Mayslake Savanna Autumn

December 2, 2009 at 6:58 am (botany, mammals, restoration)
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by Carl Strang

I have enjoyed watching Autumn’s transition in the savannas at Mayslake Forest Preserve. Early in the season I found an aster growing, and blooming, in an unlikely spot: a crevice a few feet off the ground between forks of a bur oak.

Here it is close up.

Squirrels continued to take advantage of the oaks’ mast year. Here is the synchronized eating team.

Colors peaked, then faded. The sumacs provided a final burst.

Meanwhile, assisted by other volunteers, stewards Conrad Fialkowski and Jacqui Gleason continued removing buckthorn bushes from the edges of the savanna. They augmented the brush piles by piling on leaves.

 They had raked the leaves to clear space for spreading bottlebrush grass seeds.

That grass is their workhorse for initially reclaiming restored ground in open woodlands.

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Happy Thanksgiving!

November 25, 2009 at 6:47 am (Uncategorized)

by Carl Strang

All best wishes for you and yours on this holiday.

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First Candle on the Cake

November 11, 2009 at 7:33 am (Uncategorized)

by Carl Strang

One year ago today I started this blog. In it I have shared my own natural history explorations in northeast Illinois, with occasional excursions elsewhere. The idea is to look at the wild world from a viewpoint of inquiry, asking questions and seeking answers that enrich my understanding of the outdoor places I frequent. I hope that readers are encouraged to do the same. Even in the suburbs of one of the world’s great cities, there is a lot to discover and investigate.

Through the year I am building the ongoing story of a particular place, Mayslake Forest Preserve, where I work. Lunch-break walks and shorter excursions at other times allow me to gather data and to discover new puzzles. Otherwise, my studies change seasonally. In winter at present I am focusing on the behavior and geography of Canada geese. I am just finishing the season for singing insects, which get the biggest share of my attention in summer and fall. Other studies include dragonflies and damselflies, bumblebees, plant-eating insects, garlic mustard removal methods, and a long list of other shorter-term investigations (glacial geology, mixed flocks of migrant birds, archeology of human impacts on places, the Culver seedling, etc.).

Last winter, as I set the background for these various investigations and shared my initial discoveries at Mayslake, the blog was easy to fill, and this in fact is posting number 277. I will continue to bring out the ongoing Mayslake story through the coming winter, along with new information from the goose study, and I have summaries of a few of this year’s investigations to report. Nevertheless, there will be space opening up that I will want to fill. Some of that will come from my dossiers of vertebrate species, perhaps one per week or so. But there is another direction I want to add for this winter, and it will represent a bit of a departure from what I have posted here to date.

Scientific inquiry has provided the framework for this blog. In the news I hear so many examples of how science is misunderstood, even mistrusted. Often the mistrust arises from conflicts some people perceive between science and religion. Religious views have been cited as the basis for terrorist violence, rejection of science by creationists and, when scientists try to treat science as a religion, rejection of spiritual traditions by some scientists. Science is misunderstood, but so, I think, is religion. We forget that spirituality, like science, is founded on inquiry. I am not referring to scientific inquiry, here, but rather on inquiry that uses other methodologies. So, what I propose to do this winter, in a series of about 25 weekly posts, is present some thoughts on the foundations of scientific inquiry and spiritual inquiry, and what my own experiences in these areas have led me to conclude. I realize that some readers won’t be interested in this at all, and I will create a standard format for those posts that will make them easy to recognize and avoid by those who wish to do so.

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Canada Goose Study Resumes

October 20, 2009 at 6:21 am (Uncategorized)
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by Carl Strang

Last year I began a study of Canada goose winter roosting behavior in the western suburbs of Chicago, focusing on DuPage County. I found a number of roosting sites scattered around the county, open water places where the geese spent the nights. In the mornings the geese in the roosts dispersed, departing in groups of 20 or so, flying out to find food. In this suburban area, grazing on lawns was the primary winter fare. A period of severely cold temperatures froze three of the four largest roosts in January, and the birds departed the area rather than crowding into the remaining roost. By the time the roost areas thawed and the Canada geese returned, the time for territory establishment and migration had arrived for local birds and northern migrants, respectively, and the roosts quickly broke up.

