Cooper's Hawk

 

This is an immature male Cooper's hawk. A breeze is ruffling its breast feathers. The eyes are yellow, indicating it's a first year bird, so this might be its first migration. Next year, the eyes will be orange, and when fully adult, red. 

Here's another picture of the same bird. I saw it at Cape May Point last week. The New Jersey Audubon Society calls Cape May Point the "raptor capital of North America." It's a world-famous place to watch migrating hawks in autumn.  The shape of New Jersey naturally funnels southbound migrating birds toward the point. Many linger there, waiting for favorable conditions to continue on across the wide Delaware Bay. On peak days, several thousand hawks have been counted by observers for the Cape May Hawkwatch, which is operated by New Jersey Audubon. Click to enlarge. 

Birdwatching Yesterday

I went birdwatching at Forsythe Wildlife Refuge in New Jersey yesterday. It's beautiful there in autumn. Click to enlarge.  

This lovely great egret stood still long enough for a photo. I love it when the water is still enough to reflect the long, graceful neck. 

There were lots of bufflehead ducks. Look at this handsome line following the adult male in front. 

I saw my favorite little duck, the green-winged teal. Here are two males. 

A shiny common grackle. Chattering as usual. 

There are woods in the refuge near the marsh. I took this nice sandy trail into the woods. 

And came back out on this one. A quote from Nathaniel Hawthorn seems to fit here: "I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house."

Boxelder Bugs

 

I was out of my home territory yesterday, visiting West Deptford, N.J., close to the Delaware River. It was marshy and although I did not see them, I know there were lots of boxelder trees nearby. I know because I saw their namesake insect -- the boxelder bug. Behold, above. This was more of an event than it sounds, because I'd never seen one before. As if to make up for lost time, I saw thousands of them yesterday. Click to enlarge.

I saw them on cars and walls, a lot of them, clustering especially on white backgrounds. They were sitting in the sunshine, seeking warmth. It's their yearly autumn swarm, during which they look for warm places to overwinter. They'll try to get inside buildings, but will settle for any sheltered nook. After spending the winter dormant, they'll again emerge in spring. I'd never seen them because there were no boxelder trees in my neighborhood; they eat mainly the leaves flowers and seeds of boxelders and do not stray far from them. 

Autumn Leaves

No thoughts today, just colored leaves. 

Click to enlarge. 

Take the yellow path. 

But do not touch the poison ivy, pretty though it may be. 

Goodbye, Halloween. Let November begin! 

Happy Halloween!

 

Halloween's coming. Candy's on the menu. BONE appétit! Click to enlarge.

Windfall Caterpillar

 

I find some of my best caterpillars on boardwalks under trees on windy days. They get blown from the tree and fall onto the contrasting surface of the boardwalk where they stand out. This one is a catalpa sphinx moth caterpillar, Ceratomia catalpae. I found in one windy day last week on a boardwalk under -- you guessed it -- a catalpa tree. Click to enlarge.

The leaves have not yet fallen from the catalpa trees in my neighborhood. That's lucky for this caterpillar because catalpa leaves are all it eats. It is even sometimes called a catalpa worm. The tree and its caterpillar are native to the eastern United States. When I was a child, we called catalpa trees Johnny Smoker trees for their long, cigar-shaped seed pods.  

The caterpillar is facing left. Notice the long black horn rising from its rear end. 

The horn is just for looks; it does not sting. It is thought to be a visual defense that makes the caterpillar look dangerous to would-be predators. It works for me. The next stage for this caterpillar is to make its way to the ground. It will burrow down and form a pupa, within which it will remain dormant through the winter. Maybe it wasn't blown out of the tree, after all, just wending its way along the boardwalk, looking for some nice dirt to pupate in?

Urban Wildlife

 

Urban wildlife sighting in Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia. Click to enlarge.

Squirrel evolution has reached the Age of Picnic Tables.

Around the corner. The cat wants to come in. 

Out all night. Still looking fabulous. 

Nearby, a horse-head hitching post for your horse. 

While meanwhile in South Jersey...

Indian Pipes

 

I took a short walk along a favorite dirt road in the New Jersey Pine Barrens this week. It turned out to be a remarkable experience. I saw more clusters of Indian pipes that day than I have seen during the rest of my life combined. There were scads of them! It was an Indian pipe extravaganza! And their odd little bell-shaped flowers were blooming. And the flowers were full of seed pods. Click to enlarge. Note the lovely pink accents. 

Indian pipes are curious flowering plants. They don't make their own food through photosynthesis. They don't even have chlorophyll, so they are not green. 

They look a bit like mushrooms, right? They are also called ghost plants. 

We find them near trees, where they intrude on existing associations between the trees and underground fungi. The fungi are “mycorrhizal,” that is, they grow around roots. The relationship between the trees and the fungi is mutually beneficial. Mycorrhizal fungi enhance the root zone of the trees and provide access to more water and nutrients. In return, they obtain sugars produced by the trees through photosynthesis. Good for both. 

Along comes the Indian pipes. Their roots parasitically take water, sugars, and nutrients from the fungi and give nothing in return. Bold strategy, Indian pipes! 

The large round structures in the flowers are seed capsules. Inside them are dust-small seeds that will be released on the air when the time is right.  

A Squirrel in Repose

 

Some Sundays, I have no plan for what to write a blog about. I pick up my camera and go outside, and I always find something interesting. Today was such a day. But I was not even all the way out when I spotted this squirrel on my back porch. I took its picture through the back door. The squirrel is stretched out, flattened, and sitting absolutely still. That's attention-getting, if only in contrast to the normal hurried movements of its kind. Is it resting? Sunbathing? 

 

 

It barely moved for the long minutes I watched. I wondered what might be going through its mind. In that, I am in good company. 

    Henry David Thoreau wrote in his journal: “I saw a squirrel this morning, sitting motionless on a limb, as if meditating.” 

    John Muir’s nature writings capture a similar moment: “Even the squirrel, with his busy ways, pauses to listen to the wind in the pines.” 

    The poet James Wright guessed at a squirrel's inner life:“Curled in the crook of a branch, He dreams of acorns, wind, and chance.”

     As did Gene Stratton-Porter, writing in Moths of the Limberlost: “The squirrel, nestled on a rail, is not asleep but dreaming—of leaves, of wind, of time.” 

 

As Gary Snyder once said: “Observing a squirrel can take your mind away from worries and into the wonder of nature.” It's absolutely true. Looking closer, I see that the squirrel is holding an acorn in its mouth. Maybe it is just taking a rest on its way home for lunch? 

 

Pine Barrens Gentians

 

Every year in mid-September, I go to my special place in the New Jersey Pine Barrens to look for an autumn blooming flower -- the pine barrens gentian. I was there this week. Behold! 

 

Click to enlarge.

The buds in various stages are also quite beautiful. 

And searching for them involves a pleasant journey...

down sandy paths, 

 

 

 

past peat-dark ponds.

The flowers were thought to have disappeared locally, but were rediscovered. Rest assured they are still there and as pretty as ever. 

The Last Week of Summer

We are heading into the last full week of summer. Soon there will be beautiful leaves. It is that time, described by Sarah Helen Whitman, "when summer gathers up her robes of glory, and, like a dream, glides away."

An autumn preview with mockingbird and persimmons. Click to enlarge.