Sense of Misplaced

Gro-ing debate about National Wildlife Federation's new partnership

2012-01-25T10:09:00.001-08:00

Full disclosure: I have written articles for Ranger Rick nature magazine for children, a product of the National Wildlife Federation. I have been lucky to work with editors there who are nothing short of saints. I am not anxious to sever that partnership without good cause. Neither am I going to defend a client if I feel their practices do not reflect my own philosophy.

Upon hearing the news that the NWF announced a new partnership with Scotts Miracle Gro, I decided to go straight to the source. I had not communicated with my editor there in some time, so this news gave me a great excuse to do so. Not surprisingly, she was almost as in the dark as those of us outside the organization, but she did track down the following in response to the overwhelming criticism (from NWF CEO Larry Schweiger):

”I appreciate the concern you and others have expressed about NWF’s partnership with Scotts. I’d like to share my perspective with you on how we came to this decision.
National Wildlife Federation has long believed that America works best when we work together. We fail when we divide. We have a 75-year history of collaborating with people and organizations from across the spectrum on the most important issues facing wildlife.
Much of our conservation work focuses on making changes on Capitol Hill, but more and more I believe we must all do what we can to change corporate and individual behavior when it’s incongruent with a healthy, sustainable world. We have carefully considered the pluses and minuses of working with ScottsMiracle Gro in an objective way, knowing that our friends in the organic gardening world have legitimate concerns about the company. I am sure the staff at Scotts had their own set of concerns about National Wildlife Federation.
I looked very carefully at not just where Scotts is at the moment, but more importantly where the company is going. While National Wildlife Federation is not endorsing any of the products that organic gardeners and others find objectionable, we will be encouraging Scotts to develop products that will lead to a more sustainable world.
I believe we can do more for wildlife by working to move corporations with a large environmental footprint in the right direction. Here are three important indicators of where Scotts is taking a new approach to lawn and garden products.
REDUCING PHOSPHORUS:
Lawns are a significant feature in the American landscape and what happens in our lawns doesn’t stay in our lawns. NASA has a great website that depicts the significance of lawns in and around aquatic ecosystems like the Chesapeake Bay.
Chemical runoff from lawns, particularly phosphorus which is a limiting nutrient, has a major impact on a number of lakes and fresh water portions of estuaries. Excess phosphorus stimulates "dead zones” by stimulating algae blooms that cause oxygen depletion in lakes, reservoirs and tidal fresh estuaries.
National Wildlife Federation has been promoting efforts to regulate non-point pollution under the Clean Water Act for decades with little real progress. It is clear that to make progress in this cause we need to work with companies that can make better product formulation decisions that will have a positive impact on millions of lawns and gardens across America. By working with Scotts, we can give voice to the need to curtail the use of phosphorus in lawn and garden fertilizer. As a result of a recent court decision, Scotts will phase out phosphorus in all of its fertilizers at the end of 2012 (with the exception of its plant starter products). This will create a market shift, as Scotts is a dominate player in the residential lawn care world. National Wildlife Federation supported this decision and we will work with Scotts to continue to encourage further improvements in the company’s fertilizers to protect fish, wildlife and their habitats.
MOVING AWAY FROM PEAT MOSS:
Millions of American gardeners buy Peat Moss to add organic matter to their gardens, not knowing that it has an enormous ecological consequence to sphagnum wetland ecosystems all across the boreal region of Canada where peat is mined. Peat mining also disrupts critically important carbon storage systems and destroys the biological and archeological records which are preserved in acidic bogs and other sphagnum wetlands.
With NWF’s full support, Scotts has undertaken a comprehensive effort to move away from the use of peat in its products and is replacing peat with recycled organic matter from much better sources. We will continue to encourage Scotts’ efforts in this important transition to save fragile ecosystems and to protect the earth’s best carbon sinks.
TURNING LAWNS INTO CARBON SINKS:
Scotts’ scientists recognize that carbon storage in our lawns can be an important component for recapturing carbon pollution. They are studying various lawn management strategies and seed mixes to optimize carbon storage in our lawns. As we know and understand more about how to optimize carbon storage and how to minimize greenhouse gas emissions from our lawns, NWF will attempt to communicate meaningful solutions that gardeners and other homeowners can adopt. More information on this work can be found here.”

I do not expect that you all have read every word above, let alone read anything here without a high degree of skepticism. I would not expect less from my blog readers. So, you ask, what is my impression?

Let me say that I think this partnership is at best premature. First, it is abundantly clear that NWF did not solicit any input from their membership before reaching their decision, and that is truly insulting to the supporters it had before now. Second, why not let Scotts actively demonstrate their professed commitment to a changing “philosophy” before entering into any monetary agreement with them?

Nevertheless, I am hard-pressed to simply dismiss the National Wildlife Federation as having “sold out” to corporate interests. One cannot overlook all the good this non-profit has done throughout its history. How many of you grew up on Ranger Rick or Your Big Backyard? Do we not look to NWF for unbiased news on environmental issues? Do we really think that is going to change with this partnership?

I am cautiously optimistic about this, and would not recommend that any of my readers hastily yank their membership in, and support of, the National Wildlife Federation. I will, however, be keeping an eye on the organization’s response to its critics, both internal and external. What happens in the next few weeks will go a long way to determining NWF’s continued leadership and legitimacy in environmental stewardship.

More on this issue: ”National Wildlife Federation & Scotts Miracle-Gro: WWRRD?”
”David Mijewski Defends National Wildlife Federation Partnership with Scotts Miracle Gro”

Tropica Botanica

2012-01-21T06:00:00.000-08:00

Houseplants grow here
Unexpectedly.
We feel a bit deflated,
Having thought our apartment
Was their natural habitat.
Waterfalls,
Not watering cans,
And squalls,
Not spritzers,
Are what the foliage needs.
Now,
We are in their element,
Their apartment,
And imagine them whispering:
Is this their natural habitat?

Eric R. Eaton, circa 1989

Image of Monstera Plants at Rainbow Falls, Wailuku River State Park, Island of Hawaii, by Jeff Gnass and featured in the Wilderness 1989 Sierra Club Engagement Calendar. It inspired the poem.

Bear Creek Park

2012-01-19T15:07:00.000-08:00

The El Paso County Parks in Colorado are a real treasure. Among the most used is Bear Creek Park on the western edge of Colorado Springs, abutting the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains. The park is laced with trails, which actually makes it somewhat difficult to navigate, but the views alone are worth the trouble.

Signs with maps are present at each major intersection of trails, but it took me a minute to decide that the bright yellow circular highlight stood for “you are here.” A large parcel of private land also divides the park, forcing hikers into a frustratingly long detour to get from one side to the other. The landowner needs to at least grant an easement to permit a more direct trail to the nature center located in the northwest corner of the park.

The nature center is spacious, and besides the permanent displays there is a room that can host traveling exhibits. When I visited on January 5, a traveling exhibit entitled “The Hidden World of Bears” was in its final days there. Oh, and they don’t call the place Bear Creek for nothing. There really are Black Bears living in the area.

Many of the exhibits in the nature center are interactive rather than static, but there are the obligatory taxidermy mounts. The original building was destroyed in a suspected arson fire in the year 2000. That it was rebuilt quckly is a testament to the commitment of the Colorado Springs community to continue the park’s commitment to excellence in environmental education and natural history interpretation.

While the front desk is usually manned by a volunteer, I was lucky enough to meet Ken Pals, a semi-retired naturalist with El Paso County Parks. He shared his ideas on how I might be able to help the park by presenting programs there. Indeed, they have a wide variety of activities going on all the time, aimed at children, families, and adults.

There is a paved nature trail in the immediate vicinity of the nature center, with one loop designated as the “Songbird Trail.” It includes several illustrated interpretive signs and a boardwalk close to Bear Creek. There are also feeders that attract a wide variety of birds at any time of the year. I got good views of Dark-eyed Junco, Blue Jay, Western Scrub Jay, White-breasted Nuthatch, Black-capped Chickadee, House Finch, American Goldfinch, and even a Downy Woodpecker in under an hour of watching on the afternoon of January 5. I can only imagine what an early morning visit would be like for bird diversity.

I’m already looking forward to spending some spring days at Bear Creek Park. I hope you will put it on your own list of places to go when you visit Colorado Springs.

Timberline

2012-01-13T06:00:00.000-08:00

Hemlock tops
Boughed in prayer
To the Sun God,
To the Snow God.
Winter Water weight gain
Shed with the thaw,
Hemlock heads
Bending like Narcissus
To admire their own beauty.

Eric R. Eaton, circa 1989

Squaw Creek National Wildlife Refuge

2012-01-11T16:05:00.000-08:00

Over the Christmas holiday I had the privilege of visiting the Squaw Creek National Wildlife Refuge on the afternoon of December 27, 2011. Not only did I get to go with my fiancée, Heidi Genter, but also Heidi’s mom, sister, and her sister’s five-year old daughter. At the refuge we met a mutual friend from Facebook, Shelly Cox, and her husband Joey.

No sooner did we arrive at refuge headquarters than we spotted several Bald Eagles, both adults an immature, gliding overhead. It was a good omen. Shelly, who works for the Missouri Department of Conservation, makes regular trips to the refuge; and Heidi’s mother often brought her students their on field trips when she was a teacher at a Lutheran elementary school in nearby Leavenworth, Kansas. So, we were blessed to have people along who knew where to go to see wildlife.

The interior of the headquarters building is full of great information, most of it free for the taking. Brochures, maps, coloring books for children, and even a frame-worthy print of an image of a Bald Eagle by photographer Jim Rathert, are among the items we took home with us. There are also gifts one can purchase.

Beyond the front desk are interpretive exhibits that offer an introduction to the fauna of the refuge. Most specimens are taxidermy mounts, but some are alive. The day we visited there was a very healthy specimen of an Eastern Massasauga rattlesnake, Sistrurus catenatus, on display. This is an endangered reptile in the state of Missouri, and a candidate for federal listing as “threatened.”

Leaving the headquarters, we proceeded to drive around the large bodies of water that make the refuge so inviting to migrating waterfowl, raptors, and other birds. You can hear the vast flocks of Snow Goose, Chen caerulescens, long before you see them, but the sight is truly spectacular. An eagle passing overhead sends them into a tizzy, flying up in great clouds of wings, and amping up their already loud honking.

Recent counts put the Snow Goose tally at over 82,000 birds. A month before it was nearly 228,000.

Besides geese (including Canada Goose, of course), Trumpeter Swans are another abundant species. Over 200 had been seen the week before our visit. We also saw several Red-tailed Hawks, and one solitary Rough-legged Hawk, Buteo lagopus (below). The refuge is also a paradise for Muskrat, Ondatra zibethicus. We saw several, but were told they were vastly more common prior to last year’s great flood of the Missouri River that pushed them up to the foot of the bluffs surrounding the floodplain. We also saw one Whitetail Deer, Odocoileus virginianus.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt established the Squaw Creek NWR in 1935, and the Civilian Conservation Corps built most of the dikes, roads, trails, and buildings while camping in nearby Mound City. The refuge is more than just wetlands (3,400 acres). There are also 2,100 acres of grassland, 1,560 acres of forests and woodlands, and 400 acres of crops.

Driving along the berms there are places to pull off the road and look for birds. You can even build your own eagle eyrie at one stop.

Such imaginative interpretive features help make this refuge a popular resource for nature educators.

Late afternoon in late December may not be the best time to visit, but our trip did provide a spectacular sunset view over the open waters, and even a “Sun Dog” weather phenomenon. Fine ice crystals in cirrus clouds can create a short rainbow on either side of the sun (below).

Special thanks again to Shelly Cox for being our tour guide. For more and better images of the birds and wildlife of Squaw Creek National Wildlife Refuge, please browse this Flickr.com group. You will get hooked for sure, and want to add this gem to your list of places to travel to.

Art

2011-12-26T06:00:00.000-08:00

The palette knife of Nature
Paints impressionist reflections
In shards of ice.
Mountains merge with sky
On upside down horizon.
Pigments thicker here,
Absent there,
And rough edges everywhere.
Leroy Neiman's landscape,
Stucco patterns in a plaster world.

Eric R. Eaton, circa 1989

Misplaced Waterfowl

2011-12-22T12:53:00.000-08:00

Have you ever wondered what constitutes a “duck pond?” Is it the mere presence of waterfowl? Is it over a certain number of acres, or under a certain number? Perhaps it is always an artificial pond, constructed as a decorative landscape feature. The “lake” at the intersection of Interstate 25 and Circle Drive/Lake Avenue in Colorado Springs certainly fits the bill on all counts.

Heidi had been watching the “rare bird alert” for Colorado and discovered that a Long-tailed Duck, Clangula hyemalis, had been spotted in this most improbable of locales. You just can’t get any more urban than this: a pond situated right off a major freeway, with a Doubletree Hotel and Tinsel Town cinemas being the most prominent nearby features. Yet, there it was, this wayward migrant. The duck formerly known as the “Oldsquaw” normally spends the winter along the extreme north Pacific coast, from BC to Alaska, and the Atlantic coast as far south as North Carolina (though scarce). It breeds in the Arctic, spending the summers there.

This specimen was without the trademark long tail, but there was no mistaking that pink-and-black bill. We were pleasantly surprised that the lake was small enough to allow us to get really good views of all the species of waterfowl there. Here on the Front Range, there are not that many wetlands to begin with, and most are large reservoirs that do not allow anything but long-distance views of birds requiring spotting scopes and high-powered binoculars.

A large flock of the Canada Goose, Branta Canadensis, dominated the lake, and you have to watch where you step lest you return home with goose poop on your shoes. Beyond the geese were good numbers of the Common Goldeneye, Bucephala clangula, Ring-necked Ducks, Aythya collaris, and a small number of Canvasback, A. valisineria. A few Mallards were there, too, of course, and a handful of Hooded Mergansers, Lophodytes cucullatus. Oh, and at least three Northern Shovelers, Anas clypeata.

Common Goldeneye drake

Hooded Merganser pair

Heidi has sharper eyes than I do, and she spotted something equally out-of-place. She managed to get a picture, but we are getting conflicting opinions as to whether the bird depicted below is a Greater or Lesser Scaup. Lessers are not uncommon summer residents here in central Colorado, but should be wintering farther south. Greaters are again coastal birds that should have no business this far inland.

The western edges of the pond were already covered in ice, but with days now getting longer, we hope to return regularly to look for more ducks and geese on the remaining open water. It sure beats longer road trips to Chatfield Reservoir and even Fountain Creek Regional Park where we have seen far lower numbers and diversity of our fine feathered friends.

Re-Verb

2011-12-17T12:36:00.000-08:00

Ram-impact
Rebounds,
Ricochets off
Rock walls,
Riveting the attention of
Ravens

Rattlesnake shakes,
Re-coils,
Re-enters his
Rodent burrow
Resovling to
Return

Eric R. Eaton, circa 1985

Thanksgiving

2011-11-29T10:16:00.000-08:00

This past Thursday, November 24, I was lucky enough to get to spend a glorious, warm (70 degrees Fahrenheit in Colorado Springs proper) day at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. It made me realize how thankful I am for my fiancée, Heidi Genter, who works as an animal keeper there, and for the many natural wonders the world has to offer us.

I found it ironic that the zoo’s flock of wild turkeys roamed about their yard carefree on a day we celebrate by feasting on their domesticated brethren. They are really quite magnificent birds and it is exciting to encounter them in the wild. Benjamin Franklin, had he gotten his way, would have made them the National Bird, in fact.

The zoo has a magnificent moose exhibit, complete with a “lake” that the resident bull seems to truly enjoy. One appears to need faith that the animal can’t clear the low railing on the near side of the pond. I had to stand back to get this image!

I was also treated to a close view of an American Lynx that was gnawing on a treat provided by its keepers. It is unlikely that your average person will ever see one of these amazing cats in their natural habitat, so zoos are just about the only place you can glimpse one. Indeed, one regular zoo visitor exclaimed that you “never see that guy down this close (in its enclosure).”

The warm temperatures even brought out a few insects, including this Western Paper Wasp, Mischocyttarus flavitarsis, prowling among pine needles for any last bit of honeydew from the now dormant conifer aphids.

Even some flowers were blooming. A lone rabbitbrush (Chrysothamnus or Ericameria) had fresh blossoms, much later in the season than normal, but Witch Hazel regularly blooms in the late autumn or early winter.

Here’s hoping that the remaining holidays allow you time to enjoy the great outdoors and discover your own hidden treasures and favorite (wild) things.

The Kansas School Naturalist

2011-11-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

Anyone with an interest in nature owes it to themselves to become familiar with The Kansas School Naturalist, a (highly) periodical journal devoted to all aspects of the natural world. I received my latest issues (below) about three weeks ago, but it has been at least one year since the last volume. The sporadic nature of this publication is its only drawback, however. The mission and content are outstanding.

The Kansas School Naturalist has been enlightening its audience since at least 1954, judging from the catalog that came with the newest additions. Just who is the audience, and how does it circulate? I’ll let the masthead inside the cover of each issue speak for itself:

”The Kansas School Naturalist is sent free of charge and upon request to teachers and anyone interested in natural history and nature education. In-print back issues are sent free as long as supply lasts. Out-of-print back issues are sent for one dollar photocopy and postage/handling charge per issue. The Kansas School Naturalist is sent free upon request by media mail to all U.S. zipcodes, first class to Mexico and Canada, and surface mail overseas. The Kansas School Naturalist is published by Emporia State University, Emporia, Kansas. Postage paid at Emporia, Kansas. Address all correspondence to: Editor, Kansas School Naturalist, Department of Biological Sciences, Box 4050, Emporia State University, Emporia, KS 66801-5087. Opinions and perspectives expressed are those of the authors and/or editor and do not reflect the official position or endorsement of E.S.U. Some issues can be viewed online at: www.emporia.edu/ksn/ The Kansas School Naturalist is listed in Ulrich’s International Periodicals Directory, indexed in Wildlife Review/Fisheries Review, and appropriate issues are indexed in the Zoological Record. The KSN is an irregular publication issued from one to four times per year.

It is important to know that not every issue is restricted in its geographic treatment to the state of Kansas. Even if that were the case, Kansas is literally in the heartland of the U.S. and many species found there occur over much of North America east of the Rocky Mountains. The issue on centipedes and millipedes actually discusses global fauna.

All issues I have received have included plenty of images, often in color, and an easy-to-follow layout. A list of technical references is also included, such that the reader can pursue whatever level of additional scholarly information they so desire.

Once you are on the mailing list, you will receive all forthcoming issues for life (as near as I can tell, anyway). Inserted in each will be a little yellow slip politely requesting a donation in any amount to the Emporia State University Foundation, and applied to the Kansas School Naturalist. It is a worthy cause as this short note on the back of the donation slip indicates:

”Dear Kansas School Naturalist Reader:
In 2004, we sent the millionth copy of Kansas School Naturalist free to teachers, scout leaders, librarians, and others upon request. While there is heavy readership within Kansas, the KSN serves readers nationwide and internationally. Grants and the grassroots contributions of readers are our major source of funds. Our high-interest, high-accuracy booklets authored by the experts in the field are a mainstay of science education in classrooms, labs, and fieldwork. To help the Kansas School Naturalist reach a new generation and raise environmental literacy, take a moment to contribute to the KSN endowment and underwrite…
…A SECOND MILLION COPIES!"

I plan to donate again soon. I haven’t done so in awhile, and I need to alert them to my new address anyway. I just hope they don’t confuse me with an Emporia State U. alum again.

Rut

2011-10-29T12:37:00.000-07:00

The asymmetry of antlers
Doesn't bother the caribou
At peace with imperfection.
A worn pointer,
A broken rack,
It doesn't matter.
No mirrors to reveal deficiencies,
The girls know no better.

Eric R. Eaton circa 1989

A Zoo With a View

2011-10-20T06:00:00.000-07:00

I would never have known about the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo were it not for my girlfriend, who works as a zookeeper there. This remarkable attraction advertises itself as the only truly mountain zoo in the United States, and it lives up to that billing. Sitting literally on the side of Cheyenne Mountain at an elevation of 6, 800 feet, it offers a panoramic view of Colorado Springs and the plains that stretch beyond the city.

It must be one of the oldest zoos in western North America, too, founded in 1926 by mining mogul Spencer Penrose. He incorporated the facility in 1938 as a non-profit public trust. This is another unique aspect of the zoo: it is privately run and takes no tax dollars for its operation, relying solely on admissions, memberships, donations and grants for its existence and continuing expansion.

The zoo hosts over 1, 000 animals representing nearly 200 species. Some of these are seasonal exhibits, such as the alligators, but thirty-one are participants in global Species Survival Plans. The zoo is best known for its herd of giraffes. These tall animals are a real attraction that visitors can feed from elevated boardwalks around the exhibit. Their popularity sometimes causes....well, “giraffe-ic jams.”

The zoo views are more than scenic, though you can take the “Mountaineer Sky Ride, ” a ski-lift style incline, for the ultimate experience. The zig-zag pedestrian pathways between exhibits allow one to often have a nearly 360 degree view of some of the animals. I was startled to find myself only a few feet from a Mountain Goat just below me when I was watching a magpie in its enclosure.

Maintaining accreditation with the Association of Zoos and Aquariums is a constant challenge given the age of many of the enclosures and the buildings that house still other exhibits, but progress is both steady and obvious. A brand new elephant barn and vastly expanded outdoor yard are nearing completion as I write this. Zoo officials were hoping to debut the new digs by now, but concern for the safety and acclimatization of the pachyderms means the grand opening will be delayed.

