Return of the Pond

We accumulated three inches of rain last week. That was enough to raise the well level by three feet and produce a small pool in the pond. Birds have swarmed in to use this water source for drinking and bathing.

The water is only a few inches deep, but that’s enough to transform the area from a terrestrial to an aquatic habitat. According to the long range weather forecast, we’re in for a few months of wet weather. If that occurs, developing aquatic life should enjoy another seven or eight months of open water.

It takes a while for the pond bottom to regain the appearance of a true submerged environment. Cracks that developed with the final disappearance of water a few months ago are still visible. Aquatic life will soon abound and the multitude of bottom dwelling organisms will sift through the mud until it once again becomes smooth.

Ruby Meadowhawks are the first to take advantage of the newly restored pool

Reproduction is their principle reason for coming to the shallow water. Several pairs cruised the water’s edge in search of suitable places to deposit eggs.

This species often flies in tandem while laying eggs. The male uses a special feature near the end of his abdomen to grasp the female just behind the head. He then leads the female to selected egg laying sites and directs her egg laying activities. This process also helps to protect his mate from potential rival males.

The pair will hover above the water and make occasional dips downward in order to release eggs. The eggs may be released directly over the water or they may be dropped in low lying areas that have the potential of being inundated in the future. When the population of little aquatic animals begins to blossom, the dragonfly larvae will be there to eat their fair share.

First Official Frost

I went outside yesterday morning to find a good coating of frost covering the landscape. A little touch of ice adds a bit of beauty to just about everything, except roads and electric lines.

This is actually the second frost we’ve had at Blue Jay Barrens this fall. The first occurred on October 2 and put a nice coating of ice across the lawn. It just didn’t meet my criteria for a legitimate first frost, because it failed to kill even one leaf on my unprotected tomato plants. This is what yesterday’s frost did and that gains it the distinction of being the first official frost of Fall 2011.

Most of the goldenrods were already on their way to turning brown. This frost put an end to any that were trying to hold on to a bit of yellow.

The frost disappeared quickly when touched by the rising sun. The stand of Indian Grass gave little shivers as the ice turned to water and dripped from the seed heads. I also gave an occasional little shiver. I rushed outside to get some frost shots before everything melted away and didn’t bother to change into more substantial footwear. My old tennis shoes are so worn that they are more like house slippers and they definitely don’t protect your feet from the chill of frosty grass.

The melting frost turned quickly to fog. It only took a couple of minutes to reduce unlimited visibility down to about 100 feet. I’m glad I wasn’t trying to land a plane here.

No ants moving this morning. I’m sure activity on the mound will resume as soon as the sun gets a little higher in the sky.

Frost didn’t stop the sparrows from feeding on Indian Grass Seeds. These Field Sparrows took to the Dogwoods as I walked by, but they quickly returned to the grass upon my departure.

Buck, Doe and This Year's Fawns

Late October through November is the peak breeding season for Whitetail Deer and gray, drizzly days are ideal for viewing bucks in pursuit of receptive does. I should say that this type of day is ideal only in the sense that the normally shy bucks are much more likely to come out in the open on a gloomy day. Unfortunately, the low light conditions are not the best for capturing clear images of the deer. When I saw this guy wandering past the window, I knew instantly what he was after.

He’s so focused on a nearby doe that he doesn’t even notice me at the window.

Their rendezvous occurs in the White Pine windbreak.

The fawns are content to feed on white clover in the lawn. Their spots have disappeared, but they still have the youthful appearance of fawns.

A commotion in the pine trees causes them to lose interest in the clover. They seem torn between a need to run and a desire to seek the safety of their mother.

The doe finally leaves the pines and enters the yard to feed. The buck has left some disheveled hair as evidence of their encounter. The doe’s leg has been unusable for months and I doubt that conditions will improve. She does a fair job of getting around and is obviously still desirable to the gentlemen, but she’s beginning to display a gaunt appearance. I don’t expect her to make it through the winter. It would be truly amazing to see her back next spring with another set of twins.

One fawn, still at alert from scary happenings in the pine trees, runs to Mama for comfort.

This seems a good time for one of those facts of life discussions.

A Camera Critters submission.

Lavender Aster

Fall is a time of asters. Most are tolerant of a few frosts, so it’s not uncommon for them to dominate the October fields. Some species are so easy to identify that they shout their names from across the field. Others maddingly share common characteristics that sometimes make them almost impossible to sort.

Blue Jay Barrens has a lavender colored aster that thrives in the dry prairie openings. I visited this particular plant several times when I first began teaching myself plant identification. Each visit left me frustrated. It seemed that I could run the plant through the keys six different times and come up with 6 different answers. This cluster of species all showed a wide variation in characters and those variations broadly overlapped across multiple species. I got so I would hurry past these plants just so I wasn’t tempted to waste more time on fruitless identification efforts.

Two things happened to improve the situation. One – I began to learn plant identification techniques and terminology. Two – Improved identification texts became available. My frustration level decreased as I was able to identify more plant species. That doesn’t mean I’m not still baffled by some descriptions of plant parts. The green shape shown here at the tip of the phyllary is one that I’m still not comfortable with. In some species it’s referred to as a diamond shape and in other species it’s referred to as rhombic in shape. If you check the definition of rhombic, you find that it means diamond shaped. So how does this help in sorting out the species?

One thing I learned early on was the fact that you seldom identify a plant on the basis of a single characteristic. Someone took the time to create a short paragraph describing the various features of a particular species, so it pays to check all of the features, including habitat requirements, before coming to a final conclusion. When I saw this aster for the first time, I remember thinking that these leaves alone should be all I needed to tack a name to the plant. A thick, rough leaf with a winged petiole couldn’t be a common occurrence. What I didn’t pay attention to was the fact that the leaves growing from the lower part of the stem were heart shaped and did not have a winged petiole. Now, that’s something I should have paid attention to.

