Migration Meanderings: The Flight of Kings

Posted on October 18, 2013 by Kim

Many years ago, my family was enjoying an early evening at the Jersey Shore when a butterfly fluttered by. Okay, nothing remarkable there. What followed was: a nearly identical butterfly passed by, followed in swift progression by two more, then three, five, eight more… In a matter of minutes we went from a clear evening sky to a cloud of butterflies, dozens of them, all flying one direction – south. We looked at each other and asked “Do butterflies migrate?”

We didn’t know it then, but we were witnessing the migration of the Monarch butterflies. Scientists now know that these orange and black insects fly from the northern U.S. and Canada to overwintering grounds in Mexico. Just like for birds, Cape May County is an important stopover for migrating Monarch butterflies.

A Monarch butterfly has a four inch wingspan and weighs a fraction of an ounce, yet it still manages to fly 2,500 miles in a short period of time. What may be even more amazing is that the butterflies that fly south have never been to Mexico. Neither have their parents, or grandparents or great-grandparents. It’s their great-great grandparents that left Mexico the previous February. They made it as far as Texas or Oklahoma before laying the eggs that would become the first generation of the year.

That first generation went through the life cycle of egg, caterpillar and chrysalis before becoming butterflies that would continue the journey north during their six week life.

The second generation was born in May or June; the third generation in July or August. This butterfly is from that third generation; it was photographed at Heinz NWR in August.

The other Monarchs shown in this post were seen in Cape May County in September; they are members of the fourth and final generation of the year, born in September or October. These are the butterflies that migrate south. They don’t immediately start a new reproductive cycle as their parents did. Instead they enter a non-reproductive phase known as diapause, which can last six to eight months. During that time, they fly to Mexico, spend the winter, and then return north to start the next year’s cycle.

All that flying is accomplished on an all-liquid diet consisting mainly of the nectar of plants like milkweed, goldenrod, aster, and others. The butterflies drink the nectar through a straw-like appendage called a proboscis, shown coiled up, above. The Monarch caterpillars are much more finicky – they only eat plants of the milkweed family. So Monarch females are careful to seek out milkweeds on which to lay their eggs.

FUN FACT: Monarchs are poisonous! A chemical in the milkweed they eat as caterpillars provides a distasteful and dangerous defense against predators. And the predators know it, and avoid them. This in turn is exploited by the Viceroy butterfly, which isn’t poisonous but looks very similar to the Monarch, an adaptation called mimicry.

This is a male Monarch. How do I know? See those small black spots on the hind wing near the end of the abdomen? That’s how. Females don’t have those spots.

CONSERVATION PIECE: The Monarch butterfly’s survival as a species is threatened both by deforestation in their wintering grounds and the disappearance of milkweed plants due to herbicide use in the U.S. Want to help the Monarch thrive? Go to your local garden shop, ask for milkweed plants native to your area, and plant them in your yard. Host a caterpillar!

It just wouldn’t be September at the shore without these tiny Kings of the Air.

Coming up: The Critter Radio Traffic Report

Migration Meanderings: Fallout

Posted on October 14, 2013 by Kim

Imagine that you’re a Warbler, like the American Redstart above. You weigh just a few ounces. You’ve spent a short, frenzied summer raising a brood of hungry nestlings. Or maybe you’re one of those recently fledged young birds. Now that the weather is cooling and food becoming scarce, your biological clock is driving you to make the long flight south, hundreds or even thousands of miles. You want to stay over land wherever possible, but here you are with water pressing in from both sides: the Atlantic Ocean to your left and the Delaware Bay to your right and in front. Soon or later you will have to cross Delaware Bay. But you’ve been flying all night (to avoid predators) and right now you’re hungry and tired. What do you do?

Look! Here are all these nice food-laden trees just below. An all-you-can-eat buffet! Never mind the crowd of birders and photographers standing on people’s front lawns to watch your every move. On this day in September, for you and dozens of your warbler compatriots, Cape May Point, NJ is the place to be. Black-and-White Warbler, above.

Simple geography makes Cape May County a migrant trap – a hotspot for winged creatures migrating south in the fall. Birds by the thousands follow land as far as they can, and the geography funnels them all over Cape May Point. Before crossing the water, many hungry birds must come down to rest and eat. Black-throated Blue Warbler, above.