The zoo administrators are endlessly creative in fundraising. One example is the “Round Up for Elephants” that allows patrons of the zoo restaurant and other concessions to round up their purchase price with the extra change going to finishing the new exhibit. The zoo thus makes it easy for you to make a difference.

Yet another interesting facet of the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo is that some of the wildlife is not in cages. Native Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels have run of the place, when they can avoid becoming the prey of weasels. Deer make regular appearances on the grounds. Bears are problematic and unwanted guests that dumpster-dive after hours. Magpies scrounge for scraps from the captive animals. A Golden Eagle soared overhead just last week. Hummingbirds, as well as butterflies, bees, and other insects visit the many native flowers planted as part of the landscaping. I am working with two zookeepers to draft a list of all these species. Invertebrates included, it already tops 200 species.

Zookeepers and curators are constantly striving to create new enrichment opportunities for their captive charges, inventing new ways to enhance the mental and physical health of creatures that normally range unfettered for miles in their native habitats. Their caring attention shows. The animals are in beautiful condition.

The zoo does not settle for the standard fair of keeper talks and summer camps, either. Many special events highlight the year, including this month’s “Boo at the Zoo,” and the ever-popular “Electric Safari,” celebrating its 20th anniversary this holiday season.

I am looking forward to learning more about the zoo, and maybe even helping to integrate more invertebrate wildlife into their collection. It is difficult to not want to be a part of something that brings so much joy to visitors, and helps insure the continued survival of endangered species.

For more information, please see the web site for the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, as well as their blog, ”In Between the Spots.” Follow the zoo on Twitter and “like” it on Facebook. Most of all, do visit, become a member, or otherwise participate in more than the virtual zoo. You’ll be glad you did.

The Trouble With Tucson

2011-10-12T15:39:00.000-07:00

Ecologically and economically, Tucson, Arizona may be one of the worst western cities.

I moved from Tucson to Colorado Springs, Colorado to be with my girlfriend, but I probably would have left anyway given the clash between my lifestyle and the realities of this Sonoran Desert city. I must preface this critique by admitting I am spoiled. I grew up in Portland, Oregon and also lived eleven years in Cincinnati, Ohio. Those two cities rank one and two in per capita greenspace of all U.S. cities. If only Tucson was even on the radar in this regard.

False Advertising
Don’t let the tourism machine fool you. The city of Tucson has essentially no natural areas. The renowned Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum is west of Tucson, on the other side of the Tucson Mountains. Sabino Canyon, a very popular destination for hikers and tourists is located north of the city limits by about six miles. Neither of these attractions is serviced by public transit. You must have a vehicle to access truly wild habitats, including the many life zones along the Mount Lemmon (Catalina) Highway.

Tohono Chul Park actually is serviced by Sun Tran (the city bus system), though it is just outside the city boundary in the far northwestern corner. Unfortunately, Tohono Chul is a private park that charges a rather substantial admission, whether or not you park a car there. They do provide superior natural history interpretation, including the best presentation on reptiles I have seen anywhere.

Where is the Wild?
The city itself has made almost no effort to provide natural parks. I frequented Greasewood Park on the extreme western fringe by Pima Community College West Campus. There are picnic tables, one central ramada (shelter), and trails, but the park is notorious as a meeting place for gay men to have trysts. Kennedy Park on the southeast side has a few trails and backs up against the truly wild Tucson Mountain Park, but it also has a “lake” stocked with fish, and the requisite ball fields, even an amphitheatre.

Indeed, the county parks are the truly natural parks, but again, they are inaccessible by public transportation. Roy P. Drachman Agua Caliente Regional Park is a unique, albeit heavily managed, wetland frequented as much by birdwatchers as the average family wanting a barbecue venue. There is also an art gallery and the local Audubon Society chapter has a presence there.

The Sonoran Desert Conservation Plan
I got all excited when I first arrived in Tucson back in 2001 because I learned of the Sonoran Desert Conservation Plan, a county blueprint designed to protect critical habitat for vulnerable species like the Cactus Ferruginous Pygmy Owl. I attended a meeting full of enthusiasm only to learn that the entire City of Tucson was exempted from the plan. This would never be tolerated in Portland, and probably not Cincinnati, either. The Tucson Audubon Society is finally addressing the idea of urban wildlife habitats and corridors, but their emphasis still seems to be on leading birding trips to other areas of southeast Arizona.

Jobs, or Lack Thereof
”You get paid in sunshine” is a recurring excuse for the low wages of Tucson. True, the cost of living is fairly low there, but you can’t get ahead, either. There is an almost complete absence of mid-level jobs. It is either literally “rocket science,” with high-end optics, defense (weapons) contractors, and bio-engineering demanding a highly-educated workforce, or “Do you want fries with that?” While immigrants, illegal or legal, probably don’t impact the availability of jobs, the insistence on catering to non-English speakers means that if you are not bilingual your chances of landing many types of jobs is slim.

Sprawl
Maybe the most overriding and bleakest aspect of Tucson is its sprawling nature. Tucsonans are quick to point to Phoenix as a sprawling, smog-shrouded city to be avoided at all costs, but they don’t have much room to argue sitting in the Old Pueblo. Long ago Tucson decided you couldn’t build anything over two or three stories so as not to obscure your neighbors’ view of the Santa Catalina Mountains, but the price of this has been low-density development and a horizontal expansion that shows no signs of even slowing, let alone stopping. Meanwhile, the economic decline has resulted in many, many vacant storefronts that breed graffiti and other forms of vandalism. Litter swirls in the dust devils. The homeless occupy alleys and city parks.

So Long
While I truly love the friends I made while living in Tucson (and it took a long time to find them given the odd demographics), I can’t say I’m sorry to bid farewell to the town itself. I don’t know yet whether Colorado Springs will be much better, but I’m more optimistic. Tucson *might* be able to turn itself around, but it will take some strong-willed visionaries, and a lot of time. Good luck with that.

We're Moving!

2011-09-25T11:25:00.000-07:00

Well, the blog is staying put, actually, but the author is moving from Tucson, Arizona to Colorado Springs, Colorado next weekend. This blog will be on hiatus until he gets settled and hooked up with whatever internet provider serves his neighborhood there. Thank you in advance for your loyalty and patience. I am optimistic that I'll be back by mid-October, with the promise of more regular posts, too.

Madrona Marsh

2011-07-25T01:15:00.000-07:00

Freshwater wetlands in southern California have been shrinking for a long time, ever since draining them for development became profitable. Kudos, then, to the city of Torrance, California for preserving, and even enhancing, a wildlife haven called Madrona Marsh. The city park is named not for any madrone trees on the property, but for a neighborhood road, one of many named after various types of trees.

I had the pleasure of visiting the park on May 17 with my friends Kim Moore and Emile Feisler. Emile has been documenting the flora and fauna of the park in images for several years. We managed to add at least one new organism to his list while on our outing.

Like most parks in the Greater Los Angeles area, this one comes complete with a nature center. The displays were museum quality, and the building also had meeting space, a library, and offices. Across the street from the nature center is the actual preserve, fenced at present, the gate locked in off-hours.

The morning started under overcast skies leftover from rain the night before, but the clouds eventually gave way to a bright, sunny afternoon. Inclement weather by human standards is often just perfect for other organisms, though, and we found plenty of insects, birds, and other animals. One of the first birds we saw was a female Blue Grosebeak, in fact.

The marsh is actually a vernal wetland, fed by rains in the winter and spring. By the end of August the pan is dry, and remains so until the rains resume. This cyclic phenomenon means plants and animals must adapt to annual extremes of wet and dry. The area is also a “back dune” habitat that is part of the extensive El Segundo Sand Dune System. You would be hard pressed to find any physical feature resembling a dune, however.

Unfortunately, the preserve is not immune from non-native species, and in fact that is what dominates the landscape in many places. Argentine Ants have displaced most of the native ants, for example. There is also a leaf beetle from Australia that feeds voraciously on the equally-invasive eucalyptus trees.

The human history of the marsh has been varied. Native Americans and early settlers utilized the natural resources of the area. Since the 1920s, the marsh was used for oil recovery (southern California is studded with tar pits, not just the famous La Brea Tar Pits). Ironically, petroleum salvaging kept the area protected from commercial development. The Friends of Madrona Marsh, a non-profit organization established in 1971, worked with other community groups to galvanize support for saving the marsh as a wildlife habitat and passive recreation site. Lobbying efforts and legal wrangling paid off with the dedication of of 35 acres. Later, state funds were allocated to purchase another eight-and-a half acres. The City of Torrance took over stewardship of the park in 1986, helping to stave-off development as part of Park del Amo.

I highly recommend visiting Madrona Marsh. Keep an eye out for waterfowl and other birds, as well as Pacific Treefrogs, dragonflies and damselflies, and Fox Squirrels among the other wild animals that call this place home.

Point Vincente Interpretive Center

2011-06-16T07:00:00.000-07:00

One of the points of interest that I visited in southern California last month was the Point Vincente Interpretive Center in the City of Rancho Palos Verdes. This building, originally opened in 1984, was expanded and re-opened in 2006. While the focus of the center is the migration of the Pacific Gray Whale, there is much more to the facility.

It is surprising and pleasing to see that the majority of interpretive centers in southern California are city parks, rather than county, state, or privately-run. I think it improves civic pride and helps bond residents when they have a real public attraction to take ownership of. Like many of the centers in the Greater Los Angeles area, this one has art and landscaping around the exterior that creates an aesthetically-pleasing first impression.

Once inside, the first thing one sees is a open habitat diorama of the Palos Verdes Peninsula, and a fiberglass model of a Pacific Gray Whale suspended from the ceiling. A gift shop is on your immediate right, beyond which is the front desk, manned by both staff and volunteers. On our visit we were greeted by a volunteer anxious to explain the unique geology of the peninsula. This point of land is a tectonic fault block that has risen from the sea floor within the last two million years. That is quite recent by geologic standards. It was actually uplifted twice, with pronounced erosion in the interim, and obvious erosion visible today. Continual landslides make traversing the peninsula, even by vehicle, a bit dicey.

A good portion of the exhibit space in the center is devoted to man’s relationship to marine mammals, and whales in particular. Many historical artifacts related to whaling are on display, but equal time is given to the evolution of public opinion regarding cetaceans, and how research on these leviathans has progressed. It is quite an impressive collection considering how local the facility is.

Another surprise was the exhibit on the previous tenant of this piece of real estate. Remember Marineland of the Pacific? I recall it from my childhood. Many of my friends in elementary school made it down to that aquarium/theme park, though I never did. I had always thought that Marineland became Sea World, and indeed the owners of Sea World purchased Marineland in 1987, shutting it down shortly thereafter. The orcas, porpoises, and other animal performers were relocated to the San Diego park. The oceanarium known as Marineland had a good run, though, having opened in 1954.

Back outside, the gardens surrounding the nature center along the edge of the bluff attract a variety of insect and bird life. The behavior of wind and air currents along the bluff also means this is a premiere spot for watching soaring seabirds, especially Brown Pelicans. The odd Red-tailed Hawk may join them, spiraling on the thermals that seem to originate there.

I highly recommend a visit to this landmark the next time you find yourself in the vicinity of Los Angeles. Remember that the Pacific Gray Whale migration usually occurs from December through April. The bluff offers a spectacular view of the ocean below, the kelp forests waving in the crests and troughs of the tides. Whales would be easily visible, too.

Wildflowers of Charmlee

2011-06-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

I have to start by thanking Kim Moore and Emile Fiesler for offering their expertise on our hikes through various southern California parks last month. As promised, here is a little sample of the wildflowers we saw at Charmlee Wilderness Park in Malibu.

Besides the profusion of Bush Monkeyflower, Mimulus aurantiacus, perhaps the most abundant, and certainly fragrant, flowering plant was Purple Sage, Salvia leucophylla. The scent was quite overwhelming, but in a pleasant, intoxicating way. It can bloom anytime between May and July (our hike was on May 19), and is commonly seen in coastal sage scrub habitat, oddly enough.

This was not the only species of sage to be found at Charmlee, either. The amazing Crimson Pitcher Sage, Salvia spathacea, also goes by the name Hummingbird Sage. Indeed, the red flowers must be a real draw for those nectar-feeding birds. It blooms from March to May in chaparral, coastal sage scrub, and oak woodlands. Sages are in the mint family, by the way.

Another fairly common plant was Spreading Phlox, Phlox diffusa. These are pretty large flowers compared to what I think of when I think of a Phlox. This species blooms between May and August on dry slopes and flats.

Blue-eyed Grass, Sisyrinchium bellum, is not really a grass at all, but it does have long, narrow leaves that look like grassblades. It also grows in meadow habitats. Blooming between March and May, the flowers are a composition of three petals and three sepals fused at the base. They can vary greatly in color, and probably by age. This one was pale enough that in bright sunlight I could not get a detailed image. So, I shadowed the flower in order to get the “pinstripes” to show.

Coast Paintbrush (“Indian Paintbrush”), Castilleja affinis, was also blooming. Its flowering period is generally March to May, and it occurs in drier habitats up to 3, 500 feet elevation. Paintbrushes are in the figwort family Scrophulariaceae.

I am familiar with globemallows here in southern Arizona, where they can sometimes be viewed as “weeds,” but I was blown away by the Bush Mallow, Malacothamnus fasciculatus. This perennial can grow to be a fifteen foot tall shrub! It blooms from April to July and like its relatives can occupy disturbed habitats as well as dry, pristine native niches up to 2, 500 feet.

Different flowers are to be found in the more moist, shady, wooded sections of Charmlee. The most conspicuous flower we came across there was the Canyon Sunflower, Venegasia carpesioides. The large and profuse blossoms can’t be missed. They have a long blooming period, too, from February to September.

Wedge-leaf Horkelia, Horkelia cuneata, is in the rose family, though I never would have guessed that. It is characteristic of the ecotone where the woodland meets the drier, more exposed parts of the coastal sage scrub habitat; it blooms between April and September.

Last but not least, Leafy California Buckwheat, Eriogonum fasciculatum foliolosum, was especially prominent near the park entrance and restroom facilities. It may bloom anytime between May and November. It is a favorite with some bees, including honeybees that can create a good honey from the nectar they harvest from these flowers.

There are certainly more wildflowers to be found in Charmlee and in the surrounding mountains. A good website for identifying most of them is Wildflowers and Other Plants of Southern California by Michael L. Charters. It does help to know at least what family the plant is in, however, as there is no color-coded search option for this comprehensive website.

Charmlee Wilderness Park

2011-06-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

Charmlee Wilderness Park should probably be re-named “Charming” because it will become a favorite for anyone who visits there. Located at 2577 Encinal Canyon Road in the Santa Monica Mountains above Malibu, California, the woods, fields, and scenic views are sure to delight all hikers.

I had the pleasure to visit this city park (yes, a city park!) on May 19 with my new friends Kim Moore and Emile Fiesler. Both are first-rate naturalists intimately familiar with the flora and fauna of the area. There were plenty of plants and animals to keep me entranced, despite an unusually cool and wet spring this year.

One of the first animals to greet us was a Spotted Towhee. Normally, these birds are busy literally scratching out a living in the leaf litter under shrubs and trees. What a treat to be serenaded. We did see other birds, including the California Towhee, a much more drab cousin to the Spotted Towhee.

Wildflowers were in abundance, especially Bush Monkeyflower, Mimulus aurantiacus. It was the dominant shrub along wooded edges and ridgelines throughout the park. Mimulus of other varieties and colors were also to be found throughout the many parks I visited.

Another wildflower that caught my eye was this Mexican Pink, Silene laciniata. Plants in that genus are also known by the name “catchfly” because their sticky foliage often entangles insects. Apparently this particular species is common on the grassy slopes in coastal scrub habitat.

The East Meadow Trail at Charmlee is a must see if you like scenic views like this:

Hard to beat an ocean overlook on a reasonably clear day.

We hiked up the ridge to the Reservoir, now empty but on this day with a rock art peace symbol decorating its floor, and encountered two hilltopping butterflies. One was likely a Funereal Duskywing, Erynnis funeralis. The other was a magnificent male specimen of the Anise Swallowtail, Papilio zelicaon.

Coming down off the East Meadow Trail takes you through the Oak Groves on your way back to the parking area. The woodland offers pleasant relief after walking the hot, dry, open meadows. The flora and fauna are substantially different, too (stay tuned for an upcoming post on wildflowers of Charmlee).

As we pulled our car out of the parking space, we happened to notice a Calilfornia Whiptail lizard, Aspidoscelis tigris stejnegeri, break cover at the edge of the parking lot. The car idled while we debated whether to bother trying to get pictures of this regal reptile. Ultimately, we grabbed our cameras, got out of the vehicle, and approached the lizard ever so slowly. I fully expected the animal to bolt for the next county if I even blinked, but to my amazement it was incredibly tolerant, even allowing close-ups. As Kim put it, that was the “icing on the dessert of the day.”

Charmlee is open 8 AM to sunset, every day. There is a $4.00 parking fee. The modest nature center, not open when we were there, is normally open Saturdays and Sundays, 8 AM to 5 PM.

Aquarium of the Pacific

2011-06-04T14:48:00.000-07:00

One of the many places I visited in southern California last month was the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach. I was accompanied by Kim Moore who is a volunteer at this impressive facility. The aquarium is only thirteen years old (as of this June 20, 2011), and they just opened a new exhibit, “Arctic & Antarctic: Our Polar Regions in Peril.”

Located in the Long Beach Shoreline Rainbow Harbor Marina, the aquarium is flanked by restaurants and tour boats, with the Lions Lighthouse for Sight just around the corner (left of the above image). Kim and I took one of the harbor tours to break up the visit to the aquarium.

The first thing you encounter upon entering the aquarium is a life-size model of a female blue whale and her calf (hidden in this image), suspended from the ceiling. The adult fiberglass facsimile is “only” eighty-eight feet long, which it turns out is about average for the current population of this species. He name is “Edie,” and her male calf is “Edison.” The accuracy of these models is impressive, and one gets to truly appreciate the streamlined bodies of these leviathans.

Beyond the whale is a two-story window on a tank called the “Blue Cavern,” in the Great Hall of the Pacific. This tall exhibit is an excellent introduction to the kelp forest habitats common along the southern California coast. In this case, the inspiration was Blue Cavern Point along the northeast edge of Santa Catalina Island. Among the denizens of the exhibit are some impressive California moray eels, Gymnothorax mordax.

Adjacent to the Blue Cavern is the Amber Forest and other “galleries” depicting the marine life of southern California and the Baja peninsula. One small aquarium features a captivating colony of Garden Eels (Heteroconger sp.).

The indoor portion is just one facet of the whole complex. The aquarium also boasts outdoor exhibits that include shark and ray touch tanks where visitors can gently stroke harmless cartilaginous fishes like Bamboo Sharks and Bat Rays. Visible from both above the water and below are Sea Otters and California Sea Lions.

Yet another outdoor exhibit is the Lorikeet Forest, a 3,200 square foot aviary where visitors can feed these stunning birds. Five of the 32 subspecies of the Rainbow Lorikeet are on exhibit.

Native to Australia, New Zealand, and islands in the South Pacific, lories are under pressure from the black market pet trade and from farmers who view the birds as pests in fruit orchards.

Back indoors, the Tropical Pacific Gallery features fish and invertebrates from faraway places. A Northern Pacific Gallery holds animals (including birds like puffins and auklets) from the cold waters of British Columbia and Japan.

It is impossible to communicate in one blog entry all of the exhibits and entertainment opportunities afforded by the Aquarium of the Pacific. It is not a cheap attraction (admission is $24.95 for adults, $21.95 for seniors age 62 and over, and $12.95 for children 3-11), but well worth the price. You should plan on spending the whole day watching the birds, mammals, invertebrates and fish. Don’t be surprised if some of them watch you in return.

Blogger is himself misplaced....

2011-05-17T20:30:00.000-07:00

"Bug Eric" is out of the office temporarily, and Sense of Misplaced will be on hiatus until he returns. Thank you for your patience and understanding. Many new posts will follow in the coming weeks.

Haiku

2011-05-06T18:37:00.000-07:00

Haiku seems to be making a resurgence in literary circles these days, as well as among naturalists (and friends) like Susan J. Tweit, Julie Zickefoose and Abigail Parker. Abby once committed to one haiku a day, and her verses are wonderful.

My most recent attempt to date is this:

Flaming clouds at dusk
Sear the sunset sky to black
Embers glow as stars

A previous attempt yielded something silly, based on watching traffic one morning while waiting for the bus:

Speeding trees go by
Riding in truck flowerbed
Destination home?

I would love for readers of this blog to share their own haiku poems; and also share their secrets for writing regularly in an age that eats your time before you know it is gone. Take care, friends.

Mental Illness

2011-04-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

The headline on the front page of the Sunday Arizona Daily Star this week asked “Why don’t we help those with mental illness?” Talk about a population that is misplaced, the unfortunate individuals diagnosed with mental illness are probably at the top of the list. I think there are several reasons why we don’t help the mentally ill, and the first one is because we call it “mental illness.”

I am not a doctor, but given what I know, there really isn’t any such thing as mental illness. All diseases have a physiological cause, at least at the level of biochemistry, so it would seem more appropriate to call diseases of the mind by a name that reflects this. Perhaps “neurological disorders” or “cerebral anomalies” would be a better phrasing of such conditions. Our minds are not something disconnected from our brain and nervous system. Indeed, our mind originates from those sources.