Canada goose pair 3b

In September I noticed familiar winter patterns, with groups of geese flying out from the Blackwell and Hidden Lake roosts as I passed them on the way to work in the mornings. On October 12 I went to the Blackwell roost to make an assessment.

CG Blackwell 12OC 1b

Some geese, like these, already had left the roost by 7:30 a.m. and landed on nearby Silver Lake for preliminary staging. Others went straight to the lawns of Blackwell Forest Preserve and other nearby open areas to feed.

CG Blackwell 12OC 2b

A few hundred such geese had left the roost by then, and 1000 or so remained when I reached it. I found none of the tiny cackling geese, but I did see one distant individual wearing the orange neck collar that identified it as a Hudson Bay region bird. Thus some Canada geese had arrived from the north, but the roost had not reached its 2008-9 peak of 3000 birds. It seems likely that, in addition to a continuing influx of geese from the north, smaller local roosts such as the ones I observed last year are active. If last year’s pattern repeats, those satellites will merge with the larger roosts later as the smaller lakes freeze over.

Driving back home on the 12th, I saw a group of geese landing with others already feeding on the lawn at the edge of Butterfield Road near the Warrenville town center. Among the arrivals was an individual that stood out with much paler wings and back. It proved to have white (or nearly so) body plumage, but head and neck were normal colored.

CG leucistic 1b

I drove to where I could park, and took some photos in the dim light.

CG leucistic 2b

I suspect that this leucistic individual is a bird mentioned last spring by a friend, Anne S., who has observed it for several years. If it is the same goose, it usually feeds in another nearby location I don’t typically frequent.

CG leucistic 3b

I am hopeful that unusual individuals like this one and the neck-collared birds will allow me to track the daily movements of Canada geese resident in our area during the winter. My main goal this year, though, will be to see if the patterns I observed last year are repeated.

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Bloody Practical Inquiry

October 14, 2009 at 4:23 am (Uncategorized)
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by Carl Strang

Today’s account has a lot of blood in it, which perhaps makes it suitable for Halloween month, but if you are squeamish you may want to skip this one. A little over a week ago I was returning home from my bike ride workout. My curb was coated with layers of wet leaves, and I hit it at too shallow an angle. Down I went, painfully striking the inside of my right ankle. I got up, and as I limped to the house walking my bike I thought that I should have been more careful, but here was a lesson learned.

I unlocked the front door, brought the bike inside, but when I bent down to untie my shoes I found squirts of blood decorating my tile entry platform. That was not a happy moment. I got the shoe and sock off, and found that a stick, pebble, or perhaps something on the bike had struck the knobby lower end of my tibia, punching a hole that opened a small vein just under the skin. Blood poured down the ankle, but fortunately I remembered my basic first aid and did the Dutch boy thing, applying pressure with a fingertip. Here’s the hole a few days later.

Ankle 1b

I had stopped the bleeding for the moment, but now what? My right foot was covered in blood, I had nothing to wipe it off with, and I still was holding the bike up with one hand while the other was occupied with dike maintenance. I had the living room carpet to cross before I could reach the bathroom, and I didn’t want blood or bike grease on the rug. And how to get the bleeding stopped permanently? This all made for a high-motivation inquiry. I wiped the blood off the ball of my foot as best I could, hobbled in an awkward bent over position for a couple steps until I could put the bike down, then continued to the bathroom.

I cleaned the foot in the bathtub with a washcloth, amazed (appalled, really) at how the entire bottom of the tub was red with the bloody water. At one point I lifted my finger to take a look, and was surprised to find that the hole had stopped bleeding. When I flexed the ankle the bleeding started again, but a few more minutes’ pressure stopped the flow for good. I slapped a few layers of bandaids over the hole (the first one I grabbed, humorously, was a Tasmanian Devil cartoon bandaid I’d gotten from who knows where), and wrapped the whole with a strip of adhesive tape. There would be no more bleeding.