Photographing you tiny warblers is a challenge. If you’d only stop moving! Add to that the challenge of identification. In fall you’re out of the more obvious breeding plumages, plus there are juveniles mixed in, who look different from their parents. I’m not really up to par yet on naming these birds, and so rely heavily on more experienced birders. When all else fails, I fall back on my photos and the field guides. Cape May Warbler (above) – I think.

Are you this flexible? Black-and-White Warbler again, leaving no food tidbit unturned.

Warblers show up in other places, too. Palm Warbler, Ocean City.

FUN FACT: A tiny Blackpoll Warbler needs to double its weight to fly from New England to South America each year. In human terms, that means a 150 pound person would need to gain 15 pounds a day until they reached 300 pounds!

It’s not just warblers on the move in the fall. Imagine you’re a raptor, soaring on the thermals over Cape May Point. Bald Eagles, Kestrels, Red-tailed Hawks and more join you in the sky; Northern Harriers hunt over the marsh. See that wooden platform filled with people? That’s the Cape May Hawk Watch, and the people are there just to watch you migrate. They keep score, too!

The Osprey above was lingering at Tuckahoe WMA before departing for warmer winter digs.

Maybe you’re one of these Tree Swallows, hunting mosquitoes at Corson’s Inlet State Park in Ocean City.

You might be one of the shorebirds, waders, gulls and terns that are fueling up to move south. Here a few fish try to evade a hungry Laughing Gull at Corson’s Inlet SP.

Is this prehistoric looking bird a friend of yours? Glossy Ibis, South Cape May Meadows.

Ho, hum, not another Egret? Actually, no. This is a juvenile Little Blue Heron. Mature adults are a dark dusky blue, but the juveniles are white, and look a lot like Egrets. Cape May Point SP.

Perhaps you are a dainty Forster’s Tern, flying slowly, head down, looking for prey. There it is! A sudden dive straight down, and you’ve got lunch. Edwin B. Forsythe NWR.

Black Skimmers at Forsythe NWR.

Well-fed and rested, you’re ready to continue your journey south. But you’ll have company; after all, birds aren’t the only winged creatures migrating in the fall.

Coming up: Migration Meanderings: The Flight of Kings

Salt Marsh Safari

Posted on October 8, 2013 by Kim

The day started quietly, with a drive through mist-shrouded farms and forests tinged with early fall color. The calendar said “October”, but by the time we arrived at the dock, the day was already doing a fine imitation of summer. We were here on Cape May Harbor for the Salt Marsh Safari, a two-hour tour on the 40-foot Skimmer through the back bays of Cape May. Before we even got on the boat, we had some great looks at Snowy Egrets (above.)

FUN FACT: Here’s a Semipalmated Sandpiper. A big name for a little bird! Its feet have short webs between the toes, hence the name. The holes in the mud are made by crabs, a few of which we’ll meet in an upcoming post.

Some of those aboard were veterans of springtime Skimmer trips, and reported that there weren’t nearly as many birds this go-round. It didn’t bother me, as I still saw two life birds this trip. Quality over quantity! Here’s the first lifer, Tri-colored Heron.

These are not the Skimmer, but a couple of fishing boats anchored along the harbor.

Speaking of fishing, a couple of times our captains scooped up marine life with a bucket for us to examine. There were sea urchins, shrimp, crabs, and a sea star at least six inches across. We also found a couple of large whelks. Most people know these for the empty shells found on the beach, but they are actually snails. Every time the captain tickled the soft creature inside the shell, it fired back with a jet of water.

Here’s the second life bird, Whimbrel. The captain brought the boat in for a really close view. Being on a boat has its advantages. As does that long downturned bill, for the Whimbrel. It’s perfect for digging yummy tidbits out of the mud.

Shameless plug: if you’re in the Cape May area and want to learn about the wildlife of the marshes, or just want a relaxing boat ride, check out the Skimmer. The captains are friendly and really know their stuff. http://www.skimmer.com/default.html

After lunch, we went for a land-based trek through Cape May Point State Park. With marshes, ponds and forests, there’s always a lot to see here. As the afternoon wore on, the unseasonable heat was getting to animals and humans alike. A couple of Mallards found a nice patch of shade.