Adding to the difficulty of diagnosing mental illness are the media stereotypes of those disorders. We continue to perpetuate myths such as schizophrenic people being violent. What does legitimately concern our society is the unpredictability of mental disease episodes. A manic or depressive period may come at the worst possible time for an employer, spouse, or friend to deal with. We are generally an impatient and selfish culture that gets frustrated (at the least) when we don’t know if we can count on someone to be there for us and our needs.

There is the stigma of mental illness to be sure, but we are also wary of being fooled. Don’t those with Multiple Personality Disorder just turn it on and off at will? There is this mistaken belief that the mentally ill still have some choice in their state of mind at any moment, because those of us without any affliction know how we are presenting ourselves to the world.

Another barrier to addressing mental illness is the notion that people bring on mental illness themselves. Drug use, for example, often leads to symptoms of mental illness such as hallucinations and erratic behavior.

Treatment is often an exercise in futility because the patient is not the best source of information on their state of well-being. Patients who are doing well because of medication may decide they no longer need the drugs, which then leads to cycles of sickness and recovery.

Patients therefore need “management,” but we have painted ourselves into an ethical corner because of our previous sins in committing mentally ill people to asylums where they were horribly abused. We are loathe to repeat such crimes, so dismiss the idea of institutionalizing “mental patients” in a society that celebrates freedom above all else.

We are also reluctant to intervene when we suspect someone may be suffering from mental illness. I see this in the entomological community whenever someone broaches the topic of “delusory parasitosis.” This condition is usually manifested by the sensation that insects are crawling on the person, or beneath their skin. The patient often brings bags of lint and dust to an entomologist, insisting that the bugs are “in there,” when even microscopic evaluation of the fibers and particles reveals there is no insect, mite, or other creature to be found. The entomologist then tries his or her best to pacify the patient or pawn them off on another expert, which leads to frustration for the patient, too, who can never get a straight answer.

What do we do, then? What is the answer? There is no single answer, but the first step is for us to become better educated on just what constitutes “mental illness.” We need to learn how to recognize it, especially in its early stages when treatment might have a better chance of success. Mostly, we need to have compassion for those who suffer from mental illness, as we do for those who have more obvious physical handicaps.

Let’s not let the mentally ill remain misplaced in our society. Let us find ways to integrate them into our places of employment, social circles, and our healthcare system.

Meet Heidi Genter

2011-04-08T15:09:00.000-07:00

Since first meeting Heidi Genter in person, in the Denver airport, about the only times I don’t feel “misplaced” are by her side or in her arms. She has become the love of my life, endlessly supportive yet remaining the strong, independent woman that she is. I am very fortunate to have found someone so compatible and truly delightful.

We have tried to trace the origins of our friendship and it definitely started on Facebook. That sounds like a cliché, I know, but that social network can hold some wonderful surprises for those who take the plunge. Near as we can tell, Heidi and I both “liked” the Bugguide page on Facebook, and things just went from there. Who cares who contacted who first, if the results can be like this?

Heidi knows for certain that we started talking nightly on the telephone on April 9, 2010. She has an inclusive phone plan that allows for unlimited long distance calls. We are both bummed by Daylight Savings Time, since that means she is one hour ahead of me.

Heidi lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where she has worked as a keeper of the great apes at Cheyenne Mountain Zoo for 17 years. She also works part-time as an usher for concerts and other entertainment events at various city arenas and venues. Devoted to her Lutheran church, she sings in the choir and plays in the hand bell choir, too.

Heidi enjoys geocaching as a way to get into the great outdoors, venturing out nearly every weekend with a trio of friends. A gifted and talented artist, Heidi renders animals and other subjects in watercolor, selling some of her pieces through Café Press. She also created and produces an annual zoo fundraiser called “Art on the Hoof” that has been a great success. Heidi has a pet dog, two birds, a corn snake, and wolf spider at last count.

We finally met in person in Denver, on October 13, 2010. I had been invited by another friend, Abigail Parker, to go to Cape May, New Jersey to watch birds during the fall migration. Abby mentioned we would stay at her parents’ beach house in Ocean City, and that there was room for more people. I invited Heidi, but was truly surprised when she agreed to go. I am very respectful of her morals and beliefs, and would have understood completely if she had felt that this was just not the proper way to initiate a relationship, lodging in the same house when we were essentially still strangers. Her willingness to stretch her boundaries to accommodate opportunities like this is one of Heidi’s most attractive qualities.

We had a spectacular time leisurely strolling on the Ocean City boardwalk, snapping pictures of birds at Cape May Point State Park, and ending the day with a tub of Johnson’s Popcorn caramel corn and cuddling on the couch. Neither of us dreamed that we would hit it off so well, but were delighted. By the end of the trip, enjoying genuine cheesesteaks in Abby’s hometown of Philadelphia, we knew we had something to build on.

Home again in our respective cities, we decided we needed to see each other again soon. Heidi decided to use some of her precious vacation time to come to Tucson for New Year’s. Unfortunately, she brought the cold weather with her, and we darn near froze on our New Year’s Eve visit to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. That evening we had dinner and took in a comedy show at Laffs Comedy Club. New Year’s Day we went hiking in the Sabino Canyon Recreation Area, where Heidi found at least three geocaches. We saw plenty of birds and a trio of deer, too.

January second we went to the Sweetwater Wetlands and saw many more birds, enjoying the slightly warming weather. Heidi departed the evening of January third, but not before we took in the Butterfly Magic exhibit at the Tucson Botanical Gardens. Somewhere in all of this we also managed to play pool with Leigh Anne DelRay and her husband David Crowell. Leigh Anne gave her seal of approval to Heidi and I, which I really take to heart.

Most recently, Heidi went to southern California for a workshop on Imperiled Butterfly Conservation & Management. One of Heidi’s self-appointed responsibilities through the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo is the conservation of the Pawnee Montane Skipper, and her involvement with its recovery includes a series of workshops where colleagues share their methods and practices. I came out to meet Heidi at the conclusion of the workshop, and we stayed with her uncle Dale and his wife Beth in Carpinteria. Another great time was had by all, and we were really grateful for Dale and Beth’s hospitality.

Heidi and I have plans to meet in Chicago for an upcoming family reunion (her side), then I will check out Colorado Springs in preparation to move there this fall. We both move through life at the same pace, and I really think that is why we get along so well and believe that our relationship will endure. Thank you, Sweetheart, for all that you are.

St. Patrick's Day

2011-03-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know I’m a little late with this, but am I the only one who is annoyed when March 17 rolls around? I was grateful to learn I’m not alone when my girlfriend asked jokingly, in so many words, how the Irish get off thinking they deserve their own day of celebration. Sure, there’s Oktoberfest, but that isn’t an actual “day,” and it isn’t as widely recognized. I myself am an American Mutt, if you will, and there isn’t a day to celebrate my heritage.

I do think that our collective attitudes are changing. St. Patrick’s Day may still be about green beer, shamrocks, and leprechauns, but other holidays are undergoing a metamorphosis. Increasingly, Columbus Day is being celebrated as Native American Day, or Indigenous Peoples Day, to rightfully recognize those who came before all of us European settlers. Hm-m-m, maybe we can make St. Patrick’s Day a national holiday celebrating serpents. Saint Patrick supposedly drove all the snakes out of Ireland, so it seems only fair that we pay the reptiles a little respect.

Down here in the border states, we are also adopting certain Mexican holidays such as the Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos). It is a good way to improve relations between the two nations, as well as a learning experience for us gringos. It is also a great way to foster creativity. Have you seen some of the costumes in those parades?

I don’t know. I still think that if there should be a holiday for any one particular population, it should be for those descendants of the families that came over here on the Mayflower. What a coincidence, I am one of those people! You get my point. We all want to be celebrated, to belong to an exclusive club worthy of honor and respect. We want to be special. You know what? We all are. We are also just ordinary folks who need to get over ourselves.

E-mail Scam Alert

2011-03-21T11:17:00.000-07:00

URGENT: I would rather not devote a blog entry to what I would consider a “Public Service Announcement,” but I have encountered one internet scam twice now that is truly insidious. I do not wish my friends and readers (one and the same I imagine) to become victims of this, so I will outline the nature of the beast in this post.

You may at some point receive an e-mail from a friend’s e-mail address claiming that the person is in London or elsewhere and in need of money. The truly diabolical part of this is that the message is often from someone who you haven’t heard from in months anyway, and are therefore legitimately concerned about. It is truly uncanny how these scam-artists are able to do this.

What has happened is that the e-mail address of your friend, along with their address book, has been hijacked by hackers to serve their nefarious purposes of bilking you out of your cash. This hacking maneuver is called “phishing” (no relation to the band), and the scam is known as an “advance fee fraud.” This scam re-occurs with just enough regularity that you might forget about it.

So, if a friend writes you asking you for monetary help, make sure you contact them by phone or via an alternate e-mail to verify that it really *is* them! I suspect that internet-based e-mail services like Yahoo are at least slightly more vulnerable to this kind of thing. Heaven forbid you should ever get one of these from my Yahoo address….

Should you want to go the extra mile and report one of these in hopes the perpetrators can be apprehended, you might start by visiting this site on consumer fraud reporting.

Taxes

2011-03-17T08:00:00.000-07:00

My tax appointment with H & R Block is looming, and so I can’t help but be reminded of all that I find abhorrent in our tax code. I have to piece together my income as it is, and then I have to face the fact that the government simply doesn’t give a damn about how responsible I am with my earnings. Apparently I don’t deserve many tax breaks because I earn too much for the Earned Income Credit and too little for tax-deferred benefits.

”Life isn’t fair” you say. Fine, but I consider it my civic duty, in fact the very reason for my existence, to make sure that I do my best to make it more fair, more just, more equal. Please allow me to offer modest suggestions for revising basic tax code.

We like to extol the virtue that “charity begins at home,” but you’d be hard-pressed to find that reflected in our tax laws. Apparently my definition of “dependent” is not the same as that of those who wrote that part of the code. I contribute to the welfare of my mother, even though she is not technically my dependent. What I give her helps keep the electricity on and the telephone connected (plus, I call her every Sunday on my own dime). Why don’t I get a break for the money I contribute to her physical welfare? People should be allowed to deduct financial contributions to family members provided they can prove that those dollars were applied to necessities like rent, utilities, medical bills and the like. The relative you help should not have to live under the same roof as you.

Interest income should not be taxed for annual accumulated interest under $2,000. Don’t even get me started on how the Federal Reserve Chairman has essentially rendered savings accounts and certificates of deposit virtually worthless since lowering the interest rate to near zero. When the Internal Revenue Service then applies taxation to that interest, it really is just about zero. Meanwhile, we are encouraged to borrow more, increasing our personal debt. I am sick and tired of being punished for being fiscally responsible.

Crank up luxury taxes, and institute some new ones. I would be all for taxes on junk foods, soda pop, pornography, and other items that arguably do not contribute to our collective welfare (or actively compromise our health and social well-being). Cities should consider instituting a “parking tax” to encourage ridership on public transit and curb the need for more parking structures. Taxes can be a major influence on human behavior, and we should take advantage of that fact in a more creative fashion.

Taxes on “immoral” and self-destructive indulgences should be balanced with tax breaks for constructive purchases such as bicycles, memberships in health clubs, enrollment in cooking classes and other non-credit educational courses.

The largest problem, from my viewpoint, is still the legal evasion of taxation by corporations and irresponsibly wealthy individuals. I often irritate some of my more affluent friends with the latter assertion, but I truly believe that those who work hard and elevate themselves to financial success are in the minority these days. The individuals I am talking about are “trust fund babies” and others who are living chiefly on inherited wealth, and arguably doing little to contribute to the welfare of society as a whole. Unfortunately, they wield tremendous power in all the “right” places, to insure that they will continue to prosper at the highest financial pinnacles.

One man’s (or woman’s) rant is unlikely to do anything but evoke sympathy or ire, so how do we take matters into our own hands? How do we engage constructively to effect change? Even collective movements seem to quickly get labeled and become ineffective. The “Tea Party” will be dying shortly, I assure you.

Tucson Festival of Books

2011-03-14T18:37:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, March 12-13, 2011, I had the pleasure of participating in the third annual Tucson Festival of Books, “Where Words & Imagination Come to Life.” Held on the campus of the University of Arizona, it drew an estimated 100,000 people over the two days.

On Saturday afternoon I was part of a three-person panel, moderated by Justin Schmidt, discussing “Southwest Dangers: Things That Sting, Bite, Poison…and Kill.” Also on the panel was Amy Stewart, author of Wicked Plants, and the soon-to-be-released Wicked Bugs. Scott Calhoun, another resident Tucsonan and garden writer, rounded out our trio.

I was all prepared to hate Amy Stewart for treading on “my” turf with her Wicked Bugs book, but she is actually humble, friendly, and impossible to dislike. No pretense whatsoever, and that also applies to Scott. Once we were finished with the panel discussion and booksigning that followed, we got a head start on the author’s reception at a local bar. Later, we had dinner with Simmons Buntin, founder and editor of the online journal Terrain. I could not have asked for a better day, or better colleagues and companions.

I am not at all sure who decided I belong is this esteemed company, but the organizer of the panel, Jenn Berry of the Pima County Library, was very appreciative of all of us. I know I sure enjoyed the experience, and hope to do more of this kind of thing in the future. I do think I need at least one more book under my belt, though….

Being an audience member is good fun, too! These book festivals offer workshops on writing and publishing, discussions of current events, regional issues, sports, politics, religion, you name it. There was even a cooking demonstration tent at the Tucson Festival of Books, plus lots of exhibit booths by local authors, agencies, and media. C-SPAN brought their bus and broadcast much of the event. Then there is the food!

I highly recommend attending the book festival nearest you, or starting one in your own city.

Serial Unemployment

2011-03-09T20:58:00.000-08:00

If my own recent experience is any indication, then our American economy is going to be in bad shape for a long time to come as far as jobs are concerned. I do believe I am a typical wage-earner, with “some college” and general skills. What has happened since April, 2009, when the division of the corporation I was working for was sold and downsized, is that I have held a series of short-term jobs. I don’t see this trend ending any time soon, either. What we are seeing is “serial unemployment,” whereby people are working, becoming unemployed, then repeating the cycle.

Obviously, this scenario works to no one’s advantage. Employers might as well install turnstiles at the door to the HR department. Workers usually do not enjoy health care coverage and other benefits, including holiday pay, when they are working on short-term assignments. Lack of continuity in employees leaves long-term employees constantly adjusting to the work styles of new personnel. Lack of long-term continuity in one’s employment history makes prospective employers for permanent jobs question the applicant’s commitment to a given employer.

I have, in the past, worked as a temporary employee, and that is, of course, the ultimate in serial employment and unemployment. It gets old very quickly, and anyone who is the least bit observant of their temp assignments learns just how screwed up work ethics have become. The less work I did, the more I earned. The harder, longer, tougher assignments rarely compensated well. What was even more frightening was the kind of assignments we received. Would you want a “temp” working on your bank accounts? I did that. Banks seem to use temps more than other businesses, in fact. I also worked at evaluating home loan applications, ensuring government compliance.

Back to the main point I’m making: We can’t support lots of out-of-work people over the long haul. We need to be creating permanent jobs, and a diversity of jobs in a variety of industries, not just service industries. We need to invest in creative industries, too, such as the arts, writing, publishing….and yes, I know I’m being self-serving in focusing on industries where I actually have something to offer.

Why not go back to school and….a) get a degree b) get another degree or c) enhance and improve your “skill set?” That is all well and good as a suggestion, but you are asking a person to do something else when you ask them to enroll: go into debt. The absolute last thing anybody needs to be doing right now is to accrue more debt. That is largely what got us into economic trouble to begin with.

The Federal Reserve Chairman needs to start increasing interest rates. We need to reward savers instead of just paying lip service to the ethic of saving. We need to discourage lending through higher rates so that there is less default (poorer borrowers thinking twice before accepting terms on a loan they might not be able to repay).

Oh, did I mention that at my current position, working part-time, I actually still qualify for unemployment benefits while I’m working? How ridiculous is that? Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go back to the phone, where I’ve been waiting on hold for about twenty minutes for an unemployment claims agent to explain to me why the internet site is not accepting my attempts to file for this week….

Rodeo

2011-02-25T21:53:00.000-08:00

I do not like the Tucson Rodeo, but not for the reasons you might suspect. While the event draws its share of animal rights activists in protest, it throws a wrench in the day-to-day life of those who do not take in the parade as participants or spectators. The parade has also been visited by tragedies.

Those who are real rodeo snobs refer to the rodeo by its Spanish title, La Fiesta de los Vaqueros. The parade has been going for 86 years now, and is supposedly the longest non-motorized parade in the continental United States. So “popular” is the parade that Tucson closes schools, from elementary to the University of Arizona for at least the parade day (Thursday), if not the day after as well. Some local businesses also close, which means if you have errands planned you could be out of luck.

Unfortunately, those who go to watch the parade have occasionally been witness to disaster. In 2006, the buggy carrying the Mayor and his wife was rammed by a horse pulling another wagon. The Mayor had a bruised arm, but his wife suffered whiplash and a concussion and had to be taken to the hospital. The following year, a five-year old girl riding in the parade was thrown from her horse and then trampled to death by horses pulling a stagecoach. Complicating matters was the fact that by rule she should not have been allowed to ride in the first place. Children eight years and older are the only ones permitted to ride on their own mounts.

What about the cruelty to animals employed in the actual events of the rodeo itself? Here is where I part ways a bit with the animal rights community. My feeling is that the greater crime has already been committed, centuries ago when we domesticated these beasts and compromised their genetics forever. Selective breeding has made them human creations. What we do after that is at most adding insult to injury. They may still be “sentient beings,” but barely. There is little elegance to a cow, especially when compared to a truly wild ungulate.

Surely I can’t feel the same way about horses! Well, they technically have no place here at all: The Spaniards brought them to North America. Wild mustangs are not wild, they are feral, and do not deserve the same consideration at the truly wild mammals with which they compete for habitat and forage. I am not about to advocate sending them all to the glue factory, but what we need is a dedicated range for a small population. Make it the “Wild Mustang National Wildlife Refuge” or something, but get them concentrated so bison, elk, and other such wildlife can have the landscape that is rightfully theirs.

I remember attending a rodeo as a child in Oregon. I wasn’t that impressed, though I do recall that cowboy Larry Mahan was something of a star, perhaps because he was born in Salem, Oregon. There is no doubt that these men (and women) are athletes, as are today’s ranchers who scratch out a living on the range. The rodeo may simply not be the way to celebrate the buckaroo any longer.

Surprise!

2011-02-21T21:27:00.000-08:00

It was a normal end of the day routine: go to the bus stop, wait. Glance up to see what birds are on the wires overhead at the corner of Grant Road and Alvernon Way in central Tucson, Arizona, hoping the time will pass more quickly. Saw a lone bird atop a utility pole. You know how you have those conversations with yourself, trying to talk yourself into one identification versus another? Well, mine went something like this:

Me: “It must be another pigeon. Has to be.”
Myself: “But it’s so white, and it looks a little bigger than the other Rock Doves across the street.”
Me: “Nah, it’s just all puffed up, showing off, you know.”
I: “What is it doing all by itself, then?”
Me: “Well, it’s too small to be a hawk if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Myself: “You’ve got your camera with you, zoom in on it.”
Me: “I’d have to get it out of my backpack, and out of the case….Oh, here comes the bus anyway.”
I: “I guess we’ll never know now….”

I boarded the bus, and once inside still looked longingly out the window at the mystery bird that surely must be a Rock Dove with an inflated ego. Then my thoughts were interrupted…..

Bus Driver to another passenger: “Do you need to use the lift?”
Me: “Well, if we’re going to be here another three minutes boarding this person, I might as well train my camera on that silly bird….”
SFX: Unpacking camera, turning it on, zooming in….click, click, click.

I then reviewed the images, zooming in on the white blob in the middle of the picture….

Me: “What the….No way!....Are you kidding me?!

I could hardly believe what I was seeing, but it soon became undeniably obvious that the “pigeon” was an adult Peregrine Falcon.

Me (audibly, to the other passengers as I clicked away): “That’s a falcon on top of that light pole out there.”
Bus passengers in reply: Ok, pretty much crickets chirping….

Peregrine falcons are not exceptionally rare in Tucson, so seeing one is not necessarily cause for celebration all by itself, but this incident taught me something about myself: I shouldn’t dismiss the careful observations of Me, and I should listen to Myself more when he pesters Me to look a little more closely, verify my suspicions, and satisfy My curiosity. Trust your own instincts, too. It could pay off with a sweet surprise!

Urban Wildlife in the News

2011-02-17T08:00:00.000-08:00

The subject of urban wildlife has always been near and dear to my heart because of my own experiences with various birds, mammals, herps, and invertebrates in the various cities where I have lived. I am delighted that more focus is being directed to our wild neighbors lately, as evidenced by a couple of articles brought to my attention recently by friends on Facebook.

Dr. Douglas Tallamy, a professor at the University of Delaware, made ”A Call For Backyard Biodiversity” in a recent issue of American Forests. The article is a condensed version of Tallamy’s brilliant book, Bringing Nature Home, where he makes the case for landscaping with native plants. He then articulates a strategy for creating wildlife corridors by linking backyard habitats.