As I cleaned up the blood, continuing to be amazed at how much there was, I marveled at how quickly the platelets had done their job and plugged the breach. I remembered how, when I give blood, the opening made by the relatively large needle is quickly sealed by applying pressure for a minute with the arm held vertical. Physiology works. Early vertebrates with the capacity to quickly seal their wounds had a selective advantage, bequeathing us this wonderful adaptation.

Later I found the squirts of blood had left a trail all the way from where I first had fallen to the front door.

Ankle 3b

This was a vein, not an artery, so the squirts presumably were caused by muscle contractions in my leg as I walked the bike.

Ankle 2b

I haven’t tried to clean these stains from my sidewalk. In part they will serve as a reminder to be more careful, and perhaps they will add to the Halloween mood when Trick-or-Treaters come to my door for candy in a few weeks.

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Miscellaneous Mayslake Insects

September 3, 2009 at 6:19 am (insects (other))
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by Carl Strang

Some insect photos have been waiting to be featured for a while, and it’s time to bring them out. These species all are from Mayslake Forest Preserve. Earlier in the season, some of the tall goldenrods hosted large numbers of red aphids.

Aphids tall goldenrod b

I am not yet familiar with the varieties of aphids, and so do not have an identification. It’s good to have plenty of interesting possibilities for future learning.

Both of the common species of soldier beetles are abundant at Mayslake. Earlier in the season, marginated soldier beetles frequented the plants with small, clustered, pollen-rich flowers. These beetles are variable in color, some relatively pale,

Marginated soldier beetle 1b

and some much darker.

Marginated soldier beetle 2b

In all of them, however, the dark mark on the pronotum (the shield just behind the head on the insect’s back) runs lengthwise. By now they are done for the season. In late summer and fall their place is taken by their larger congener (member of the same genus), the Pennsylvania soldier beetle. The pronotum mark in this species is oriented side to side.

Pennsylvania soldier beetle b

These pollen-eating insects are fairly active, moving from plant to plant, and can be regarded as pollinators. Until August, tiger beetles had been conspicuous by their absence from Mayslake’s trails. Finally, around the parking lot near the prairie, I found some sidewalk tiger beetles (the picture below is from another preserve).

Cicindela punctulata 2

This species is so broad in the ecological space it can occupy, and in its geographic range, that Beetles in the Bush blogger Ted C. MacRae has proposed  half in jest that it be called the ubiquitous tiger beetle.

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Roots of Inquiry: Roger Raccoon Club

July 6, 2009 at 6:10 am (Uncategorized)
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by Carl Strang

One of the children’s programs I help conduct each year is a camp for 9-12-year-olds called the Roger Raccoon Club. This is one of the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County’s efforts to give suburban kids the opportunity to experience nature through free-form play and exploration. We provide instruction in basic safety, and offer ideas, but then maximize the free time and turn the kids loose. Though inquiry is not part of the curriculum, naturally it comes up. For instance, we teach the safe capture, handling and release of small animals.

RRC09 3b

The children spend an impressive amount of their own time, then, on the hunt.

RRC09 11b

Their explorations may give them experiences of looking into water,

RRC09 22b

immersing themselves in water,

RRC09 14b

and climbing trees.

RRC09 18b

Creative manipulation of plants may produce a necklace

RRC09 12b

or a magic wand.

RRC09 29b

Following a dry streambed to see where it goes can lead to the discovery of a Silurian cephalopod.

RRC09 37b

Fascination with fire led one boy to see what would happen if he scorched leaves.

RRC09 31b

He reported that some smelled, surprisingly, like apple cider, while others didn’t. My only participation in the process was to suggest that odors are chemicals and heat can produce chemical changes. Where any of these experiences will lead is impossible to say, but I believe it is important that all children have them.

