dropped precipitously. Nowadays I am lucky to see a single bird.
Common nighthawk (photo by Chuck Tague obtained in 2015)
Chimney swifts (Chaetura pelagica) were my consolation but now they prompt solastalgia. Two years ago I counted more than 2,200 swifts roosting at Cathedral Mansions chimney during fall migration, but just last year their numbers declined sharply. My highest count in 2021 was only 100. Fifty is my highest count so far this year.
Chimney swift trio (photo by Jeff Davis obtained in 2013)
Despite the sense of loss it is still good to be outdoors, it is still lovely to look at birds, and it is healthy to let go of the past and gracefully embrace the present.
For more information on bird decline and some good vibes for the future see 3billionbirds.org.