Another recent article in the New York Times highlights the surprising diversity of mammals and birds to be found in both urban areas and natural forests. The surprising subject of this study is the Fisher, a large mammal in the weasel family that had for decades been on the decline due to excessive trapping and conversion of its habitat to agriculture and subdivisions. A secretive predator, it is apparently now adapting to human presence and reclaiming some of its historical distribution patterns.

All this causes me to reminisce about the days when I was part of a volunteer team at the Audubon Society of Portland (Oregon) that worked together to publish a quarterly magazine called The Urban Naturalist. I joined the effort in about 1984 at the invitation of the editor, Mike Houck. Mike was already a friend and mentor, so I welcomed the chance to contribute to what became an award-winning journal. I wrote and illustrated articles on insects, and occasionally short pieces on a specific park or greenspace.

The Urban Naturalist frequently had themes for a particular issue, so I wasn’t always able to get a story in, but I always felt respected and welcomed at editorial meetings. Eventually the “staff” all went our separate ways and the publication ceased to exist. It was not soon to be forgotten, though.

In the late 1990s, the Oregon Historical Society approached us with the idea of compiling some of our best essays in a book. Wild in the City: A Guide to Portland’s Natural Areas was published in 2000. I was honored to have several of my stories included, and also some new illustrations to complement articles authored by other people.

At some point I will be sharing some of those old stories in this blog and my “Bug Eric” blog. I also hope to make available species lists for insects and arachnids I have observed and collected in Portland, Cincinnati, and Tucson. I encourage my readers to do the same. Your observations over time can be of great significance. The National Phenology Network can certainly make good use of them.

Men, Women, and Breasts

2011-02-14T08:00:00.000-08:00

The other night I received a call from a breast cancer awareness organization asking for a monetary donation. I did not comply, though I have donated to this cause in the past and will certainly do so again when I feel I have a more sound footing as far as my personal finances go. It got me thinking, though, that I don’t see many, if any, appeals by breast cancer foundations directed toward men.

Let’s face it: Men like breasts. Men like women. Men have money they too often spend more freely on lingerie, pornography, and other indulgences of a sexual nature that don’t benefit their female partners, let alone women in general. We really are idiots in this regard. We need to take responsibility for our carnal desires in many ways, but supporting women’s health should be at the top of the priority list.

I think there are several ways to go about achieving this goal.

Create a Valentine’s Day fundraising campaign whereby men can donate various amounts in the name of loved one’s to breast cancer research, prevention, and treatment.
Every Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show from here on in will have the models sporting pink ribbons (….somewhere) with a hotline number at the bottom of the television screen that ogling men can call to pledge a donation for breast health education and cancer research and treatment.
Implement a “Pornography Tax” on all forms of porn, plus sex toys and the like, the proceeds of which will go to a variety of causes, including research and treatment of breast cancer, ovarian cancer, cervical cancer, sexually-transmitted diseases, and the prevention of sexual violence, prostitution, sex-trafficking, and other intolerable conditions affecting women.
The Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue will now include all models wearing pink ribbons (….somewhere), plus heavy public service advertising for breast cancer awareness.
Playboy gets some balls (sorry) and puts a pink ribbon around the neck of its bunny logo. It also devotes more ad space to breast cancer awareness and sexual responsibility in general. This should be a relatively easy sell since there are women in positions of power at Playboy Enterprises.
Require Clear Channel and other billboard advertising corporations to provide one month of free public service advertising to breast cancer awareness and/or women’s health issues in general.

Come on, guys, you probably have even more ideas for fundraising and education. We all have mothers, lovers, wives, sisters, and other women in our lives. What better way to honor them than to support causes that can improve the lives of women everywhere?

NOTE: Image courtesy of ”BingeAndPurge”. Thank you.

The Downside of "Citizen Science"

2011-02-09T11:06:00.000-08:00

I realize that what I am about to write will probably offend even some of my most loyal followers, but it needs to be said. Natural history museums, zoos, nature centers, parks, and other public and private institutions have come to rely too heavily on volunteers to accomplish their missions, especially in management of specimen collections.

Case in point: Today one of my Facebook friends posted this recruiting announcement. I was all excited until I saw it was for volunteers. Do you really want non-professionals handling specimens? The time and expense to properly train them really outweighs hiring a professional? You can’t contract for this kind of work?

Those institutions that do offer paying opportunities sometimes have unrealistic expectations, desiring PhD- or Masters-level candidates when a Bachelor’s degree, or even experience in lieu of a degree, would be more than enough to execute the requirements of the position. Increasingly, work in collections management in particular has become grant-dependent, for a limited amount of time, and still heavily reliant on volunteers being managed by the person hired for the project. This only serves to set up a destructive cycle of neglect of collections followed by salvaging of specimens years later, followed by another period of neglect and so on.

I freely admit that I take all of this as a personal insult to my previous professional experience and current abilities to work in a museum setting and advance the goals of whatever department I’m working in. I don’t think I am necessarily “better” than any other person in this field, but I certainly have better qualifications than a volunteer or docent off the street. Museums deserve better than that as well. I don’t need to make a fortune, either, but I need to be able to pay the rent, afford health care if I need it, pay for my own continuing education, and save for increasingly frequent stretches of unemployment when I don’t have any income.

That leads to another point I believe is not being considered: The failure of investments that retirees were counting on for income has left them looking for paying work as well. The volunteer pool will be steadily shrinking in coming decades. Better to address this now, and reward good work with a paycheck instead of just a pat on the back or a plaque.

The continuing devaluation of professional personnel in the natural sciences, from museum collections to field work and public education must cease. We owe it to current generations, as well as future generations, to deliver the high quality services that only experienced professionals can provide. Could it be that the trend toward “anti-scientifism” is one result of such a heavy reliance on non-scientists to do scientific work and deliver science education? I’m just sayin’.

Risk

2011-02-01T08:00:00.000-08:00

Living on Earth is a risky business. The planet is full of natural hazards, and manmade hazards pose even more threats to life and limb. Unfortunately, American culture seems to approach the concept of risk without one wit of rationality. The results include a ridiculously litigious society, proliferation of gambling establishments, and increasingly poor management of parks. We desperately need a re-assessment of what defines risk, liability, and responsibility.

It may help to categorize different types of risks. I have taken the liberty of making up my own categories simply to illustrate important points about each type. Here they are, in no particular order:

Stupid Risk. These are risks that each individual has a choice in making, and most are what one could call “recreational” in nature. Examples might include extreme sports, gambling (from casino games to bingo to the state lottery), and investment in the stock market. Astonishingly, American culture glorifies this type of behavior. We even televise the “Winter X Games” and Jackass. States not only participate in multi-state lottery games, but actively advertise them. At least some advertisements for investment firms include disclaimers when it comes to their guarantees of success.
Imposed Risk. This is the kind of risk that I find most offensive. It encompasses mostly corporate activity whereby the risks are largely borne by the people least likely to be able to comprehend and fight them. It also imposes risks to the environment. Mining and hazardous waste disposal are two obvious examples of this kind of risk. Factory farming may be another. Some might consider genetically modified organisms (especially food crops) to be in this category. Wendell Berry has consistently made eloquent arguments for why we should be intolerant to such practices, citing in his many essays the problem of “absentee ownership” of land by corporations. The impact of a coal mine, for example, is felt at the site, by the rural population that lives there, not by the corporate executives in far-off urban locales.
Insurable Risk. These are the risks with which we are perhaps most familiar, at least at a personal level. It applies to life, health, property, and vehicles, as well as to potential disasters such as fire, theft, and flooding. Ok, maybe not flooding these days. We can get “coverage” to be able to recoup our losses in the event of some kind of traumatic event. It mostly applies to material goods you will notice, and you might not be able to get insurance for your own health should you have a “pre-existing condition.” Such cases are usually beyond one’s control, determined generations prior through genes. Wonderful.
Legal Risk. This kind of risk is largely defined by the question “Can I be sued for that?” We are collectively intolerant of the most improbable of potential accidents; and conversely eager to file a lawsuit over event outcomes for which we abdicate our own responsibility. We apparently agree that “stupid risks” are completely acceptable, even to be encouraged, whereas “legal risks” are totally unacceptable and must be prevented from occurring at all costs, literally and figuratively.

Our entire society appears to be liability-driven these days. I see the effects of this in the changing landscape of our urban parks. Here in Tucson, Arizona, we frequently use agave plants in landscaping along roadsides, on college campuses, and other public areas. These succulents are also known as “century plants” because they bloom so infrequently. When they do, they send up a very tall, dense flower spike crowned with glorious golden blossoms that make the long wait for the floral fireworks worthwhile. The bigger the plant, the taller and more spectacular the central spike. Unfortunately, the taller the spike, the more potentially top-heavy it can be. Guess what. At the first hint of instability, the landscapers hack down the spike. Frequently they uproot the entire plant. This is happening in an increasingly pre-emptive fashion whereby the plant doesn’t even get the chance to bloom beyond green buds.

When I lived in Cincinnati, Ohio in the 1990s, I found the same approach to dead standing timber. God forbid that one of these boles might topple over onto a hiker, or, worse yet, somebody’s vehicle. Too bad that cutting down the potential Tree Trunk of Doom renders homeless cavity-nesting birds, countless insects, mushrooms and other fungi, mosses, and other organisms essential to forest ecosystem health. How about filling in the *$#@! Groundhog holes instead?

The warning sign pictured at the top of this post is in the Sabino Canyon Recreation Area just north of Tucson where mountain lions are seen with some degree of regularity. The increasing pressure of urban development from the south met the devastation of the Aspen fire from the north back in 2003. There was suddenly nowhere for far-ranging mountain lions to go, and three cats were frequenting Sabino Canyon a year later (see this link for more). Last time I checked, nobody was forced to go hiking, jogging, running, or site-seeing in Sabino Canyon, yet the improbable risk of a mountain lion attack was deemed unacceptable. The first suggested course of action was to kill the cats. This was met with such hostility that Arizona Game & Fish officials had to quickly retract the plan. The Recreation Area was subsequently closed for a brief time and at least one cat was captured and turned over to a wildlife rehabilitation center near Phoenix.

We must ask ourselves what is truly unacceptable risk, and learn to start tolerating random acts of nature that are beyond our control. Don’t venture out if it isn’t worth the risk to you, but don’t punish the rest of us. I’ll happily sign a waiver for the chance to brave prowling pumas at Sabino Canyon.

Gun Control

2011-01-24T23:33:00.000-08:00

The commentary on the shooting spree in Tucson earlier this month has naturally led to a debate about stricter gun control. My personal opinion is that I am far more afraid of some members of my own species than I am any of the venomous, predatory creatures I may encounter on a hike in an Arizona canyon, or on an African safari. That is not even counting weaponry that makes the exercise of lethal force even more possible for Homo sapiens. I think we need to remember that we are animals ourselves, but that we also have the capacity for foresight, personal responsibility, self-control, and honest communication.

I don’t see the abolishment of personal firearms coming any time soon, but I am also not understanding why people are so up in arms about the Second Amendment at this point in our nation’s history. We already have well-armed militias, they just happen to be mostly racist survivalists. Don’t you feel safer now?

Why do we feel the need to obtain a gun on a moment’s notice? We want a waiting period before a woman undergoes an abortion, but you should be able to get a gun instantaneously? Forgive me, but this is the scenario I see playing out too often:

Gun Shop Owner: “Ok, I see from the background check you haven’t committed any crimes…”
Customer (to himself): “No, this will be my first offense.”

We cannot assume that lack of a prior crime means the person is not preparing to commit one, be it suicide, homicide, or some other act of violence. Purchasing a weapon can be a highly impulsive action, and it should not be accommodated so readily when the consequences could literally be so grave.

Psychiatric evaluation should be mandatory for anyone wanting to purchase a firearm. The more time allowed for intervention, anger management, and prescribed medication, the better. Stress, real or imagined, is arguably at an all-time high, and the answer is not putting guns in the hands of the angry and frustrated.

But if everyone was able to defend themselves (with a gun), then crimes like the Tucson shooting would not take such a heavy toll. Someone would have shot the bad guy already. Sure, but a citizen “hero” could just as easily kill another innocent bystander. We have a trained constabulary to kill innocent Black people….I mean….apprehend criminals. Sorry, I spent eleven years in Cincinnati….

Further, the overwhelming impression I get from gun advocates is that they want guns to allow them to protect the rest of their “stuff.” You won’t hear that argument from the gun lobby, though, because it sounds too selfish. Well, we are selfish, for crying out loud. Every animal is selfish, we just go to great lengths to disguise our selfishness. This dishonesty, I believe, is at the root of most social issues in the world today. We want our way, but can’t bring ourselves to say so in the most honest, straightforward manner.

Do you remember the Y2K scare? It was going to be a manmade disaster with all the computers crashing and causing total chaos. Even some people I truly admire were talking about stocking up and arming themselves “just in case.” Why? We don’t react that way to a natural disaster like a tornado, hurricane, or earthquake. Heck, we put down our guns, and pick up shovels and sandbags instead. What is the difference? You lose “stuff” in any kind of catastrophe!

The bottom line as I see it is that we need mostly to admit our selfishness. I want fewer guns because I’m sick of good people getting murdered and maimed, and I really don’t see an upside to more weapons. I am also seeing less merit in the accumulation of material wealth all the time. We need to share more, possess less. Above all we need to re-establish trust in one another. Where do you stand? Please comment. The only thing I ask is that you be honest.

It Really is a Jungle in There

2011-01-23T08:00:00.000-08:00

Note: I originally wrote this piece for the newsletter that goes to our volunteers in the Butterfly Magic exhibit at the Tucson Botanical Gardens.

I tend to think of the tropical greenhouse at the Tucson Botanical Gardens as home to the tropical plants and butterflies we propagate and import here, but something happened a few weeks ago to remind me again that we don’t always determine what lives and grows inside that hothouse.

I noticed a butterfly sitting awkwardly on that artificial tree in the center of the room. At first I thought it was a female Postman longwing laying eggs. There was what appeared to be a cluster of pale objects beneath her. On closer inspection it became clear that a little jumping spider had caught the colorful butterfly. I had figured that given their size, jumping spiders (family Salticidae) were rather benign predators in the greenhouse, and were providing mobile pest control services by nabbing flies, small cockroaches, and other nuisance bugs. I should have known better.

Jumping spiders have perhaps the keenest vision of all land invertebrates, and strength to match. I have seen them literally tackle flies that were larger than they were. Jumpers hunt “on foot” instead of spinning webs, actively stalking potential prey then pouncing. That jumper with the butterfly would be about equal to you hanging by your heels while holding a sofa.

Jumping spiders are not the only uninvited guests in our butterfly exhibit. I have seen these other organisms as well:

Acrobat Ants, genus Crematogaster
American Cockroach, Periplaneta Americana (boo!)
Cockroach Egg Parasitoid Wasp, Evania appendigaster (yay!)
Greenhouse Millipede, Oxidus gracilis
Marbled Cellar Spider, Holocnemus pluchei
Cobweb weaver spider, Theridion sp. (“sp.” means “species” when the species is unknown)
Feather-legged spider, Uloborus diversus (or a close kin, top picture above)
Woodlouse, Armadillidium vulgare (aka “Roly-poly” or “Pillbug”)
Yellow Fever Mosquito, Aedes aegypti (for an authentic jungle experience!)
Tropical House Cricket, Gryllodes sigillatus (pictured below)
Long-tailed Mealybug, Pseudococcus longispinus (most likely species anyway)
Pomace Fly, Drosophila melanogaster (aka “Laboratory Fruit Fly”)
Brown Garden Snail, Cornu aspersum
Webspinner, Oligotoma nigra

There are some creatures we still haven’t seen, but that we know inhabit the place. Take for example the “mystery creature” that for awhile was taking bites out of the giant hibiscus buds just prior to their blooming. Now it would appear the little rascal has switched to lapping up the honey water out of the butterfly feeders (and leaving its poop behind. How thoughtful).

All of this illustrates several principles we should take home with us: We can’t control or even “manage” nature, much as we would like to think we can. All creatures have their place, and while we might not like all of them we need to acknowledge their presence and accept their role as predator, herbivore, or decomposer. Life is abundant and diverse, and the more we practice patience, and hone our powers of observation, the more of it we can see.

What's your sign (now)?

2011-01-16T14:52:00.000-08:00

Ironically, I learned of the new zodiac sign (Ophiuchus) on my birthday last week. Suddenly, I was no longer a Capricorn, but a Sagittarius. It was pretty much the icing on the cake of an awful day. Subsequently, it was interesting to follow the threads of conversation on the “status posts” of my Facebook friends concerning this new bit of trivial information.

Some people are very indignant, or even downright angry, at the change in the zodiac calendar. Others wonder aloud what all the fuss is about, communicating their opinion in a rather condescending manner that suggests anyone who follows astrology is beneath them. I strongly suspect most of the people I know fall squarely in the middle: astrology is a pleasant and occasional diversion not to be taken too seriously, but that helps remind one to take stock of their life now and then.

Belief in astrology is almost beside the point as I see it. The zodiac is, or was, like death and taxes: something predictable and common to all people. It is part of our social fabric, dependable even in its frivolity. It can stimulate a conversation, much like “What weather we’re having!” or “How ‘bout them (insert sports team here)?” The zodiac calendar has boundaries, rules, and suddenly all of that has been thrown out of whack.

I will readily admit reading my horoscope, usually when I blunder into it while reading a newspaper like our local alternative paper, the Tucson Weekly. I find the “Free Will Astrology” column by Rob Brezsny to be entertaining but also thought-provoking on a personal level. I may rarely take any action recommended in his horoscopes, but I feel at least a little more self-aware and introspective as a result of reading them.

Interestingly, Brezsny calls the recent announcement of the new sign a “scam” that resurfaces almost annually based on the assumption that astrology is associated with the constantly changing positions of stars in distant constellations. Not so, says Brezsny, who points out that (here on planet Earth, at least) astrology revolves around the position of the sun and planets in our own solar system. The zodiac signs were named for constellations, but are no longer tied to them.

It is probably only human nature to cling to things we feel are constant because so much of the world around us changes continually, ever faster. We seek philosophies, religions, and other institutions to ground us in these times of uncertainty. I generally find my horoscope neither positive nor negative, but empowering. It reminds me I always have the opportunity to change, to adapt, to ground myself in….myself.

Tragedy in Tucson

2011-01-09T18:01:00.000-08:00

I feel somewhat obligated to comment on the recent mass shooting incident in Tucson being that I am a current resident, and have briefly met Representative Giffords. My local friends and I are shocked, saddened, and outraged by this event, but I’ll stick largely with the facts here.

First, let us not minimize the fact that six people have already perished. Among them were a federal judge, John M. Roll, and a nine-year-old girl, Christina-Taylor Green. Congresswoman Giffords was staging one of her routine “Congress on Your Corner” events at a local strip mall, and Judge Roll had merely swung by on his way home to pay his friend a brief visit. The young girl, in irony of all ironies, had gained fame as one of the Faces of Hope, featured in the book of that title about babies born on September 11, 2001.

Additional fatalities included Giffords’ Constituent Services Director, Gabe Zimmerman, retirees Dorwan Stoddard, Dorthy Murray, and Phyllis Schneck. Twenty individuals in all were wounded. The good news is that four out of the five people on the critical list last night have now been upgraded to “serious.”

Gabrielle Giffords herself remains in critical condition, but a Sunday morning press conference held by the doctors and surgeons who are treating her was filled with optimism. Miraculously, her injuries involved only one hemisphere of her brain. Before and after surgery she was able to respond to simple commands (squeeze my hand, show two fingers, etc), which considering the gravity of her condition is nothing short of amazing.

I was giving a presentation at the Medical Entomology Today conference here in Tucson when this calamity happened. My topic was “Social Media and Self-Diagnosis: How the Internet has Made Medical Entomology Better and Worse.” While I was describing how electronic technologies are changing how the public gets information, members of my audience were receiving text messages about the tragedy. Politely, no one interrupted my talk.

When I was informed of the event my heart was in my throat. I had the honor and pleasure of meeting Representative Giffords when she attended the “Butterfly Affaire” fundraiser at the Tucson Botanical Gardens back in October. She was her usual smiling self, and I helped her find butterflies which she eagerly shared with her family and other members of her entourage. This woman goes out of her way to find opportunities to mingle with her constituents, and never gives the impression that anyone is beneath her. She could care less about your political affiliation, but cares deeply about your physical (read healthcare) and economic well-being.

I’m not going to devote one word to the gunman, you can find that out for yourself if you wish.

What continues to disturb me is the direction our American society is taking. One could make the argument that we are a devolving species, going backwards in our cultural evolution at the least. We are literally our own worst enemies, filling the roles of competitors, parasites, and predators once occupied by other organisms during the course of our divergence from the rest of the great apes. Clearly, we have the capacity to hold in check our destructive instincts and tendencies and behave instead in an altruistic manner that ultimately benefits us as individuals. We are increasingly choosing not to do that. We no longer have patience. We must have things “our” way, right now.

We also have more weapons at our disposal for forcing others to comply with our whims, or to destroy our (perceived) adversaries. We need to scale down our definition of “weapons of mass destruction.” Obviously, an automatic handgun qualifies.

There was a blood drive today at the two Red Cross donation centers, in honor of the fallen from yesterday’s tragedy. I didn’t go, figuring the facilities would be swamped (and buses run infrequently on Sundays, affecting my ability to get to and from the nearest location). I am overdue for donating, though, and will likely do so later in the coming week. It is a nice, tangible gesture to affirm life in general. Self-sacrifice, whether it takes the form of sharing one’s blood voluntarily, parting with money for a good cause, or some other act, is just the remedy for what ails us as a society so self-obsessed. Find a way to sacrifice, and do it regularly. Watch the positive chain reaction.