A Green Frog knew how to keep cool.

Seaside Goldenrod was in bloom everywhere, and attracting lots of butterflies and bees. This bee is loaded with pollen.

Here’s the Bird of the Afternoon. This is a juvenile Black-crowned Night-heron. We found him at the base of a footbridge crossing a small stream. He couldn’t have been more than ten feet away, and he barely budged the whole time we were taking his portrait.

It may have felt like summer, but the golden hues hint at autumn to come. What better way to spend a glorious fall day than soaking it all up in Cape May.

Coming up: Migration Meanderings

More Winter Birds

Posted on October 2, 2013 by Kim

Yes, I know it’s barely fall. While we’re waiting for the leaves to turn here in the East, it seemed a good time to look back at some images from last winter. To remind us what lies in store when it gets cold…

The Dark-eyed Junco (above) and White-breasted Nuthatch were feeder visitors in my backyard. Also the first subjects for my new 400mm zoom lens.

Northern Pintail, John Heinz National Wildlife Refuge

Northern Shovelers, Heinz NWR

Sanderling, Ocean City, NJ

Mute Swan, Cape May Point, NJ

Common Merganser female, Heinz NWR

Carolina Wren, Heinz NWR

Snow Geese at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area in Lancaster County, PA. Snow Geese gather by the thousands on their winter feeding grounds. I had no sooner pulled up to a hill covered with geese when they took off. A giant cloud of geese, whirling and spinning as one. It was an amazing sight.

I like to look at this image at the right, pick out a goose, and imagine what he may be thinking.

“Does anyone know where we’re going?”
“Mom always told me not to follow the crowd.”
“Can’t a guy get some peace and quiet around here?”
“Why is everybody following me?”
“If you’re not the lead horse, the view never changes.”
“I wish that goose next to me had used deodorant this morning…”

Coming up: Something more seasonal, I promise!

Cold Duck

Posted on September 25, 2013 by Kim

Let’s take a little trip back to the images that inspired this blog in the first place. In February I went on my first trip with the Heinz Refuge Photo Group, to Barnegat Light on the Jersey Shore. In the winter the Inlet attracts a variety of ducks and shorebirds you don’t get to see other times of the year.

The challenge is getting to them! To get close you have to walk out on the stone jetty, which can be dangerous when it’s wet or icy. People have been known to fall between the rocks and get stuck.

The day of our visit was sunny, cold and very windy. Fortunately the jetty was dry, and we walked the whole length of it. The ducks were very close in, I saw 6 new bird species, and it was a great photo day for me and my new zoom lens.

All of these birds were new species for me.

Long-tailed Duck

Long-tailed Duck with an itch, and demonstrating a perfect belly-flop.

Red-breasted Merganser, well-coifed, and on a bad hair day

Common Loon – my first view of Loons. They were silent though. So I didn’t hear their signature eerie calls.

What the well-dressed photographer wears at Barnegat Inlet. Double mufflers! Colleen, trying to keep warm.

The stars of the Barnegat Show are the Harlequin Ducks. The colors of the males’ plumage are amazing. They were out at the end of the jetty, so we had to walk a long way to see them. Hopping from large boulder to large boulder was slow and tiring. The payoff was worth it, though!

Harlequins like the surf rough, and had no difficulty standing up to the waves, even if it meant getting a face full of water. Cold water.

Coming up: More Winter Birds

Summer’s Fleeting Beauty

Posted on September 21, 2013 by Kim

Where did this summer go? Labor Day is past, and the calendar is poised to turn over to a new season. June, July and August just seemed to fly by, didn’t they?

If the summer passed quickly for us, imagine how it must seem to be a butterfly, dragonfly or other bug. Most of these insects live only a few weeks or months, just long enough to breed and lay the groundwork for the next generation. Their time to live, and our time to enjoy them, is very short indeed. Soon it will be cold, and these lovely creatures will be just a memory. All the more reason, on the eve of the autumn equinox, that we should savor the beautiful colors of summer.