Then there’s the stem itself. I was so fixated on what I thought had to be the key characteristic that I overlooked other vital clues. Plant identification is like solving a mystery. You have to keep adding pieces to the puzzle until the picture becomes clear. In this case the hairy stem helped to separate this aster from others with winged petioles.

Finally we have a third type of leaf growing from the upper portion of the stem. The clues eventually lead to Aster undulatus, an aster that typically grows in dry soil of open woods and clearings. One last source of aggravation is the frequency with which plant names seem to change. The genus name Aster is no longer used for this plant that took me so long to identify. I guess you have the choice of learning the new names, or doing what I’ve done and stop buying any more new botany texts.

Weird Plant

When I first encounter something strange, my mind needs less than a second to flash through a multitude of exotic explanations for what I’ve found. This odd mass of plant material was no exception. I guess there’s a part of my mind that still clings to my childhood admiration of early explorers making unimaginable discoveries and science fiction movie scientists who were always called upon to deal with local manifestations of strange phenomenon.

It was impossible to miss this bare spot in the middle of so much tall grass. I always enjoy finding something different. Difference indicates diversity, which is something I strive for in my management efforts. After it’s found, there is the work of discovering whether the difference is good or bad.

The most noticeable feature is the mass of thick, fleshy roots that are now exposed and drying. Roots like that should be capable of holding enough moisture to get any plant through the super dry conditions of a hillside prairie.

A topside view shows rhizomes radiating out from a central point. I suppose at some point in the past there was a single plant that began life in that center area. Now the whole thing reminds me of some monster starfish with one foot arms. Or those could be the ensnaring arms of some man-eating plant that died while waiting for someone to step on that central trigger.

Along the rhizome are alternating rows of leaf clusters that surrounded the bases of branches that towered several feet into the air. The actual leaves were reduced to mere scales that probably never saw daylight. The plant depended on the photosynthetic abilities of the green stalks to produce the needed energy for the plant.

A few small branches were evident near the end of one rhizome. The branches were much reduced in size from what would have been found when the plant was at its prime.

The very last branch represented the final spark in the long life of this Wild Asparagus plant. How did I rate the diversity represented by this plant? Well, Asparagus is a non-native plant that doesn’t fit into my management plans for Blue Jay Barrens, so the fact that it’s here has to count as a negative. The fact that it’s dieing and will soon be gone has to count as a positive. During its life, the Asparagus crowded out the native plant population, so we have another negative. The resulting bare patch is now being colonized by several species of new plants which could be good or bad depending on the species. I’ll just have to wait and see what future years bring. Based on the enjoyment I had in finding this old Asparagus, I think I’ll have to nudge my score of the total experience over to the positive side.

Eggs

This may look like another puffball fungus, but it’s not. It’s actually the empty shell of a Black Rat Snake egg. I seem to see more of these every year.

If it weren’t for predators digging out the eggs, I would never find any of these nests.

There were eight egg shells left at the scene. Normally there are more than this. It’s possible that some were carried away for consumption elsewhere or this could be the clutch of a young snake.

It looked like the eggs had hatched normally, so I’m hoping some of the young snakes got away. It seems to be at hatching time that the eggs and young are most vulnerable. I suppose it would be easy for an alert predator to detect the aroma of emerging hatchlings.

Snake eggs can be very similar in appearance to some turtle eggs. The best way to determine egg type is to examine the hole in which they were laid. Turtles excavate a new chamber for the clutch of eggs, so the hole would end in a wider chamber without any other exit. Snakes lay their eggs inside existing animal burrows, such as those from chipmunks or moles. When I investigated this hole, I found a tunnel leading away in opposite directions. I fed in a long grass stem and it finally emerged at the entrance to the burrow, marked here by my knife.

I suppose the snake would go ahead and eat any small animals it happened to find in the burrow. This would help to protect the eggs from any rodent damage.

As though it had been left as a territorial marker, I found a wad of shed snake skin beside the entrance to the burrow. My hope is that one day I’ll be the one to find a clutch of snake eggs just as they are hatching.

Indian Grass Seed

I’ve been monitoring the progress of Indian Grass seed development in hopes of harvesting some for a neighbor to use in a prairie creation project. There’s no shortage of seed being produced this year, but the seed is not ripening uniformly across the field. Different areas of the field flowered in a succession that lasted nearly four weeks. As a result, there are patches of ripe seed mixed with the still developing seed.

Normally, I would just wait for all of the seed in the field to ripen before trying to harvest. Heavy winds over the weekend sent lovely waves rippling through the tall grass, but also threatened to dislodge the ripe seed from the seed heads as it whipped the grass stalks. I was forced to identify patches of ripe seed and battle the winds to claim the seed before it was knocked from the stalk.

The florets are what you harvest. Inside the florets are the seeds. I’ve exposed a couple of the seeds. It’s not necessary to separate the seed from the floret before planting. I was just exposing the seed so I could identify the areas that were ready for harvest. The fact that I remembered the sequence of flower production helped in my quest for ripe seed.

In one area I found larvae where the seed should have been. I found three within ten feet of each other, but didn’t find them anywhere else in the field.

I ended up collecting plenty of seed. The wonderful growing conditions produced some eight foot tall grass plants. That height, along with the 25 mph winds, made seed collection an adventure. I finished with seed in my mouth, nose, eyes, ears and inside every bit of clothing I had on. I don’t think there’s anyplace in the house where you can’t spot at least one Indian Grass seed. I hope the result is the creation of a beautiful prairie.