A Couple of "Wild" Ideas

2010-12-28T08:00:00.000-08:00

When I lived in Cincinnati in the 1990s I learned of a truly unique enterprise aimed at helping research biologists in developing countries. I was reminded of this just the other day when I was made aware of another such effort through a different organization. The holiday gift-giving season seems a perfect time indeed to let you all in on these two secrets.

Idea Wild is a non-profit organization founded in 1991 by Wally Van Sickle. Since that time the non-governmental organization has grown steadily in the number of projects it has facilitated, the number of developing nations it has established relationships with, and in the dollars donated to its cause. That cause is to furnish field, laboratory, and office equipment to research conservationists for use in their native lands.

There are myriad ways you can help Idea Wild continue its mission, but chief among them are donating dollars and your (gently) used equipment. If you think I’m a good salesman for this outfit, you should meet Wally! He has inexhaustible enthusiasm for the projects he undertakes (or, rather, the projects being conducted by those wildlife biologists in their native countries). He campaigns tirelessly on their behalf and the results have been phenomenal. Please check out the Idea Wild website, “like” them on Facebook, and tweet away on Twitter.

”Cameras for Conservation” is a campaign of Reptile and Amphibian Ecology International, another non-profit with a wildlife conservation mission. I became familiar with them, and their founder, Paul S. Hamilton, at the Tucson Reptile Show back in September. Paul is an awesome photographer in his own right, but he is just as excited about fostering the work of other field photographers. He has also captured the power of the web (Reptiles and Amphibians.org) and social media.

I know I’m going to see what materials I can donate to these two fantastic enterprises, and I hope you will, too. I can’t think of a better way to empower scientists in other lands.

Treats

2010-12-21T18:36:00.000-08:00

Berries encased in ice,
Frozen delights on a stick
That children lick,
But without synthetic spice
Berries embedded in ice,
Frozen delights on a stick
That birds can't pick,
But other seeds will suffice

Our Eco-econo Logical Survival

2010-12-06T18:48:00.000-08:00

Last night I made sure to watch 60 Minutes because of the advertised interview with Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg, but it was the conversation between Scott Pelley and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke that got my attention. Homo sapiens is perhaps unique in not only having to address its ecological survival, but also its economic survival. After hearing Bernanke’s prognostication for our immediate financial future, I’m beginning to wonder if we are not in peril on the economic front as well as the climatological one.

I have to say that I trust Ben Bernanke to not make dishonest statements about short-term and long-range economic forecasts as he perceives them. That is why it was truly sobering to learn that he does not anticipate any great decrease in the unemployment rate for a minimum of four or five years. From the perspective of our American society at large, I am confident we can weather the storm and doldrums, but on an individual level I am feeling a bit shaky.

My part-time employment will end around the first week of May, 2011, and the unemployment compensation that is supplementing that income will no doubt expire even sooner. Having only a high school diploma does not heighten my chances of re-employment at any meaningful wage, as Bernanke mentioned in his interview.

When Scott Pelley pointed out that the gap between the rich and the poor in the U.S. is the greatest it has been in some time, Bernanke laid the blame largely on a disparity in education levels. For those with a college degree, unemployment is about 5%, said Bernanke, adding that unemployment is almost double that for people with only a high school diploma. While I personally think this is mostly a sorry excuse for an explanation of inequitable distribution of wealth, the implicit message was even more disheartening and unrealistic, if not irresponsible.

Bernanke’s apparent solution for the unemployed and underemployed is to go back to school and get new skills or enhance existing ones. In other words: go into debt to get ahead. This is in part what got us into trouble in the first place: personal debt. No worries, Bernanke plans to keep the lid on low interest rates, encouraging borrowing (while rendering savings accounts, Certificates of Deposit, and other responsible financial behavior worthless).

I am by no means an economist. I didn’t even do very well in that course in college. All I know is that the current banking establishment and financial administration reigning from the Fed are *not* operating in my best interests. Literally! Interest on my savings is appallingly low. There are no products that keep my assets liquid in case of emergency, while offering any kind of return on my investment….but I digress.

Most people cannot afford to return to school in any sense of the word. They can’t afford it financially, and they can’t afford the time out of the workforce (though most adult students work at least part-time while going to school, this wears one out physically, emotionally, and intellectually). We need to resurrect an apprenticeship approach to re-employment. The “guilds” of the Renaissance sound mighty appealing about now. The idea that one could produce something meaningful and useful while accruing new skills is also what the old WPA was all about. We need a “new” New Deal.

This is where we could also address our ecological survival. Train people to produce and install solar panels, rainwater harvesting cisterns, and other sustainable technologies that lead to a more sustainable, less consumer-oriented society. Make peace profitable. Hire defense contractors to begin disarming our nuclear weapons. Start with the hair-trigger ICBMs that still loom in silos, one false-alarm away from throwing us into nuclear winter. Make community gardens a priority so that neighborhoods can take back ownership of their diet, nutrition, and food quality. Build affordable housing. We can have a bright future, but we might have to buck the system to achieve some of it. The finances will follow, though, as our collective will prevails.

Full disclosure: I am personally debt-free, have no credit cards, and do not own a private vehicle. I rent an apartment. I have an account at a bank and a credit union. Were ATMs more convenient through the credit union, I would not have an account at a commercial bank.

WOW Arizona and The Oasis B and B

2010-12-02T23:39:00.000-08:00

Back on October 3, I was invited to help lead a nature walk at the Oasis Bed & Breakfast (also known as "WOW Arizona" for Wild Outdoor World). This little gem is located in unincorporated Tucson, Arizona, just east and north of Oro Valley. Christopher J. (C J) Vincent and MaryEllen Troy Landen run this establishment, a true haven for Sonoran Desert wildlife.

The Oasis manages to cater to a wide variety of clientele, from mountain bikers to amateur naturalists. The grounds are a virtual Eden and the hosts know every resident plant and animal. The water and flowers (mostly native, some ornamental) attract an enormous diversity of wildlife from butterflies to birds and mammals, making it a great place to become familiar with Sonoran Desert flora and fauna while being as comfortable or adventurous as you would like to be.

C J picked me up after work on October 2, so I got to have dinner and stay the night, too. I like the cozy, "contemporary-rustic" feel of their home. The decor includes spectacular images of the wildlife seen and photographed by C J on the scenic grounds. I slept like a baby, and woke up to.....

More food! C J and MaryEllen are very conscious of the differing nutritional needs of their guests. I'm lactose intolerant and they had lactose-free milk. That never happens! The entrees are delicious, a great treat for a "meat and potatoes" guy like me, yet still "gourmet," just not pretentious. Pleasing folks with your menu is a tough task, but The Oasis does so perfectly. Outside the dining room the bird feeders were drawing a variety of fine feathered friends, like this Curve-billed Thrasher.

A little searching revealed one of their resident rattlesnakes, Cartman. He’s quite a heroic specimen of a Western Diamondback. Most of the organisms on the premises are not nearly as dangerous as this, but I like the fact that C J and MaryEllen welcome all forms of life, not just the cute, cuddly, and charismatic (though I personally find rattlesnakes to be quite charismatic in their own right).

C J recently acquired non-profit status for WOW Arizona, so it is now a certified environmental education organization. They hosted a class from Pima Community College a week before our October nature walk, and C J was still raving about the transformation of the students from urbanites a bit intimidated by the wild desert to fascinated people anxious to learn more.

I heartily recommend The Oasis B & B to anyone visiting southern Arizona who wants to avoid crowded parks, see wildlife up close, and enjoy captivating conversations with the proprietors over a great meal. You can get an online introduction at the WOW Arizona website and blog, and follow C J’s posts on Facebook, too. Check it out!

Rea Farm ("The Beanery")

2010-11-27T21:21:00.000-08:00

I have to thank Abigail Parker for her intimate knowledge of all the best places to go for birds and insects in the Cape May region of New Jersey. One of my favorite stops was at the Rea Farm, where we visited on October 17 of this year.

Actually, I should also thank Abby for letting Heidi Genter and myself be her guests, since Rea Farm is only open to members of the New Jersey Audubon Society. The site was once a working lima bean farm, hence the local name of “The Beanery.” The idle remains of the huge lima been shucking machines are a landmark for the parking area at the entrance to the birding area. They look like covered bridges to nowhere.

Property owners Les and Diane Rea decided to lease visitation rights to the Cape May Bird Observatory (a project of New Jersey Audubon) beginning in 1999, in the wake of sharply falling demand for lima beans. They also grow flowers, and run a nearby farmstand where you can purchase local fruits and vegetables.

The Beanery comprises 82 acres and is located near the very center of Cape Island. It is consistently the warmest place on the isle in late autumn. Migrating birds may linger there longer, among the fields, hedgerows, and swampy woodlands. The three fields, ringed with tractor paths, are the centerpiece of the farm. Several species of sparrows frequent the tall grass and autumn aster flowers, providing a real challenge for birders.

Then there are the raptors. Hawks, vultures, and even eagles like the immature Bald Eagle above can be seen daily over the fields as they rise on thermals in the afternoon. The unobscured skies over the fields and parking area afford great views of the soaring birds.

There is no shortage of insects, either, particularly Buckeye butterflies, their caterpillars, and chrysalids. At least they were very abundant during our visit.

Dragonflies forage over the fields as well, including the Common Green Darner, and Carolina Saddlebags (below).

The crops that are still grown feed grasshoppers as well as people, and while this Carolina Grasshopper found them tasty, I’m sure that such insects are not welcomed!

Rea Farm is yet another gem among the seemingly endless jewels that are Cape May birding areas. I can hardly wait to go back and visit during another season, to see what else calls the area home.

The Avalon Sea Watch

2010-11-23T23:08:00.000-08:00

The Cape May area of New Jersey has an abundance of birdwatching activities during the fall migrations. One of the best is the Avalon Sea Watch held in the town of Avalon. The watch is on from September 22 to December 22 every year, and is operated by the Cape May Bird Observatory.

Abigail Parker, Heidi Genter, and myself visited the sea wall site of the seabird tally on October 16, 2010. We arrived just in time for a presentation by a volunteer from New Jersey Audubon. He described how to identify the more common seabirds. Believe it or not, you can identify many birds by the flight formation of their flocks, and how high off the water or horizon they fly. A diagram on an easel offered a visual aid as the guide described the silhouettes and behavior of the various birds.

Right in front of us, on the rocky jetty beyond the sea wall, were a handful of various birds, including a flock of Black-bellied Plovers, in the image below. Among them is another bird, possibly a Ruddy Turnstone.

Eavesdropping on the presentation was a Herring Gull. This gull was such a constant presence that it was christened “Jake” (if I recall the name correctly). Jake was no doubt waiting for a handout, but he was most polite and patient. His colleagues were not always so well-behaved. A walk out on the jetty among fishermen and other tourists found another gull determined to make off with someone’s bait fish.

The wind was ferocious, and forced some of the shorebirds, like these Semipalmated Plovers, to seek shelter behind whatever rocks they could find. Western Sandpipers (yes, Western sandpipers!) joined them, and birds of both species tucked their faces into the feathers on their back to avoid the onslaught of blowing sand. Sunglasses are recommended to you for just this reason. Blowing debris will ruin anyone’s day.

The dedicated volunteers that tally the birds from dawn to dusk, day after day, are to be commended. The data amassed by such dependable folks will help determine the health of bird populations in North America and help direct conservation efforts where they are most needed. Oh, and the average annual count is nearly 800,000 birds since it began in 1993. Among them are flocks of cormorants like this one.

I highly recommend the Avalon Sea Watch for anyone, from novice to expert birder. You are certain to see a good variety of birds in a very short period, no matter what time of day you arrive. Dress warmly, though, and don’t forget that eye protection.

Cape May Point State Park

2010-11-14T14:24:00.000-08:00

After spending time at Cape May State Park on October 15, 17, and 18 of this year, I can highly recommend this natural gem to any naturalist. There is literally something for everyone, from history to architecture to nature.

The most obvious landmark at the park is the lighthouse, 157 feet in height. It was erected in 1859, after erosion forced the dismantling of the previous lighthouse built in 1847. Many of the bricks from the older version were incorporated into the current tower.

An equally impressive structure is a World War II bunker, constructed as part of the Harbor Defense Project of 1942. The entire park is actually a former military base, and the bunker was originally 900 feet from the shore. Today, at high tide most of it is under water.

A pair of linear one-story buildings near the lighthouse houses the restrooms, park visitor’s center, and a small natural history museum that contains some live animals as well as typical taxidermy mounts and other old-style interpretive exhibits.

You might be better off simply exploring the trails that lace through 153 acres of wetlands and open woodland. The half-mile Red Trail is wheelchair-friendly, while the Yellow and Blue trails eventually end up at the dunes and beach. While watching for birds above, be sure to note what is underfoot on the boardwalks, too. We saw this ribbon snake on one of our treks.

Other animals may cross your path as well, like this male Blue-faced Meadowhawk dragonfly

The boardwalks also have several platforms, and even a few wooden blinds, from which to watch waterfowl on on the open water in the marshes. There are obviously continuing efforts being made at habitat restoration as well, with numerous plantings installed on drier ground.

Do take advantage of the many programs and guided nature walks offered here. There is even a hawk-banding demonstration from mid-September through October.

The official website for Cape May Point State Park offers more details than I can share here, but by all means consider a trip here.

Cape May, New Jersey

2010-11-12T23:27:00.000-08:00

You looked so very pretty when we met in Ocean City
Like someone oh so easy to adore.
I sang this little ditty on our way through Ocean City
Heading south along New Jersey’s shore
On the way to Cape May I fell in love with you
On the way to Cape May I saw my dreams come true.
I was taken by your smile as we drifted through Sea Isle.
My heart was really gone when we reached Avalon.
On the way to Cape May, Stone Harbor skies were blue.
We were naming the day when Wildwood came in view.
If you’re gonna be my spouse, we better head for that courthouse
On the way to Cape May,
On the way to Cape May.

Thanks to Abigail Parker for sharing this song with myself and Heidi Genter during our visit to Ocean City and Cape May. Abby and Heidi are both accomplished vocalists, not so myself. “On the Way to Cape May” was penned by Maurice ‘Buddy’ Nugent around 1960 and sung by a variety of artists since. The most popular version is performed by Philly Cuzz and the Shoobies, and played regularly on a certain Philadelphia radio station on Fridays.

I like to think that the song also describes my time getting to know Heidi, and while we didn’t stop at the courthouse, I think we fell in love with Cape May, as well as with each other. Easy to do with the beaches, dunes, salt marshes, and balmy weather in mid-October.

The cape is a world-famous destination for birdwatchers (“birders”), especially during fall migrations, and is it ever a great spot. The Cape May Bird Observatory makes birding easy, with events almost every day and volunteer bird experts helping you find and identify the birds.

Cape May Point State Park is where most of the action is. The lighthouse serves as a beacon to orient to. Close by is the Hawk Watch, an elevated platform overlooking a wetland set back behind the dunes and the beach. Spotting scopes are usually available for sharing, and interpretive signs inform you of the wildlife you are likely to see. Adjacent picnic shelters afford meeting places for bird, butterfly, and dragonfly walks. Trails originate there as well, and boardwalks take you through the marshes.

Besides Cape May Point State Park, there are other locations worth exploring. Rea Farm is a working agricultural enterprise open only to members of the New Jersey Audubon Society, Bird Observatory, and their guests. The fields and swampy woodlands offer superb habitats for a variety of songbirds and insects. Lily Lake, surrounded by a fairly upscale suburban neighborhood, lures waterfowl and wading birds. Sunset Beach, with its landmark “concrete ship” is a great place to find “sea glass” and quartz agates, as well as knick-knacks at a truly wonderful gift shop.

I’ll be adding more installments about some of these places as time allows. For now I bid you farewell, along with this Great Egret departing the wetlands near the Hawk Watch.

Sports Mentality

2010-11-06T21:14:00.000-07:00

I think I have at least a partial answer to why men get so worked up over spectator sports. Women, and a few men I suppose, often react by saying something like “Why are you so upset, it’s only a game?” Well, no it is not, and I’ll explain why.

Sports are symbolic, a metaphor for justice (or injustice), success and failure, even good and evil. We want desperately to believe that we can triumph over adversity ourselves, succeed through hard work, and vanquish our own demons. Increasingly, men are feeling disempowered and seek symbolic justice through spectator sports.

We believe, these days at least, that we are at the mercy of employers, bosses, banks, government, and maybe even spouses. Real or imagined, we feel powerless to change our own circumstances and have largely lost faith that the “good guy” can finish anywhere but last. We rail against “America’s team,” the franchises and universities rolling in wealth and entrenched in “tradition,” as they represent the evil overlords of our own jobs, careers, and personal finances.

When “our” team wins, we feel vindicated, hopeful, and energized by association. When that team loses, we sink further into despair and hopelessness. It doesn’t seem rational, you say. It doesn’t have to be. It just….is. It is about respect, or lack thereof, and we feel disrespected much of the time in our personal lives. We are disgraced, humiliated, and repeatedly dismissed when we attempt to advance in the workforce. We bring home smaller wages, driven down by “illegal immigrants.” Our jobs are shipped overseas, not unlike professional sports teams that abandon one city for greener pastures elsewhere. It isn’t fair, and that is the bottom line.

I guess that is what irritates me the most. I don’t get people who respond to the disappointments, trials, and tribulations of others with comments like “life isn’t fair.” Maybe not, but why the hell aren’t you working to make it fair? Why is that not a priority with you? Why is it not a priority with our society, and why are those who want to make life more equitable for all labeled as “socialists” or “communists?” Why is that a bad thing?

We won’t talk about any of this, of course, engage in meaningful dialogue, or God forbid take action to change the status quo. We may not even have voted on Tuesday. No, we will turn up the volume on the TV so we can better hear the sports announcers. We’d rather be at the game in person, but the team owner jacked up the ticket prices to pay for those new luxury boxes at the stadium.

Ocean City, New Jersey

2010-11-04T00:29:00.000-07:00

Sunrise. Deserted boardwalks still beckon as the sun seeps over the horizon. Beach and jetty are cool on a mid-October morning, but holding hands with a loved one warms me. The sound of the surf is soothing. The casual flapping of the gulls is relaxing, effortless wingbeats exercising indifference to us.

Ocean City, New Jersey is a “dry” island, devoid of alcohol sales, but it profits from the tourist trade all the same. The off-season leaves few but the locals strolling and cycling along the waterfront. There is still attention to detail, though, decorative cornstalks heralding autumn.

There is a stark contrast between the wild Atlantic Ocean and the amusement park mentality of local enterprises. They merge on the boardwalk where grackles and gulls will steal your fast food. Few shops are open now, the ferris wheel sits idle, and Music Pier is taking an intermission.

Beyond the façade of glitz and the aroma wafting from the pizza joint that stubbornly persists in cooking pies, the neighborhoods are modest, quaint, and peaceful. Houses have modest gardens, but the residents groom them well. It is not a terribly romantic place, yet one feels comfortable here. You will be back, you know it, but no rush. No hurry here, the gulls, grackles and tides will be patiently waiting.

Butterfly Time (Part 2)

2010-10-16T05:00:00.000-07:00

This post takes up where Part 1, on my sister blog ”Bug Eric” leaves off. The seventh annual “Butterfly Magic” kicked off with the suave and swanky “Butterfly Affaire” fundraiser on Sunday night, October 10. Music, fine food and beverages were the order of the evening, but at least a few folks ventured into the hot and humid greenhouse in their gowns and suits (though most were dressed a little above “business casual”).

The butterflies had mostly settled down to roost for the night, making them difficult to spot. The lights were on in the tropical greenhouse, but insects are not easily fooled by the artificial extension of natural day length. Consequently, the hit of the night was a group of recently-emerged African Moon Moths, Argema mimosa.

These large, showy insects are very cooperative, sitting idly in the places we had put them earlier in the day. The moths live only two or three days, even in the wild. They do not feed, or even have functional mouthparts, living instead off the stored fat reserves they built up in the caterpillar stage. Females wait patiently for males to fly to them, attracting the opposite gender with a pheromone (like a perfume) that the males can follow from a mile or more away.

The males use their feathery antennae like satellite dishes, picking up the fragrant signals of a female and homing in on her. She may not even venture off of her cocoon, at least not in our captive setting where we usually take cocoon and moth out to the greenhouse and pin the cocoon perch to a tree trunk.

Longwing butterflies in the genus Heliconius are at the other end of the longevity spectrum. While most butterflies can last two or three weeks, maybe a month on flower nectar, longwings can go up to six months because they can also eat pollen. There is no end to the variability in color and pattern, even within one species of Heliconius. Some mimic milkweed butterflies that are toxic to some predators. All are neotropical in their distribution (that means they are native to Mexico, Central and South America). Colorful and seemingly fragile, they fly slowly, perching frequently. This Heliconius erato displays a typical pattern for its species.

Come evening, or during overcast days, the longwings seldom take flight, instead hanging from the underside of foliage, or perching on leaves like this Heliconius doris.

As diminutive as the longwings are, the swallowtails are large and powerful. This Magnificent Swallowtail, Papilio garamus, is the only specimen to emerge so far from the multiple chrysalids we have received in shipments. It ranges from central Mexico to Costa Rica.