Eastern Tiger Swallowtail

Eastern Comma

FUN FACT: Punctuation in butterflies! There are several species known as Commas, for the shape of the white mark on the underwing. There’s a similar butterfly that has a dot at the end of the curved mark; it’s called a Question Mark. We all agree it’s really a Semicolon.

Hackberry Emperor, above and below. This guy came to visit and wouldn’t leave. Here he’s happily slurping up the minerals deposited by sweat on the hand of Cliff, our Butterfly Whisperer. (Without whom I wouldn’t be able to put a name to many of these beauties)

Red Admiral

FUN FACT: Ever called a butterfly a “flutter-by”? It turns out that was what these insects were called prior to 1865. Reverend A. W. Spooner studied and gave many talks on flutter-bys. Spooner was known for his mangling of words, inspiring the term “Spoonerism”. In his seminars, he frequently transposed “flutter-by” into “butterfly”. The term caught on, and has been in use ever since.

Eastern Tailed Blue

Summer Azure

Luna Moth

Smartweed Caterpillar, which becomes a Smeared Dagger Moth

Snail, moving at surprising speed

Blue Dasher

Common Whitetail

Have a colorful fall!

Coming up: Cold Duck

Mich-Mash

Posted on September 13, 2013 by Kim

By now the interested blog viewer will have gotten the idea that I’m rather fond of wildlife. You might think by the sheer number of bird photos that winged creatures top my list, but in fact I’m a mammal kind of girl. My all-time favorite animals are American black bears. All right, I admit, it’s the cute factor, but if I were twenty-five years younger I’d be in school right now, studying to be a wildlife biologist and hoping to work with black bears.

Frustratingly, I’ve never seen one. When I was 16, one strolled through my unit at summer camp, and I slept right through it. The Philadelphia Zoo has Asiatic black bears, but not American, and when we visited the Cape May Zoo, their bears were inside while the enclosure was being cleaned. I even have bad luck at zoos.

The closest I’ve gotten is this sign, near Mitchell State Park. Not your average “Deer Crossing” sign is it?

It’s becoming my new excursion mantra – “Great trip! But NO bears…”

Here are a few Michigan images that didn’t make it into previous posts, but I like too much to leave out.

Lost Lake, Ludington State Park

Michigan Highway 116 runs past endless beaches and right into Ludington State Park, and M-22 is the route through Sleeping Bear Dunes. The locations they provide access to are so popular there’s a whole cottage industry of M-22 and M-116 trinkets. Also common are Michigan T-shirts: “Lake Michigan – Unsalted and Shark Free”.

On the trail at Mitchell State Park

Some things you might see around Ludington, including art at the Waterfront Park, and the House of Flavors. Fantastic ice cream with really creative flavor names. “NSA Feature Flavor”?

As the sun sets on another wonderful sojourn to Michigan, good memories flood back:

Telling time by the toot of the Badger’s horn
Getting Jersey-sized waves on the first day
Dirt roads and red barns
Kayaking
Betsey’s delight with the scallops at Steamer’s
Meeting Doug and Suzanne – YAY! – and Terry and the Obrechts
The Club Mich sign
Getting lost
Barefoot Brownie ice cream, aka Bear Claw
Michigan cherries
Sherry’s battle with the ants
Going from way too hot to almost cold, and getting to wear an International House sweatshirt when it was too cold
Sherry whistling the blues to the accompaniment of Doug’s guitar
That darn tricycle
Forgetting to sign the garage before I left

Most of all, long conversations with wonderful people. I’m especially grateful to Betsey and Sherry – thanks guys for inviting me into your wonderful home this summer.

On the way out of town, let’s take advantage of one more opportunity to have the “Ludington Experience”, shall we?

The REAL Ludington Experience

Coming up: Summer’s Fleeting Beauty

Michigan’s Shy Wildlife

Posted on September 9, 2013 by Kim

I went to Michigan hoping to come home with lots of amazing wildlife shots. Last year I saw minks, for gosh sakes. And this year I have this great new long telephoto zoom lens. Confoundingly, Michigan critters are quite camera shy. No mink, no deer, only one chipmunk.

Birds – oh, yes, there were birds. I could hear them all around me, nattering away constantly. But they insisted on playing hide-and-seek with me, teasing with brief flashes of black and yellow, but never settling down long enough to visit.