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Roots of Inquiry: Class of ‘69

July 5, 2009 at 6:16 am (Uncategorized)
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by Carl Strang

Class reunions are revealing. I graduated in 1969 from Culver Community High School. That school district is so rural that my graduating class had just a few more than 100 people in it, and that was after consolidating 4 entire townships (from 4 counties!). Recently we celebrated our second big reunion. The first, our 20th, I enjoyed, but I remember noting how we fell quickly into old roles, how there was a fair amount of posturing, how emotional wounds still needed healing in many of us. The 40th was different.

69 1b

Clearly we had grown beyond those old influences. We each had survived our own battles, had become comfortable with our selves.

69 3b

Though naturally we conversed mainly with our closest childhood friends, there was an interest in what everyone had done, and I felt a collective sense of pride at how much we as a group had accomplished.

69 4b

What does this have to do with inquiry? So much of who we are is established in our school-age years. We find our first interests, and test them out. Someone remembered me giving a talk on coots, how they are different from ducks and so forth. It turned out that several people remembered my coot talk. I was not one of them.

69 2b

Probably that talk grew out of a period of a few years when I reported to the state conservation department on the numbers of various waterfowl species stopping by Lake Maxinkuckee  during migration. I filled out a postcard form each week and sent it in. That experience taught me a little about making careful observations and recording data, and was so enjoyable that it reinforced my established interest in nature study.

69 5b

The tone of the reunion was of mutual support and congratulations. Again I thank the organizers, and all of you who helped frame my development in those important formative years.

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Goodbye, Old Friend

June 6, 2009 at 11:19 am (Uncategorized)
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by Carl Strang

My friends know that I’m a hopeless nature nerd. If you know me only through this blog, that has been evident enough. But I have my emotional side, and I can get sentimental about what to others might seem to be ridiculous things. The time has come to say goodbye to my old Saturn station wagon, and I’m sad about it. The car made a cameo appearance in the early days of this blog, when I described my pilgrimage  to trace the route of the Lake Michigan lobe of the latest continental glacier.

Watershed sign 2b

That was the last significant adventure the Saturn and I shared. It was not, however, the greatest. That trip would have to be my journey to Newfoundland in 2002. Newfoundland is, of course, an island province. The car made the crossing in the hold of a ferry much like this one.

Newfoundland ferry b

I drove all around Newfoundland. This photo of a caribou calf I took through the car’s window.

Caribou peekaboo b

In that car I went as far south as Mobile, Alabama, and as far west as the southwest corner of Kansas. I drove all around lakes Superior and Huron in 2004, scouting for good kayaking possibilities that set up my crossing of northern Georgian Bay in 2006. Here the car and kayak sit in the Ontario town of Killarney as I feast on the evening before starting that adventure.

04b Car in Killarney

Of course there were innumerable shorter trips. Here is my campsite at Wisconsin’s Wyalusing State Park, where I discovered a new northern range limit for the broad-winged tree cricket.

Wyalusing 4b

But, as my arthritis increasingly reminds me, all things wear out and ultimately must end. That car made it past 190,000 miles and 11 years, but was completely worn out and no longer reliable. I no longer could trust it for longer trips or for carrying my boats. At the end of May it broke down so significantly that I could not justify the cost of repairing it. So now I feel the sadness of saying goodbye to an old friend. Thank you, Saturn, for carrying me all those miles. And thank you, readers, for indulging me in this cathartic posting.

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Correction

March 19, 2009 at 11:06 am (Uncategorized)
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by Carl Strang

 

A few days ago I provided a guide to this blog. In it I said that WordPress runs comments past me, and I have to approve them before they appear. I was mistaken about that, as I found a comment had been published without my being aware of it. The author, my good friend Hal, was the first person to send a second comment. That makes me think that I am approving senders, rather than individual posts. I think I know what to look for, now, so if you send a question I should be able to find it even if WordPress doesn’t specifically inform me of it. But perhaps it is best to assume that anything you send will appear. If you make a mistake and it comes through garbled, I can remove it, so please don’t be discouraged from commenting.

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