A real success from the shipments were sulphur butterflies in the genus Catopsilia. They are commonly known as “immigrants,” which of course has been the source of many bad jokes among the staff and volunteers in the exhibit. Ironically, the “Orange Immigrant,” Catopsilia scylla, hails from northern Australia and neighboring islands of Indonesia, not from south of the U.S. border.

Wherever you call home, you might want to plan a trip to meet these wonderful insects while they are here in Tucson. Butterfly Magic runs through April 30, 2011, so reserve those tickets now.

It's "Arachtober!"

2010-10-12T18:24:00.000-07:00

One of my friends on the photo-sharing website Flickr recently informed me of an annual group posting called “Arachtober.” It is an invitation-only group, but you can inquire to the moderators to become a participant. Each member tries to post one spider image a day during the month of October. How appropriate given the Halloween season.

It is encouraging to see the spiders are not only getting positive publicity, but that they are becoming the focus of an increasing number of amateur and professional nature photographers. They certainly make wonderful subjects. Those that sit in webs are pretty easy to take pictures of, without the risk that the spider will run away.

”Arachtober” began on October 1, 2007 with the posting of a single spider image by one of Flickr’s users. An encouraging comment on the image from another user suggested that Halloween week should be deemed “Spider Week.” The user who initially posted the image responded that he probably had enough images to post one spider a day for the entire month. Thus, “Spider Month” was started.

Meanwhile, a third user started her own “Spider Blitz” Halloween week and in the process learned of the month-long effort of the other two users. This third user suggested “Arachtober” for that project and the name stuck.

In October, 2008, the Arachtober group finished with forty-five members and 599 image posts. The 2009 campaign was even better, with a total of 70 members finishing the month and 1, 088 images posted.

You are still welcome to join this year’s effort, which at present includes 74 participants. According to the founder of Arachtober:

”The group works like a short term 365 group, the goal is to post spiders to Flickr daily during October and have fun. When you shot the spider isn't important. To make it through the month, most of us have to save up over the year. Even if you don't have enough spiders for every day, you can still participate. You can either post them daily till you run out, spread them out every few days, or save them till Halloween week. Spiders are especially popular around then.”

I have sprinkled this blog post with some of the images I have already submitted to Arachtober this year. I encourage you to visit the Arachtober page and browse the collective. Here’s hoping you will participate, too. Arachnophiles unite!

Note: By custom, and to protect privacy, few Flickr users reveal their real names, hence the rather cryptic references here.

Tucson Reptile and Amphibian Show 2010

2010-09-28T23:42:00.000-07:00

Saturday, September 25, I had to choose among several nature-oriented events around the Tucson area. My selection was the annual Tucson Reptile and Amphibian Show at the Expo Center in South Tucson. While the overwhelming majority of participants were vendors of live reptiles, arachnids, and terraria and other products related to keeping pet “herps,” the educational exhibits were quite enthralling.

The Tucson Herpetological Society featured several live reptiles native to Arizona, including this Great Basin Rattlesnake, Crotalus oreganus lutosus.

I just looked up the scientific name for that serpent in the book Rattlesnakes of the United States & Canada, authored by Manny Rubio. I purchased that outstanding reference at the Reptile Show as well, and Manny was on hand all day signing copies.

The most impressive exhibits were furnished by the Phoenix Herpetological Society. This organization even runs a sanctuary for unwanted reptiles. I suspect that some of the more dangerous specimens were probably seizures in raids on drug-smuggling rings since trafficking in narcotics and exotic pets often go hand-in-hand. Macho dealers often want pets symbolic of their toughness, and/or dangerous pets to guard their stashes of illegal substances, cash and weapons. In any event, the animals the PHS brought to Tucson were truly amazing.

I am not readily intimidated by reptiles, but one specimen had me a little nervous and totally in awe. It was a Reticulated Python, Python reticulatus, raised from a hatchling by the gentleman standing next to it at the exhibit. The snake is now seventeen years old, just shy of 19 feet in length, and weighing in at 260 pounds. I estimate the snake’s head was at least as large as my size 7 ½ shoe. The snake’s name was “Tiny.” No, I’m kidding!

The python was in a compartment on a long trailer that included many other snakes and lizards. Among them was this gorgeous albino Western Diamondback Rattlesnake, Crotalus atrox.
Aberrations like this don’t usually survive long in the wild, but they make excellent ambassadors for their species in an educational venue.

Most of the animals in the show were in plain enclosures that facilitate easy cleaning and optimal viewing by the public (no place for the reptile to hide). This did not make for the best photo ops, but I was happy to get some of the results I did given the obvious “in captivity” look, smudges on the glass from countless children’s noses and hands, and often poor lighting. Still, a King Cobra, Ophiophagus Hannah, has an overwhelming presence in any setting.

A couple of small crocodilians and an enormous Alligator Snapping Turtle complemented the snakes, but it was the vipers that I found most amazing. Take this Mangshan Pit Viper, Trimeresurus mangshanensis, for example. Found only on Mt. Mang in the Hunan Province of China, it is literally “something you don’t see every day.”

Likewise, this bright yellow example of an Eyelash Viper, Bothriechis schlegelii, is best encountered behind glass in a nicely-landscaped terrarium, as opposed to wrapped around a branch at eye-level along a jungle trail in Central or South America.

There are more images of other snakes over at my Flickr photostream. I’d like to thank my friend Leigh Anne DelRay for reminding me of the show to begin with, and sharing the experience with me last Saturday. I encourage everyone to visit their own local reptile show and take a friend or young person with them. It can make a lasting impression to come face-to-face with native and exotic wildlife at such events.

Shooting the Messenger

2010-09-22T08:00:00.000-07:00

Monday, September 20, Malaysian government officials announced that they will not proceed with a planned release of genetically modified Yellow Fever Mosquitoes, Aedes aegypti (pictured below, on *me*), in rural and wild regions of that nation (source: Malaysia Today.com). The mosquitoes have been “engineered” to produce short-lived larval offspring. This is obviously an attempt to prevent delivery of the disease-causing organism by eliminating its vector. What I find ironic is that there are concurrent efforts being made to engineer malaria mosquitoes (genus Anopheles) that are non-lethal to the insects, but prevent them from being viable intermediate hosts to the malaria parasite Plasmodium. Quite a contrast between the two strategies.

It can be argued convincingly that anything curtailing widespread mortality in “Third World” nations should be a high priority that will also aid in eliminating poverty. It can be argued that with current trends in climate change, tropical diseases will make significant inroads into temperate areas thus far free of such epidemics. It is also a fact that disease-causing organisms are developing resistance to antibiotics at an alarming rate. Why not shoot the messenger then: Attack the vector organisms responsible for ferrying those protozoans and other microbes.

The problems with killing off mosquitoes include a potential disruption of the food chain, whereby other organisms will be deprived of prey. Mosquito larvae also have their own role in filtering water. We cannot readily predict what the absence of mosquitoes would mean to ecosystems on even a local scale.

Interestingly, another article I read recently described how the “Brain tissues and the nervous systems of insects may provide the next line of antibiotic defense against emerging superbugs that have become resistant to drugs.” How do we know that the very cure for some of our human plagues doesn’t rest in the literal minds of mosquitoes? The point is that we haven’t examined all the possibilities. Before we assert a death sentence for a species, should we not mine it for all the “good” it could do? We are reticent to execute individual human criminals, perhaps in part because there might be something to be gained as a society by keeping them alive. We tend to be optimistic that way.

I tend to be optimistic about the most malevolent creatures we share the planet with. No creation, or product of evolution, is without some degree of merit, even if that grain of positivity has no direct bearing on human lives.

The “shoot the messenger” campaign has been seen before. Tsetse flies carry the trypanosomes responsible for sleeping sickness in humans, and “nagana” in livestock, especially cattle. Wild African mammals are immune to the disease, but serve as reservoirs for the parasite. Eliminate the tsetse flies and Africa becomes one big cattle ranch with no place left for wildlife. Is this an oversimplification? Perhaps, but the Law of Unintended Consequences factors prominently in cases like this.

We need to have meaningful dialogue about the direction that GM research is taking. The left hand needs to know what the right hand is doing, and profit from that information. I remain confident that we can overcome human mortality factors in a responsible manner that does not disrespect other creatures in the process. I still have faith that we can act responsibly in our own affairs of reproduction and population.

Update.

2010-09-21T12:27:00.000-07:00

Once again I find myself apologizing for the relatively sporadic nature of my posts here lately. No excuses, really, though I have been working rather random hours at the Tucson Botanical Gardens, and consequently eating randomly, sleeping randomly, and writing randomly. Maybe I need to take a class on time management.

I also just concluded a project in which I reviewed chapters for a forthcoming self-published book on the natural history of Virginia Beach, Virginia, by Scott Bastian. He has been a delight to work with, and he will be turning out a pretty unique book that has a wealth of information stretching far beyond the locality of Virginia Beach. You'll hear more about this once it is off the presses.

A relative lack of rain this year in Arizona (except for the area immediately adjacent to the Mexican border) has meant that many insects have been lacking, or at least less numerous, than usual. Perhaps because the Tucson Botanical Gardens is heavily watered, I have found a surprising diversity of things there, and expect the trend to continue through October.

Best wishes to my readers for a fruitful fall of exploring, image-taking, and enjoyment of autumn colors.

Monsoon

2010-09-04T20:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we had what was probably the last big storm of the “monsoon” season here in southern Arizona. I haven’t quite gotten used to the idea that we have monsoons. This isn’t Bangladesh. I have to take the television meteorologist’s word that the summer weather pattern qualifies as such.

During May and June, the Sonoran Desert heats up to an almost intolerable degree. Literally! Temperatures regularly exceed 100 degrees Fahrenheit. One year in recent memory we had a string of 39 straight days that were over 100 F. This simmering pattern sets the stage for what is to come. The winds change toward the end of June as low pressure replaces the fading high pressure, and moisture is drawn up from the Sea of Cortez. Rains usually follow.

Still, the definition of our Arizona monsoon seems to depend upon who you ask. Some say that when the dew point reaches 54 degrees Fahrenheit, it more or less marks the onset of the summer rainy season. The dew point is the temperature at which air becomes saturated with water vapor and that vapor begins to condense. Others simply assert that the average beginning of the monsoon falls on about July 7.

That is not to say that every monsoon is “average.” Far from it. Last year there was almost no rain at all, and this year has not been a great improvement. My immediate neighborhood has seen maybe three good storms with heavy rains. An average year would be more than double that.

The thunderstorms associated with the monsoons can be terribly violent. The storm yesterday included hail as well as rain, plus very gusty winds. A storm a few weeks ago spawned lightning that lit a tree on fire in a nearby park. Some streets here in Tucson are sacrificed to drainage during storms, and I jokingly tell people that I live on the North Fork of Magnolia during the monsoons.

Most destructive of the monsoon phenomena are “microbursts.” These are straight-line winds that can wreak just as much havoc as a weak tornado. Microbursts are essentially “wind bombs” that happen when cold air in the top of a thunderhead suddenly drops to the ground, sending the equivalent of a shock wave of wind in all directions. The winds generated can exceed 70 miles per hour, and the phenomenon can last from five to fifteen minutes. The area impacted is small, however, generally restricted to less than 2.5 miles in any given direction.

The intensity of the monsoon season varies considerably, and La Niña and El Niño events can exert quite an influence, but the rains are vital to preserving the diversity of flora and fauna in the Sonoran Desert.

Flickr Photostream

2010-08-28T07:17:00.001-07:00

I admit I might be cheating a little, but today I am re-directing you to my Flickr Photostream for some eye candy. Each of the new images there includes a little bit of information about the creature depicted, and/or the circumstances under which it was imaged. Hope you enjoy. I'll be back soon with additional posts.

Brandi Fenton Memorial Park

2010-08-25T00:05:00.000-07:00

Brandi Fenton Memorial Park is a multi-use holding of the Pima County Natural Resources, Parks & Recreation agency. I paid a visit there on June 15, 2010 and found it to be much more than I had anticipated. At a little shy of 57 acres, it is also far larger in size than I imagined.

The park’s namesake was a bright and cheerful 13-year old who died tragically in a car accident in 2003. The centerpiece of the park reflects in its landscape and architecture the joys of this vibrant teenager: butterflies, art, and a caring . A butterfly garden, fountain, several sculptures, and inlaid artwork make for a very colorful and inspirational community resource.

There is an equal abundance of active recreation opportunities to complement the passive, relaxing, and introspective areas. A dog park, basketball courts, fitness stations, playground, and walking paths afford exercise for people and pooches; and there are even equestrian facilities.

Additionally, there are many interpretive signs explaining the historical Binghampton district where this park is located. Original buildings remain on the property and serve a variety of public functions, including a visitor center. A farming community dating back to 1875, Binghampton is on the National Historic Register as well. Demonstration gardens of crops grown in that era are planned for the park in the future.

Located at the intersection of Alvernon Way, Dodge Boulevard, and River Road just blocks north of the city of Tucson, Brandi Fenton Memorial Park is a great place to explore and exercise your “inner child” (or your real son or daughter if you have a family). I look forward to seeing how the park matures (it opened in 2005) in the coming years.

Night of the Toads

2010-08-14T21:18:00.000-07:00

I was fortunate enough to attend the annual Invertebrates in Education and Conservation Conference in Rio Rico late last month, and participate in a couple of the spontaneous field trips that happen, especially after dark. One such excursion, led by my good friend Zack Lemann of the Audubon Institute Insectarium in New Orleans. We were looking for certain beetles, and had success, but reptiles and amphibians were also in abundance. Chief among those were toads.

We drove north from the conference headquarters in Rio Rico toward Madera Canyon, stopping at a service station at an exit in Green Valley. There, right by the interstate, we found the cactus longhorn beetles Zack was after, but there were also several Couch’s Spadefoots (Scaphiopus couchi) dining on the many insects drawn to the lights of the gas station.

Spadefoots are technically frogs in the family Pelobatidae. They lack the large parotoid glands of true toads (located just behind the eyes and visible as large, elliptical bulges). What truly sets them apart from other amphibians, however, is the dark, hardened tubercle on the underside of the heel of each hind foot. These “spades” help the animal dig into and out of the mud.

Couch’s Spadefoot is exceedingly tolerant of long dry spells, emerging during the soaking monsoon downpours that typically begin in early or mid-July here in the Sonoran Desert. They erupt from low-lying areas as those ditches and depressions fill with water and soak into the soil, softening it. The spadefoots have been buried fairly deep in the soil awaiting the rains.

Males call to females with a voice that has been likened to a “bleating sheep with a cold.” Real attractive. It works, though, at least on female spadefoots. Females lay eggs in the temporary puddles and the ova hatch twelve to twenty-four hours later. The tadpoles, in a race against the evaporation of their aquatic niche, metamorphose to miniature adults in as little as eight days. Before the mud dries and cracks, the spadefoots dig in. Underground they are able to tolerate at least a year without food or water until the rains once again return.

From Green Valley, our party moved on to a retirement community in the small town of Continental. The lights in the parking lots of the community attract many insects, and not surprisingly toads are wise to this fact. Under one light I found this Great Plains Toad, Bufo cognatus.

I am grateful that the toad was quiet, for I have read that the calls of males are lengthy, extremely loud, and likened to a jackhammer. Unlike spadefoots, members of the genus Bufo are true toads in the family Bufonidae, characterized by “warty” skin and those prominent parotoid glands. Otherwise, the life cycle and habits of the Great Plains Toad closely resembles that of Couch’s Spadefoot. The tadpoles take longer to mature, but the adult toads likewise spend the bulk of their lives underground awaiting heavy rains. They make the most of their time aboveground, eating a huge amount of insect and arachnid prey to get them through lean times.

Conspicuously absent from the landscape on this particular night (July 28-29) were the enormous Sonoran Desert Toads, Bufo alvarius that usually dominate the scene. Formerly known as the Colorado River Toad, this species has apparently been rendered extinct in much of the Colorado River corridor (along with the water which now does not even reach the Gulf of Mexico). These are huge animals, mature adults often measuring seven inches….in just about any direction so great is their girth. Some specimens would find a dinner plate a somewhat confining perch. They are not easy to photograph, either, as they turn away from flashes. I imaged this one in Picture Rocks.

Sonoran Desert Toads are nothing to trifle with, especially if you are a dog. They have incredibly toxic skin secretions. The hallucinogenic properties of those toxins are well-known to the medical community, too. Stupid people who engage in “toad-licking” get what they deserve. Pets that don’t know better can die from ingested toad toxins.

A really great online article about the Sonoran Desert Toad can be found here at The Firefly Forest website. Information about the other anurans (science-speak for “frogs and toads”) treated here can be found on the website of the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum.

Sources:
Brennan, Thomas C. & Andrew T. Holycross. 2006. Amphibians and Reptiles in Arizona. Phoenix: Arizona Game & Fish Department. 150 pp.
Hanson, Jonathan and Roseann. 1997. Fifty Common Reptiles & Amphibians of the Southwest. Tucson: Southwest Parks and Monuments Association. 63 pp.

The Better to Hear You With

2010-08-11T08:00:00.000-07:00

That passage from “Little Red Riding Hood” could apply as easily to Townsend’s Big-eared Bat, Corynorhinus townsendii, as it does to the Big Bad Wolf. This docile little creature is not nearly as menacing, however, and a true friend to farmers and other folks plagued by insects.

I was fortunate enough to discover this roosting individual inside an abandoned house in Brown Canyon on the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge in southern Arizona. Thanks to Philip Kline who had informed me of another species of bat in the same house. That bit of knowledge prompted me to venture into what had to be Hanta Virus Central to try my own luck. I found the solitary Townsend’s Big-eared Bat as a result.

Townsend’s Big-eared Bat occurs chiefly west of the Rocky Mountains from southern British Columbia through Mexico, but isolated populations in the Ozark Plateau and Appalachian Mountains are not thriving. Like most bats, this species is incredibly sensitive to any disturbance during hibernation in caves, mine shafts, and similar locations.

Those big ears come in very handy when the bat is hunting. Most insect-eating bats use echolocation to pinpoint their prey in flight, homing in on the audible signals bouncing off their moving target. Big-eared bats have raised this hunting style to an art form, and few moths can escape these nimble fliers.

This species roosts singly during the day in the summer months, but individuals cluster together during winter. Mating happens in late autumn or early winter, and each female gives birth to a single offspring in May or June. Maternity colonies can include several dozen to a few hundred females.

Look for this species in desert scrub or dry pine forest habitats for the most part. Note that many references still list it by its older scientific name, Plecotus townsendii. Besides the extra long ears, often folded back as the one ear in the image above shows, this bat is recognized by the pair of glandular bulbs that rise above the nostrils.

Additional sources of information include this great page by Texas Parks & Wildlife, and this page from Pima County government that likely addresses the subspecies imaged above since Brown Canyon is in the Baboquivari Mountains (pronounced Bab-o-KEEV-er-ee).

Brown Canyon

2010-08-06T00:20:00.000-07:00

Last Tuesday, August 3rd, I had the privilege of joining my friends Philip Kline, Margarethe Brummermann, and Fred Heath in Brown Canyon on the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge in western Pima County, Arizona. I also made new friends in Ken Kertell, Jake Mohlmann, and a couple from Cincinnati: John and Samantha.

Recent rains left Brown Canyon anything but “brown.” Wildflowers, butterflies, and dragonflies all added dashes of color to this unique landscape. In fact, reds, pinks (like the Fendler’s Globemallow below), oranges, and yellows were among the dominant colors of the surprisingly lush blooms of flowers.

There was still water in the upper reaches of the canyon, and a succession of pools in the scoured bedrock were patrolled by dragonflies including the Filagree Skimmer, a Giant Darner, and this Meadowhawk (Sympetrum sp.).

Most of those on this trip were looking for birds and butterflies and they were richly rewarded. Fifty-two species of butterflies and skippers were observed, including this Fatal Metalmark, Calephelis nemesis.

The canyon itself is very scenic, and steeped in a rich human history. Buildings, rusting cattle tanks, and even an old windmill are strewn throughout the landscape, and an old road and rock walls run parallel to the streambed. Not all the human habitations are derelict, however, as there is a very nice environmental education center complete with lodging for visitors.

The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service is quite serious about regulating tourist traffic in Brown Canyon, and it cost our party $40 to visit for the day. We had to obtain a code for the keypad that opens the gate, and it took two tries to get all three of our vehicles through before the gate closed automatically behind us!

I heartily recommend a visit to this wonderful area, but strongly suggest that you watch the weather reports and make your trip after a good monsoon rainfall if you want to see the best of the flora and fauna. Remember to take plenty of water, sunscreen, sunglasses, and a broad-brimmed hat for maximum comfort during your hike.

News Flash

2010-08-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

I will be starting a new, part-time job shortly at the Tucson Botanical Gardens. My title will be "Assistant Butterfly Curator" for the Butterfly Magic exhibit of live butterflies that runs from October through April. Elizabeth Willott, Curator of Butterflies, will be my supervisor there. I am very much looking forward to learning how to better train and manage volunteers, which will account for most of my duties.

I am still actively seeking full-time work online, in media, and museums, but am very grateful to TBG for extending me this offer. I will still have time to continue freelance work as well.

Sonoran Mountain Kingsnake

2010-07-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

A little Sonoran Mountain Kingsnake, Lampropeltis pyromelana, may be the most striking (no pun intended) reptile find of my life thus far. This beautiful serpent was hiding under a slab of bark on a stump at Middle Bear along the Mount Lemmon Highway in the Santa Catalina Mountains just north of Tucson. I was there with MJ Epps on May 26, 2010, just before her departure for the summer. Thank you, Mary Jane, for holding the snake so gently while I took pictures.