Here are some of the animals I did manage to capture, mostly of the winged variety. Above is a Northern Pearly-eye Butterfly in Ludington State Park. Check out the natty striped antennas.

American Redstart, Ludington State Park.

Song Sparrow, Mitchell State Park.

Chickadee, Mitchell State Park.

Unidentified Warbler, Nordhouse Dunes Wilderness Area. Maybe a female or juvenile Blackburnian? A little help, anyone?

A juvenile Bald Eagle searches for prey, spots his quarry, closes in, and – IMPACT!

To the victor goes the spoils.

Looks like fish for lunch today.

Great Spangled Fritillary, Nordhouse Dunes Wilderness Area. Who comes up with these names, anyhow?

Common Buckeye, Ludington State Park.

Widow Skimmer, Ludington State Park.

Eastern Pondhawk, Ludington State Park.

Sometimes dragonflies, butterflies and birds of the same species come in different colors. Usually it’s a male/ female thing. For instance, here’s a Ruby Meadowhawk female. Not particularly Ruby, is it? But here’s the male Ruby Meadowhawk, and now it’s obvious where the name came from. Mitchell State Park.

And now, for some scaly things: Midland Painted Turtle, Mitchell State Park. The front fellow’s a little shy, typical of most of the critters I saw – or didn’t see – in Michigan.

Near misses: Occasionally along the Mitchell Heritage Nature Trail I would hear “shish-shishhh-shish” as a small snake slithered off into the grass. I rarely actually saw them. I also heard the distinctive banjo-like “twang” of a Green Frog a few times.

Ending on a furry note: Chipmunk, White Pine Village.

Coming up: Mich-mash

Michigan’s Natural Heritage: Cadillac Marsh

Posted on August 10, 2013 by Kim

Michigan has 101 State Parks. So far, I had only seen one of them. Obviously, that had to be fixed!

It was also time to get away from the Lake Michigan dune area, much as I love it, so I headed inland. The town of Cadillac is home to Lake Cadillac, Lake Mitchell, and in between, Mitchell State Park.

Within the park is the Mitchell Heritage Nature Trail. It’s a 2½ mile trail encircling a marsh, and just the thing to keep me out of trouble for a couple of hours. Or eaten alive, which was certainly my fear starting out. The trail began as a lovely walk through an old growth forest of maple, oak and pine. Turned out it was also home to gangs of marauding vampires in mosquito disguise. Knowing that I was headed for a marsh, I thought it could only get worse. Luckily, I was wrong; apparently these were strictly arboreal skeeters.

A brief meadow interlude, followed by a plunge into more woods just beyond.

Buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis.) A shrub that grows in marshes or on the edge of streams or lakes. It offers nectar to bees and butterflies, seeds for ducks and shorebirds and leaves for deer. Songbirds nest in the plant and small critters like insects, frogs and salamanders use it for cover. In other words, this is a friendly plant! (Thanks to Weed Warrior pal Mike for the identification.)

The observation deck offered a wide view of the marsh. From a distance it looks like a confusing tangle of green, doesn’t it? Look closely and you may see that there are dozens of different plants and shrubs here. Great habitat for wildlife. The Goldfinches sure loved it!

Outside the trail was a canal that reminded me of a castle moat. This was home to lots of turtles.

Ferns reflected in the dark waters of the canal.

Birch trees. But of course.

FUN FACT: This is a secondary growth forest. The original forest of white pine was decimated by logging in the late 1800s, and fire after that. White birch is often called the “fire tree”, because fire exposes minerals that spur the growth of birches, and it’s one of the first trees to reforest a burned area. This is an older birch woodland that is already transitioning to a beech and maple forest.

Young birch saplings often drew nourishment from the old pine stumps and grew up around them. Eventually the stumps would rot away underneath. These weird roots are the result!

Back from the trail, at the more recreation oriented part of the park, here is Lake Mitchell (above), and the Clam Lake Canal (below.) The canal was built in 1873 to float logs between the lakes for the lumber industry, and is a third of a mile long. At the end of the canal, Lake Cadillac.

Happy trails!

Coming up: Back in Time: White Pine Village

Michigan’s Natural Heritage: The Ludington Dunes

Posted on August 7, 2013 by Kim

My dad told many fond tales of his boyhood summers spent on the shore of Lake Michigan. It sounded wonderful – lakes, beaches and forests – right up my alley. So when my California cousins invited me to join them at the family home in Ludington, Michigan, I jumped at the chance. This is the third summer they’ve opened their home and their hearts to me, and I’ve loved every minute of the chance to spend time with family. And, like my father, grandfather and great-grandfather, I’ve fallen in love with Michigan! During my stay, I’ve taken full advantage of the opportunity to explore the natural areas on the Northwest coast of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula. Of course, I’ve taken enough pictures to fill a multitude of blog posts. So we’d better get started!

This was the first year I got to the Nordhouse Dunes Wilderness Area north of Ludington State Park and Hamlin Lake. Lying within Manistee National Forest, the Lower Peninsula’s only federally designated Wilderness Area encompasses 3450 acres of forest, dunes and interdunal ponds and marshes. The dunes were formed nearly 4000 years ago and can range as high as 140 feet. The Ludington Dunes Ecosystem has the largest area of fresh water interdunal ponds in the world. So why is it that every pond I’ve seen between the dunes in the last two years has been dry? Drought has taken its toll, on the ponds and the critters that live in them.

On the way to the trail-head, I drove through Manistee National Forest along a gravel and dirt road. Along the way, I stopped to check out the marsh area of Hamlin Lake (above) and the pine woods surrounding it (below). Notice how the trees grow in straight rows close together. This is a pine plantation, an area of pines planted for reforestation after the original trees were cleared in the logging boom of the late 1800s. Naturally-growing forests don’t look like this.

The trails through the Wilderness Area are legion, and as they say, “minimally signed.” Meaning, there are NO markers. Navigation even with a map is tough, as there are numerous social trails and wildlife paths not shown on the map. I tried to take the one trail that had trail markers, only to come to an intersection of four trails where the only marker pointed back the way I came! So, I obeyed it, and went back the way I came. Never let it be said I don’t do what I’m told.

Most of my hike went along a trail that paralleled Lake Michigan, along a wooded ridge above the lake. This was easy to follow without getting lost, and offered some great “peek-a-boo” views of Lake Michigan (above). At the edge of the trail, the side of the ridge dropped steeply away to the dunes 100 feet below. Not the place to search the treetops for birds while you are walking! Birch trees are numerous among the hemlock, beech, maple and pine trees of the forest. Birches are my all-time favorite tree; I can’t resist photographing their beautiful white trunks again and again.

I’m sure I saw a tiny fairy peek out from under the cap of this mushroom. Didn’t you?

The Road goes ever on and on…

Ludington State Park is nearly 5300 acres of sand dunes, ponds, wetlands and forests on a strip of land between Lake Michigan to the west and Hamlin Lake to the east. It’s a popular place for boating, fishing, swimming and camping. The black and white striped Big Sable Lighthouse stands guard at Big Sable Point and offers a wonderful view of the dunes, woods and lakes to those who climb it, as I did last year. The eight trails winding through the varied habitats of the Park are what keep drawing me back year after year. This year I tackled the Lost Lake and Island Trail, which follows a wooded sand dune ridge along Lost Lake before turning toward Hamlin Lake and returning through marshlands over a series of small islands.

Lost Lake (above) and water lily (below).

Views of Lost Lake.

Hamlin Lake is man-made, created in 1856 as a holding pond for logs awaiting processing at Charles Mears’ sawmill. Subsequent dam collapses wiped out the village of Hamlin, and the lumber mill closed. But the lake was becoming popular for recreation, and a new dam was built in 1914. The shoreline is dotted with old tree stumps, often with grass or tiny trees growing on them (above). Nature’s version of gardening in miniature. It amazes me where things will grow.

Sand dunes line the shore of the Hamlin Lake (right).

See? I can’t resist birch trees. Here’s why – white tree, green leaves, blue water. Can’t you just feel the breeze brushing your face here in the shade?

Coming up: Michigan’s Natural Heritage: Cadillac Marsh

The Wild Edge

Opening eyes to the wonder around us

Category Archives: Nature