The only other specimen of this snake that I have ever seen is one held in captivity by another friend, Pat Sullivan, in Sierra Vista. His is definitely an adult, whereas this “wild” one was just a youngster.

The bold black, white, and red color pattern on this species is obviously meant to mimic the markings of the venomous Sonoran Coralsnake, Micruroides euryxanthus. There are many mnemonic devices used to differentiate the two, or at least kingnsakes and coralsnakes in general. The one that I remember from childhood is:

Red and yellow kill a fellow,
Red and black, venom lack.

The color reference denotes the sequence of bands. Kingsnakes have red markings adjacent to black bands. Coralsnakes have red markings meeting yellow (or ivory) bands. No, it is not always easy to make the distinction when the serpent is moving at a high rate of speed and making its escape into a burrow or other inaccessible retreat.

Pine forests in middle and high elevations (3,000 to 9,000 feet) of the “sky islands” of southeast Arizona seem to be a good habitat for this species. It is a day-active reptile capable of climbing trees to feast on nestling birds. Its diet also includes lizards, rodents, and occasionally bats. It kills by constricting its prey with ever-tightening coils of its body. At up to 43 inches in length, it is a fairly sizable snake as an adult.

The Sonoran Mountain Kingsnake does hibernate during the cooler months in autumn and winter, and reproduces in late spring and early summer. Females lay clutches of two to nine eggs in June or early July, the hatchlings appearing in late July or August.

Besides Arizona, this snake ranges into Nevada, Utah, New Mexico, and Mexico.

I grew up in Oregon, and I remember wanting very much to find a California Mountain Kingsnake, Lampropeltis zonata up there. Well, finding this little fella (gal?) might just make up for that childhood wish.

Aravaipa Canyon

2010-07-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

I am terribly behind in documenting places I have been this year. Way back on May 16, 2010, I had the pleasure of visiting Aravaipa Canyon in Pinal County, Arizona with my good friend Margarethe Brummermann and three visitors from elsewhere. Yen Saw was visiting from Texas, and Christian Ludwig came over from Germany. Mike McNichols came from next door: New Mexico. The heat was a bit too much for Yen and Mike, so they elected to depart in the early afternoon, but a good time was had by all before and after our party split.

A good portion of Aravaipa Canyon is a wilderness area managed by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) in the United States Department of the Interior. It is closed to motor vehicles, with hikers forced to wade in the creek through the narrower portions of the canyon. The remainder of the canyon is mostly privately-held land and one trespasses at their own risk.

Our party had barely entered the lower reaches of the canyon when our caravan came to a screeching halt in front of a large Gophersnake, Pituophis catenifer stretched across the road. It was a truly magnificent reptile, and we were able to get multiple images before and after it attempted its retreat.

Actually, it retreated a bit too far for my tastes, looping a coil up my pant leg. Having encountered a rattlesnake the week before, I was a little bit edgy; and a whole lot embarrassed by the serpent’s affection.

Yen and Mike were looking mostly for mantids, and at this time of the year in Arizona most of those predatory insects are in immature stages, quite small and difficult to detect. Ground mantids in the genus Litaneutria can be found as adults, however. Mike also knows ants quite well, and he helped Christian find several colonies of different species. Margarethe was literally beating the bushes for beetles, and I was seeking photo ops for anything I could find in the quickly withering landscape.

Mike and Yen headed back to their hotel in Tucson after finding a dead cow. Their discovery and departure had nothing to do with one another.

Margarethe, Christian and I then continued up the canyon, finally coming to shadier and cooler places by the creek. As we pulled into our final stop along the road, a Common Black-Hawk took off from a low perch in a tree, the black and white bands of its tail both startling and exciting us.

By now, in late afternoon, the wind had picked up and the gusty conditions made photography more difficult. So did the dim sunlight under the tall cottonwoods. Still, we enjoyed seeing creatures like bombardier beetles (Brachinus) and Rubyspot damselflies.

We turned around in the parking area at the entrance to the wilderness area, and were treated to spectacular rimrock views. I look forward to visiting again, and hopefully walking the wilderness area. Aravaipa Canyon is certainly a gem in a state full of truly magnificent landscapes and natural attractions.

Many thanks to Margarethe for the transportation, and to Yen, Christian, and Mike for sharing their own knowledge of insects. I’m already counting the days until they visit again.

NOTE: Special thanks to Yen Saw for letting me use the image of Margarethe, and the one of the group. We are, from left to right: Yen Saw, myself, Margarethe Brummermann, Mike McNichols, and Christian Ludwig.

Blow to Hell

2010-07-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

Last July I was complaining about the towns in western Massachusetts being overly zealous in their tendency to mow down all vegetation in vacant areas (“Mow to Hell”). Well, here in Arizona there is an equal disdain for “weeds” and other plants, but folks mostly take weed-whackers to them rather than running mowers over them. They clean up the debris with a truly evil machine, however: The leaf blower

It appears that leaf blowers are standard equipment for landscape companies here (along with electric hedge trimmers and chainsaws for the palm trees). When I was working I dreaded the day the landscaping crew came to do the annual clean-up. It was noisy, dusty, and left the little “garden” a wreck until it grew back. So much for the butterflies and bees for awhile.

Oh, I understand the use of forced air to herd leaves and errant pebbles and such. Using a hose to do that here is a much greater sin than assaulting our eardrums. Wasting water probably is an actual crime in Tucson. Nevertheless, those leaf blowers run on gasoline, so you could argue that they are at the least a waste of energy. Add the air pollution from their emissions, and the noise pollution they generate, and you really have to question whether this is the best way to do the job.

Now, let it not be said that Eric Eaton ever complains about such things without offering a solution, and I do have one in this case. You see, there is this very handy, portable, and efficient device called a BROOM! You’d think nobody here had ever heard of such a thing! I can personally attest to the wonders that a broom can do on sidewalks, driveways, and parking lots.

Oh, and for tougher surfaces, like lawns and flowerbeds, there is this other invention called (are you ready for this?) a RAKE. No kidding! A series of tines that deftly separate dead leaves from tender green grass. Imagine that! Wonders never cease.

The history of the invention of leaf blowers is a bit sketchy, with dates ranging from the late 1950s (Wikipedia) to the 1970s (NoNoise.org). However, there is widespread agreement that shortly after they were made available to consumers, people wanted them banned. Carmel, California became the first city to ban leaf blowers, in 1975. Since then several other California municipalities have also banned the noisemakers.

I am not quite as amped-up in my plea for an end to leaf blowers as the gentleman who wrote the online essay ”Leaf Blowers Must Die, but I am quickly approaching that threshold. I think it comes down to that overarching category of Things We Can Do Without, especially given the alternatives available.

Bloom Night

2010-07-18T20:00:00.000-07:00

Tohono Chul Park in northwest Tucson held its nineteenth (19th!) annual “Bloom Night” this past Friday, July 16, 2010. The event is done on short notice as park personnel evaluate the potential for Night-blooming Cereus flowers to be at their peak. I subscribed to the park’s Facebook status, so was alerted on Friday that the stage was set for that night.

Night-blooming Cereus, also known as “Queen-of-the-Night,” “reina-de-la-noche,” and “deer-horn cactus is known scientifically as Peniocereus greggii (formerly Cereus greggii). The plant is easily overlooked entirely in the daytime, as the slender stems, with four or five ribs, appear to be lifeless, propped against a tree or shrub under which the cactus grew. The Night-blooming Cereus can reach to eight feet in height, with the help of its “nurse” tree, but is usually substantially shorter. The majority of those I saw Friday night were roughly two to three feet tall.

Once each year in June or July the plant puts forth shockingly beautiful blooms under the cover of darkness. Each flower is a “one night only” affair, hoping that a sphinx moth will find it and pollinate it. The flower enhances its chances of this by emitting a fragrance that carries for up to one hundred feet. Moth olfactory senses must be vastly more acute than our human noses. Unless I literally stick my schnoz into the flower I get nothing.

Tohono Chul is a private park, so while they do stay open late (6:30 PM – midnight) for this one night, they also charge you for your visit. At only five dollars it is a bargain in many ways (for one thing, the usual daytime admission is $7). The park is a combination of natural desert and planted examples of plants from Arizona, Mexico, and elsewhere. There is a “tea house,” gift shop, and more on its 49 acres.

It is a pity that there are not more after dark programs here and at other parks around the Tucson area. It is at night that one encounters many of the more interesting flora and fauna. Ironically, I found Tohono Chul’s example of Giant Sprawling Morning Glory, Ipomoea longifolia, to be even more spectacular than the star of the show. Judge for yourself (below).

The park obviously waters their plants considerably more than occurs naturally, as you won’t see an enormous Sacred Datura (Western Jimsonweed), Datura wrightii, like this anywhere in the desert, at least in my experience.

The animals in the desert night can be equally spectacular. Field crickets (genus Gryllus) add an auditory accompaniment to any evening stroll.

They have to be careful they don’t blunder anywhere near a tarantula burrow, though, or get run down by one of the agile wolf spiders (family Lycosidae) that are on the prowl.

Most of the trails in the park are marked on Bloom Night with luminaries (candles inside paper bags), but since I had both a headlamp and a flashlight, I took the liberty of exploring some of the paths that remained in the dark. I was rewarded with arguably my most exciting find of the night: a small Western Diamondback Rattlesnake, Crotalus atrox, coiled along the edge of the path. It remained perfectly still the entire time I snapped images and introduced it to other curious visitors.

That is perhaps what I enjoy most about events like this: the opportunity to share my own discoveries with others, and give them a little knowledge, too, providing I know something about the animal or plant at hand. I must have spent fifteen minutes showing a steady parade of other visitors this female funnel-web weaving wolf spider (Sosippus californicus) toting her egg case across her silken sheet. Some folks were disappointed that it was not a Night-blooming Cereus flower I was taking pictures of, but most were quite curious and took their own images with phones or point-and-shoots. I love that.

One final note, you never know who you are going to meet at these shindigs. I saw Karen Wright for the first time in years. She’s the wonderful photographer who took the portraits of me that adorn my blogs and the back of the Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America. I also met a wonderful young couple who graciously offered me a ride home after the show. Thank you, Kerrah and Tim, for your company and generosity.

Rattlesnake

2010-07-05T15:02:00.000-07:00

I consider it a privilege any time I encounter reptiles of any sort, but especially venomous ones. Maybe it is because I have been a “city kid” most of my life, and grew up in Portland, Oregon where rattlesnakes are rare, if not extirpated entirely, but I consider rattlers, copperheads, and cottonmouths to be beautiful serpents.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a very healthy respect for any creature that can kill me. Even in snakebite cases that do not end in fatalities, the experience changes the victim forever (or it should). The venom of most pit vipers (family Viperidae, subfamily Crotalinae) is “cytotoxic,” meaning that it destroys living tissue. This helps the snake in killing prey and beginning the digestion process before the serpent even eats its meal.

My most recent encounter was with a Western Diamondback Rattlesnake, Crotalus atrox, courtesy of my friend Margarethe Brummermann. We were walking her dogs (or vice versa) across her property and adjacent state land on the evening of May 22, 2010. The instant Margarethe exclaimed “Rattler!” I saw the snake, stretched out on the other side of a small shrub.

It was not an impressively large specimen, only about three feet long as I estimate it, but it certainly stood its ground at my approach. I was impressed that Margarethe’s dogs (the three that had stayed with us and not taken off on their own) sat patiently while I took images of the increasingly agitated reptile.

Rattlesnakes look plenty calm and placid when you come upon them, but can instantly slither into a striking coil. The sheer speed at which rattlers operate, and their maneuverability, is amazing. I once witnessed a Black-tailed Rattlesnake crawl backwards while maintaining a striking pose. This Western Diamondback gave an equally awe-inspiring display, rising from the ground in the classic S-curve of movie Westerns. I think even my camera was intimidated. That is the theory I have for why most of my images did not have the entire snake in focus.

I felt no need to further antagonize the snake, so left it in peace after about five minutes. I do wish more people did the same. Residents of Tucson suburbs and more rural areas frequently dispatch rattlesnakes on their property. Those with slightly more humane intentions call Rural Metro Fire to have the snakes removed and relocated. Budget cuts have rendered snake removal services almost non-existent this year, and research has shown that snakes relocated a substantial distance from their home range will often die anyway as they fail to compete with other rattlers, or are unable to find their way back to their winter den site.

One can argue convincingly that rattlesnakes are valuable animals to have around. They are very efficient predators of rodents like wood rats (aka “pack rats”) that otherwise wreak havoc by chewing the electrical cables inside vehicles, steal shiny objects, and harbor other pests like kissing bugs (assassin bugs in the genus Triatoma). Personally, I’d rather tolerate rattlesnakes than have to expend the time, energy, and cost to eliminate a rodent problem myself.

There is, of course, the flip side of the coin. The physical and financial anguish in the aftermath of a snake bite cannot be overlooked. Rattlers often deliver “dry bites” in self-defense, saving their venom for predatory activities. This is by no means the norm, however, and envenomation is nothing to trifle with.

It takes little time for the venom to have a catastrophic effect on a human victim. A bitten extremity swells to grotesque proportions as blood seeps from perforated veins and arteries into surrounding tissue. This damage cannot always be mitigated, and it is not unusual for medical personnel to amputate a digit or more in the interest of saving the person’s life. Antivenin, mostly derived from horse serum, usually prevents a lethal outcome, but if you happen to be allergic to horses like I am, things can get complicated. Then there is the cost: Evacuation to the hospital (often by air), administration of antivenin, and a hospital stay of several days or weeks. I hear that an average snakebite ordeal costs over $100,000. I’m certainly not going to confront a snake with that potential pricetag.

Unfortunately, our collective society seems bent on ridding the world of these marvelous animals. I urge my followers to show support for organizations like Rise Against Rattlesnake Roundups, and educate their friends and neighbors on rattlesnake avoidance for people and pets. Want to read more? Consider The Red Hourglass: Lives of the Predators by Gordon Grice (New York: Delacorte Press, 1998) and Zero at the Bone: Rewriting Life After a Snakebite by Erec Toso (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2007). Thank you.

In Praise of Shade

2010-06-28T18:58:00.000-07:00

The city of Tucson, Arizona could use many things, like mid-level jobs to fill that void between rocket science and “Do you want fries with that?” Another crying need for people and wildlife alike is a Shade Initiative. During the searing heat of late spring and summer, there is nary a place to escape to. Sunscreen only does so much for Homo sapiens, and other animals take refuge where they can find it.

Many desert animals have simply become nocturnal, hiding in burrows or crevices in rocks by day. Even creatures that don’t actively dig will use the abandoned burrows of animals that do. Rattlesnakes will hole up in an old ground squirrel tunnel. Sometimes occupant and interloper will grudgingly share space, such as the many mammals, birds, other reptiles, and invertebrates that are frequently found cozying up to desert tortoises in their dens.

My own experience has showed that even insects will seek respite from the midday heat. One recent excursion to an artificial riparian area in Fort Lowell Park revealed an amazing spectrum of sheltering insects among the dense stands of cattails along the edge of the lower pond. Even butterflies like the Leda Ministreak, Great Purple Hairstreak, Empress Leilia, and Fiery Skipper work their way into the cool heart of the emergent vegetation.

Other insects present include an abundance of bees, wasps, and flies. You have to look closely. The wasps and bees are often tiny. On this day, June 21, 2010, I tallied wasps in the families Bethylidae, Chalcididae, Braconidae, Ichneumonidae, and Sphecidae. Sweat bees, especially males in the genus Lasioglossum (family Halictidae) were also common.

In the past I have observed fair numbers of “tarantula hawk” wasps, and even cicada killers in the ranks of roosting Hymenoptera.

The habit of seeking midday shelter does not escape the predators of these insects. Robber flies (family Asilidae) weave their way in and out of the cattails and pounce on unsuspecting prey of all kinds. Meanwhile, jumping spiders prowl each leaf and lynx spiders (Oxyopidae) lie in ambush to catch unsuspecting flies and other insects.

As I leave the park, I try and stay in the shade, but the mesquite, cottonwood, and ornamental pecan and eucalyptus trees are planted sparsely in the landscaped lawns. Once out of the park altogether, shade is even harder to find. There is no mandate to plant shade trees here, though Tucson Clean and Beautiful is perhaps slowly changing that through its ”Trees for Tucson” and Home Shade Tree programs.

The hot sidewalk, where there is a sidewalk, nearly melts the soles of my shoes. I grow hot and thirsty quickly. I pass by a sign in the flowerbeds warning not to drink the “reclaimed” water from the drip irrigation system. Fine, but then give me a public drinking fountain every few blocks. The bus stop is one of the few that do offer meager shelter. Most have no shelters, or the shelters are oriented such that “shelter” is rendered meaningless. I make a note to myself to consider leaving Tucson and relocating to a place with both shade and water.

Resaca de la Palma State Park

2010-06-23T20:38:00.000-07:00

The first stop on Bugguide’s “Texas Mini-Gathering” in early June was Resaca de la Palma State Park in Brownsville, Cameron County. The park is only three years old, but at 1200 acres it is the largest park in the World Birding Center contingent of south Texas parks.

Resaca is Spanish for an “oxbow lake,” a wetland cut off from a river that now takes a different path. The wetlands are being restored at Resaca de la Palma, but during the hot, dry season of late spring and summer, water is still scarce. What little water remains does attract a number of water birds such as the Least Grebe shown below.

Our party of three was given the royal treatment from naturalist Katherine Miller and her interns Cynthia and Ryan. We were taken on a tram ride (visualize an electric golf cart built for 8-10 passengers and no clubs) that covers 3.2 miles within the park, stopping anytime we spied something interesting. Cynthia found this spectacular, albeit deceased Beautiful Mesquite Borer, Callona rimosa as we went whizzing by at…about 2 mph.

The visitor center is surrounded by a garden that attracts a dazzling array of butterflies and other insects. One could easily just relax and stake out the bird feeders, too. In the heat and humidity it is a tempting option. Those who do wander the trails will find shade in most places, and be treated to wildlife such as armadillo, lizards, and toads. The trails are certainly used by nocturnal mammals, too, and they leave their, um, calling cards along the way. A pile of scat can be as attractive as a bouquet of flowers, though, as this pair of Mexican Bluewing butterflies attests.

Despite our arrival during the “off season,” the park had no shortage of things to offer and I encourage folks to pay a visit whenever they can. Amenities include eight miles of walking trails, and four wood platforms that each overlook a section of the four-mile Resaca. Watch for active oriole nests (in June at least). Keep an eye out for the large but shy Plain Chachalaca.

You’re likely to hear them more often than you see them. You might also be treated to a display from a Yellow-Crowned Night-Heron.

Many thanks again to Katherine for going out of her way for us (she even escorted us on a night hike). You will never get so much out of a $4.00 admission to anything. Note that your comfort will hinge a great deal on keeping well hydrated, tolerating annoying insects like eye gnats, and repelling chiggers with sulphur or another treatment.

Save the Scenic Santa Ritas

2010-06-19T14:56:00.000-07:00

While enduring delays at the Houston airport on my way back to Tucson from south Texas on June 8, I had the good fortune to strike up a conversation with Joan Williams, who lives near Sonoita, Arizona. She is a mover and shaker in a grassroots effort to prevent a new mine from sprouting up in the very scenic Santa Rita Mountains. She convinced me to take action, and I urge you to do the same.

Southern Arizona is already studded with mines, and/or the scars left in their aftermath, and this one, proposed by Augusta Resource Corporation (a Canadian entity) and its subsidiary Rosemont Copper Company, would be a real eyesore and an environmental mess. It is certainly not an industry compatible with the ranching lifestyle currently enjoyed by residents of Santa Cruz County, or the eco-tourism industry. I can just imagine the next tour operator pointing out a bird sitting “right over there on that pile of tailings.”

The root of this current mess of public hearings, environmental impact statements, and other bureaucratic appeasement is the antiquated General Mining Law of 1872. As unimaginable as it seems, the price of staking a claim has not changed one cent since that date. You can still stake a claim for $2.50 to $5.00 an acre. Our current federal officials are loathe to impede corporate mining interests and have not acted to even reflect current prices for metals extracted from claims.

So, we are left to fight mining claims on a case-by-case basis, with little help from government. Enter Save the Scenic Santa Ritas and the Hilton Ranch Road Community Organization, both devoted to blocking the proposed mine. The groups have succeeded in mobilizing a large contingent of local residents, citizen activists, scientists, and other stakeholders. Victories have thus far amounted to delaying the endorsement of the mine through normal bureaucratic channels. This is a pretty mean feat considering the tactics of the opposition, which have included buying up domain names likely to be used by groups opposing the mine. Such “greenwashing” has become the norm for public relations by the natural resource extraction industry. Fortunately, you can’t fool all the people all of the time, and more and more citizens are waking up every day.

Please consider making a difference through public comments, support of Save the Scenic Santa Ritas, and other approaches. Paraphrasing a popular legal quote, “A threat to the natural environment anywhere is a threat to the natural environment everywhere.” It is true. How can we expect other nations to clean up their act when we refuse to clean up our own? Thank you.

Bentsen Rio Grande Valley State Park

2010-06-13T14:36:00.000-07:00

I recently returned from a vacation (being currently unemployed the term “vacation” seems inappropriate, but…) to the southern tip of Texas where I met up with two other amateur entomologists (the quality of their studies makes “amateur” seem inappropriate, too). One of our destinations was the Bentsen Rio Grande Valley State Park in Mission, Texas. I will now indulge you in a rave review of this amazing piece of real estate.

Be advised, our party was there in the first week of June, clearly the “off season” for park visitors. Expect heavy crowds during the “wet season” and fall migrations in September and October.

There is plenty to see in late spring and early summer, however, including lots of birds like this Groove-billed Ani, Crotophaga sulcirostris, one of a pair that was nesting right at the visitor’s center. After imaging the bird, I noticed a sand wasp in the genus Bicyrtes that was digging a burrow at my feet. I hardly knew where to point my camera the whole time I was there.

The visitor’s center is just the tip of the iceberg. The bulk of the park is located across a canal. The road is closed at the canal and Border Patrol habitually stakes a vehicle at this post. A tram, towed behind a pick-up truck, transports park visitors through the park, which is otherwise closed to vehicular traffic. One may then hike on trails that start at the various tram stops.

Wildlife feeding stations are placed at various points, equipped in some cases with “blinds” consisting of walls with holes for your camera or binoculars. While birds were not particularly abundant when I looked, the oriole feeders with orange halves were overwhelmed with emperor butterflies, genus Asterocampa.

Bentsen Rio Grande Valley State Park is named after the Bentsen brothers of political fame who donated the 760 acre parcel to the state, largely in exchange for lands they developed elsewhere. The park, which opened in 1965, is also the headquarters of the World Birding Center.

Expect to see an abundance and diversity of butterflies, dragonflies, and damselflies as well as birds when you visit the park. There are also reptiles, like this Great Plains Rat Snake, Elaphe guttata emoryi that I encountered one night near the visitor center. Western diamondback rattlesnakes, Crotalus atrox, also occur in the park, so do pay attention to where you are walking.

The highlight of my recent visit (and there will be many more if I have my way) was, without a doubt, spying this bobcat sitting on the wall at the entrance to the park after an afternoon thunderstorm had subsided. Do visit yourself and make your own memories at this jewel in the Texas state park system.

Sweetwater Wetlands

2010-06-02T21:30:00.000-07:00

One of the most reliable places in Tucson to find wildlife is Sweetwater Wetlands. Indeed, it is a very popular spot for “birders,” and a destination for countless school groups who come to learn about the ecology of wetlands in an otherwise very arid environment.

Besides being a Mecca for birds, mammals, reptiles and insects, Sweetwater Wetlands is an integral part of the nearby sewage treatment facility. Effluent from the traditional treatment facility is channeled into a series of ponds where the treated water then percolates back into the underlying aquifer. This natural filtration further cleanses the water and it is then “reclaimed” when it is withdrawn again for use in irrigation, mostly of golf courses and the landscaping of business parks.

I have to admit I am ambivalent about the extensive signage warning not to drink the reclaimed water (presumably aimed at our homeless population) while there is nary a public drinking fountain to be found in the city of Tucson. “Irony” does not do justice to this situation. Maybe I just got spoiled growing up in Portland, Oregon where there is a public fountain on nearly every corner downtown.

Back to the wetlands. There is plenty of interpretive signage along the several trails that course between the ponds; and also at the wildlife viewing areas that take the form of small peninsulas extending into some of the ponds. Benches offer places to rest, drink, and snack as well as wait for birds to come to you. An average visit may yield such birds as the Common Moorhen, or a blue-billed male Ruddy Duck.

Lizards, mostly Desert Spiny lizards and whiptails, scatter in every direction at your approach, one seemingly every couple of feet. There are Greater Roadrunners in the area, but they seem to hardly make a dent in the herp populations. One can only wish for some predator to eat the non-native Bullfrogs that have come to call this place home. You can hear the “Jug-a-rum” call of the males at nearly any time of day.

I come here for insects and spiders, too, of course, and am rarely disappointed. Though this year has been sparse for most insects, I can always count on seeing Blue-eyed Darners, Rhionaeschna multicolor, like the female above that I found on my last visit. Also present in abundance are the Blue Dasher, Pachydiplax longipennis, and the Mexican Amberwing, Perithemis intense. I have also seen the Flame Skimmer, Libellula saturata, and a Roseate Skimmer, Orthemis ferruginea, this year.

The wetlands are torched nearly every year, a prescribed burn charring some parts of the area annually. It does not seem to adversely impact the animals, and in fact the scorching of the willows and cottonwoods sometimes makes them more of an attraction to insects and nesting and feeding birds. I recently found a giant crab spider (genus Olios) under a burnt strip of bark on a willow.

Do make a point of visiting this little gem the next time you are in Tucson. It is especially spectacular during waterfowl migrations, but any time of year is likely to reward you with a great “urban nature” experience.

Agua Caliente

2010-05-27T21:07:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite parks in the greater Tucson area of Arizona is Roy P. Drachman Agua Caliente Regional Park, located at 12325 E. Roger Road. It is a Pima County park with a unique history and diverse, surprising habitats full of wildlife.

The park is not accessible by public transportation, but I’ve been fortunate enough to visit on several occasions, courtesy of friends who also enjoy the place. The Tucson chapter of the National Audubon Society operates a small nature store there, and there is a visitor center with an art gallery, too. The Rose Cottage serves as a classroom for nature programs and environmental education. Always open are the restrooms and outdoor picnic tables (with grills) on a large lawn studded with palm and eucalyptus trees.

The main feature of the park is a series of three ponds, linked by an artificial stream fed by a natural warm spring. The scarcity of permanent water elsewhere has made this a Mecca for people, and the human history of the park goes back over 5,000 years, including a Hohokam village, circa 1150 AD, that extended into the property now included in the park. A cattle ranch and orchard sprung up around the spring in 1875. Some historical buildings have been preserved and interpreted in the park, including a bunkhouse from the 1920s, when various owners ran ranches and resort spas at the site, touting the health benefits of the mineral-rich waters. The 101 acre park as it is known today opened in January, 1985, after a donation of $200,000 by local businessman Roy P. Drachman allowed for purchase of the property by the County.

Wildlife benefits from protection here, too, and birdwatchers flock to see such winged wonders as the green heron (shown above) and fledgling great horned owls.

A network of well-groomed trails meanders through a mesquite bosque and other Sonoran Desert habitats. There are interpretive signs and benches along several stretches of the trails, and all the paths are relatively short and easily walked.

Be on the lookout for herps and mammals underfoot. Reptiles such as this horned lizard (Phrynosoma sp.) are quite cryptic, and hard to spot until they move. Stand quietly along the shore of the main pond and you might be surprised by a Botta’s Pocket Gopher, Thomomys bottae, poking its head above ground.

The emergent vegetation in the ponds themselves provides perches for a wide variety of damselflies, and dragonflies like the Red Saddlebags, Tramea onusta, shown at the bottom of this page.

The park’s official website is here, and an outstanding photographic portrait of the park is presented here by Dan Conway. I highly recommend making a point of seeing the place for yourself, though, next time you are in Tucson.

Remembering Mount St. Helens

2010-05-19T20:41:00.000-07:00

Today (okay, yesterday, I’m always behind in this kind of thing) marks the 30th anniversary of the major eruption of Mount St. Helens in Washington state. I remember May 18, 1980 vividly, and I recall the mountain before and after that day, too.

It was a Saturday, and I woke up late at my fraternity house in Corvallis, Oregon. As I approached the breakfast table a fellow Delta Chi asked if I’d heard that “Mount St. Helens has been going [off] all day.” A major eruption had been expected for some time, since flurries of minor earthquakes and steam and ash plumes had riveted the attention of geologists, politicians, and emergency personnel months earlier.

Everyone in the frat house was gathered in the television room of our house mom, with their jaws on the floor. No wonder. The aerial footage of the ongoing cataclysm was mind-boggling. What I recall most is seeing an entire forest, or what used to be a forest, barreling downstream on the Tuttle River, which had become a wall of water, mud, and volcanic ash. It looked like the Devil had thrown everything into the Blender From Hell.

Later, we learned of just how immense the event was, and how widespread the damage. The ash cloud had blown east, plunging Spokane, Washington into total darkness at midday, and threatening to suffocate anyone who ventured outside. The “blast zone” was marked by trees mowed over like….well, it defies words.

Seventy-one people perished in this nature-gone-nuclear event, most still officially “missing” because recovery was just impossible. One individual, reporter Dave Crockett of KOMO TV in Seattle, miraculously escaped death, but he couldn’t believe it himself. “At this moment,” he huffed and puffed from the ash-thickened air, “I honest to God believe I’m dead.” The images from his video camera actually seemed to verify that conclusion. A dim, distant light in an otherwise totally black screen suggested that characteristic “tunnel” that those who have near-death experiences report on the other side of their ordeal.

The aftermath of the eruption was felt throughout the Pacific Northwest. Volcanic ash, which amounts to pulverized glass, fell everywhere; and prompted outdoor workers to don filter masks throughout the summer when diminished rainfall let the dust become airborne once again. I had to do that myself, working the summer installing office furniture.

The show was not over, either. The mountain spouted off again in the late afternoon of July 22, 1980. While the May 18 event had been shrouded in the usual overcast skies, the July display was visible for miles. Rush hour traffic came to a standstill as motorists gawked in amazement at the mushroom cloud over the summit (now nearly 2,000 feet lower in elevation than before the May 18 eruption). Indeed, I was in the car with my mother and stepfather, and we decided we’d dash up I-5 for a better look (Mt. St. Helens is roughly fifty miles North-Northeast of Portland).

Beyond the horrors of the natural disaster, the chronicling of the story introduced us all to a myriad of human characters, like the cantankerous Harry Truman, resident of Spirit Lake, who refused to obey evacuation orders prior to the eruption. The story educated us by explaining terms like “pyroclastic flow” and “lava dome.” To this day the mountain landscape demonstrates the resilience of nature, even after it is quite literally paved over. It also inspired artists and writers. I wrote this poem sometime after May 18, 1980:

The Last Day of Mount St. Helens
Peaceful sloping hill in May
With somber tones of brown and gray
That do not fortell
Of disaster yet to come this day.
Eight twenty-nine and all is well,
Then gentle, sleeping mountainside
Comes unglued in massive slide.
A giant terrestrial tidal wave
Lays seventy-one in an ashen grave.
Sandy taste and sulfur smell
Hands each of us a piece of Hell.

I sometimes still prefer to remember Mount St. Helens from a trip to the “Ape Caves” led by my high school biology teacher, Karen Wallace, one Saturday in 1978(?). It was still the familiar “ice cream cone” summit back then, still a forested wilderness. There is no going back now, of course, and I have to wonder how many people get to witness a volcanic eruption in their lifetime. Geologic events generally happen on a geologic time scale, and one has to appreciate the natural and historical elements of such phenomena.

I am very interested to hear about your memories of that monumental day, or your memories of the mountain in general. Please share them here.

Mother's Day in Madera Canyon

2010-05-15T20:48:00.000-07:00

I am enjoying the field trips of the Southeast Arizona Butterfly Association (SEABA) this year. SEABA is a local chapter of the North American Butterfly Association. The monthly field trips, usually on Saturdays, are led by a butterfly expert or someone knowledgeable of the fauna and flora of the destination. Madera Canyon in the Santa Rita Mountains, a popular place for both Arizonans and tourists, was the site of May’s field trip on May 9. The leader was Gary Jue of Greg’s Camera Shop (where I bought my own camera), who works on Saturdays.

Hiking the trails takes you through several habitats, from mesquite grasslands at the entrance to oak and juniper forests at mid-elevation, and finally pine and oak at the top. It is a very visitor-friendly place. Just ask this rock squirrel that greeted us early on.

What is Mother’s Day without flowers? The bloom below is a type of milkweed known as “Antelope horns,” Asclepias asperula to botanists. Ordinarily, milkweeds are highly attractive to insects including butterflies, bees, wasps, and flies, but nary an insect was on this one, save for what might be a “seed weevil” in the Chrysomelidae leaf beetle family. I only noticed it when I cropped this image. See if you can find the tiny gray insect in one of the blossoms.

Among the birds we took note of was the ever-present Acorn Woodpecker, Melanerpes formicivorus. You will hear them often, even if you don’t see them, but the ones here in Madera Canyon have become habituated to people and frequently land quite close to picnickers.

I have noted some of the butterflies we saw over at “Bug Eric,” but wanted to conclude this entry with the most exciting, yet unfortunate aspect of our group’s visit last Sunday. As we were preparing to leave the canyon, we caught sight of something that nobody wants to see when they are in a forested area: a plume of smoke.

Word quickly made it to those of us at the top of the canyon that a car had burst into flames about half way up the road.

Traffic in and out of the canyon was halted while it was extinguished. Fortunately, the family in the car exited without injury. Miraculously, the fire didn’t touch off a wildfire, despite red flag warnings on this windy day. The flames did jump to either side of the road, but were quickly put out. The whole incident happened close to a creek, so the initial response was a volunteer bucket brigade. Also close by was a bed-and-breakfast, and the folks there strung together garden hoses to stop the roadside fire. Emergency vehicles arrived shortly thereafter, but the car was clearly toast.

Kudos to all who not only prevented what could have become a catastrophe, but who had traffic flowing again in a remarkably short period of time. I hope the afflicted family is going to be ok.

Apologies, Excuses, Suggestions

2010-05-07T10:52:00.000-07:00

The loyal followers of this blog deserve to be dazzled and amazed much more frequently than the writer has been able to do lately. I sincerely apologize for the time lag and anticipate that things will improve soon. Today I will do a little explaining.

I am delighted to report that part of the reason I have been “missing in action” is because I have acquired some assignments that, believe it or not, are actually paying me for online content I am creating. As a co-moderator with Mandy Howe, I’m monitoring submissions to SpiderIdentification.org for a modest monthly wage. I want to express my sincerest thanks to webmaster Kyle Williams for this opportunity.

Kyle had also purchased the domain name “DustMites.org,” but soon sold it to another individual. That person, Tim McGuiness, is out of the same amazing mold as Kyle in that he, too, has offered to pay me for creating content. I am in the midst of doing that right this instant, and am facing a pretty tight deadline. The research alone has had my head swimming. Obviously, I am also grateful to Tim for his generosity. Both the spider and dust mite websites will eventually include advertising that may generate more income still for all involved, but first things first.

Since it is springtime, I have also found myself out in the field quite a bit, though my allergies to pollens have sometimes made for miserable outings. It has also been extremely windy here in southeast Arizona, making it difficult to get respectable images of flowers, insects, birds, and other organisms to illustrate this blog with. I am very appreciative of my friends Margarethe Brummermann, Ned Harris, Fred Heath and his wife Mary Klinkel, John Rhodes, and others for including me in their own field trips.

I am hoping that all of you are also getting out and about, but if not, may I suggest investigating some of the blogs that I follow? Margarethe just started her own, all about Arizona beetles, bugs, birds, and more. It is listed, along with perennial favorites like “The Marvelous in Nature” by Seabrooke Leckie, on the sidebar of this blog.

Thank you again for your patience and understanding. May you enjoy the season.

Riparian Preserve at Water Ranch

2010-05-01T14:04:00.000-07:00

I had the pleasure of joining my good friends Margarethe Brummermann and Ned Harris last Tuesday, April 27, for a trip “up north” to the Riparian Preserve at Water Ranch in Gilbert, Arizona. Gilbert is rather seamlessly connected to Phoenix, but it was well worth enduring the traffic to reach this wetlands gem.

There are seven ponds covering 110 acres here, with the berms between them providing comfortable trails for walkers, joggers, and wildlife-watchers. One pond is dedicated to fishing and stocked with a variety of game species. Not all of the remaining ponds are full at any given time, but draining some exposes mud flats for shorebirds like the long-billed dowitcher to probe.

While the preserve provides wildlife habitat and recreational opportunities for people (there are also manicured lawns, a playground and “dino dig” for children, and even a small observatory), there is another purpose to the area. “Reclaimed” waste water, already treated for sewage, is what fills the ponds, allowing for a further natural purification and recharge of underground aquifers (as I understand it, anyway). It certainly seems to agree with the likes of the American avocet.

Our personal bird tally for the morning and early afternoon included mallard, cinnamon teal, northern shoveler, ruddy duck, Canada goose, American coot, double-crested cormorant, great blue heron, great egret, black-crowned night-heron, green heron, killdeer, black-necked stilt, mourning dove, white-winged dove, cliff swallow, red-winged blackbird, and great-tailed grackle.

Dragonflies are plentiful, too. It is a bit early in the season for them, but we still saw common green darner, blue dasher, roseate skimmer, black saddlebags, red saddlebags, and Mexican amberwing (female above).

The area is planted with lots of native trees, shrubs, and wildflowers that provide plenty of cover and forage for all forms of wildlife. There is even a pollinator garden that attracts butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds.

Should you decide to visit, be prepared for the park’s popularity. By 9 AM on a weekday the parking lot can be full, and the trails crowded with people walking for exercise and school groups learning about wetlands. When the day heats up, you might consider taking a break indoors at the Gilbert public library. It abuts the preserve and overlooks the fishing lake.

Meanwhile, you can live vicariously by visiting websites like Tom Webster Photography that give a great overview of the preserve and its facilities. Also be sure to visit the website for the Riparian Institute which manages the Preserve.

Meet the Bio Bus

2010-04-28T19:57:00.000-07:00

”What the….?” must be the reaction of many a motorist sharing the highway with this RV, decked out in snazzy graphics depicting North American wildlife, especially insects. The story behind this rig is truly intriguing, and we owe it to our neighbors to the north for coming up with the idea.

I had the pleasure of spending a day with the Bio Bus team at Picacho Peak State Park north of Tucson, Arizona on April 20, 2010. It was the culmination of a desire to meet one of the members of the crew since about 2002.

While soliciting photographers to contribute images to the Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America, I had the good fortune to cross paths with Jay Cossey, a professional nature photographer in Canada. He has stayed in touch ever since, and was delighted to inform me that he had gotten this job a couple years ago. Jay figured that at some point the Bio Bus would be passing near Tucson, and sure enough, here it was.

The Bio Bus is a research effort of the Biodiversity Institute of Ontario, based at the University of Guelph. It has been on the road since 2008, traveling across Canada for the most part, but also venturing into the U.S. as spring and summer slowly creep northward. The goal of the mission is to collect mostly invertebrate specimens for DNA “barcoding,” a method by which one gene with species-specific variation is used to identify a species. The result is that many “species” formerly recognized by mere morphological (physical) characteristics turn out to be a complex of species that are discernable only through genetic analysis.

The RV, which rides like a dream, amazingly enough, can accommodate four people along with all the gear necessary for navigation, collection, and day-to-day living. Graduate students and others rotate along the route, but Jay has been a pretty constant presence since last year.

This year’s organizer, Jill, has been there, too, making certain that permits are secured for collecting in state and provincial parks, making contacts ahead of the bus’s arrival, and generally being an incredibly diplomatic ambassador for the project.

Our day at Picacho Peak was reasonably productive, though the most abundant insects were large blister beetles (Lytta magister) that eventually became rather annoying with their droning flight drawing our attention from other creatures. We ended the day with a tasty dinner at a steakhouse in Tucson.

Thank you Jay, Maneer, Rene, and Jill for the warm welcome and camaraderie in the field. May you have a successful journey up the west coast and back across Canada this summer.

Please visit the Bio Bus website. Also, be on the lookout for a “Gigapan” of all of us atop the RV at Gigapan.org. Hopefully, one of those big blister beetles didn’t fly in front of the lens….

Tumamoc Hill

2010-04-23T16:59:00.000-07:00

I finally got my act together and made my first ascent of Tumamoc Hill, just west of downtown Tucson, on Easter Sunday, April 4, 2010. The public is only permitted on the property during weekends, and you must stay on the paved road at all times. Why? Well, this particular parcel of land has a very unique history.

The sign pictured above reads: University of Arizona Desert Laboratory, founded in 1903 as the Carnegie Desert Botanical Laboratory, Tumamoc Hill, United States Geological Service. Indeed, this butte has served as a living laboratory for a very long time, and non-university and non-government personnel need to be restricted to protect the study plots. Consequently, the area is closed to the public weekdays from 7:30 AM to 5:30 PM. The hill is very popular with the exercise-minded on weekends. Birdwatchers, botanists, and nature lovers in general also visit. I spotted this Cooper’s hawk while at the summit.

The Carnegie Institution of Washington chose this site to establish an ongoing study of the adaptation of plants to aridity, beginning in October, 1903. That mission continues to this day. The University of Arizona purchased the facilities (several buildings occupy the area) in 1956 to house their new department of geochronology.

Meanwhile, the United States Geological Service (USGS) conducts two major long-term projects: Biotic response to climate variability; and Landscape change in the Southwest.

Walk all the way to the top and you might see a flock of white-throated swifts, or some of the insects they are feeding upon. You will also be treated to some pretty stunning views of Tucson (with the Rincon Mountains in the background), and the Santa Catalina Mountains.

The entire butte is 860 acres (3.5 square kilometers), but 320 acres, including a handful of study plots, changed hands in February, 2009. This came as a result of a state trust land auction in which Pima County made the winning bid (and only bid). Prior to that, Tumamoc Hill was more or less the poster child for a movement to reform state trust land policies. A 2006 effort to change the state trust land system via a state constitutional amendment failed.

Human occupation of this site actually dates back as far as the Hohokam tradition of the Native American Southwest. With any luck, our collective footprint on Tumamoc Hill will continue to be relatively light, while continuing to shed light on the changes in climate, flora, and fauna here.