Studiology

Fall Migration

Gardening one fall day I was struck by a cold wind that rustled the leaves around me and ushered the warm air out as it charged south. Looking skyward I was stuck by the most incredible vision, a line of migrating birds stretching as far as the eye could see. Traveling with the wind, they were hitchhiking, every sort of bird, large and small was coasting with their wings spread. 

I have hoped for a repeat of that event, but it's never happened. With fall arriving, I will be watching the sky as cold fronts come and go and I suggest you do the same. We are on the cusp of fall migration, particularly as the neotropical migrants head to south and central America. Chimney swifts left over a month ago, they rely solely on insects, so their exit comes early as they fly to Peru. 

Those that migrate later in fall spend their summers eating insects, switching to berries for fall. A critical part of their journey is the increase in body fat prior to migration. Weight gain is often 50 to 100 % of their body weight, which will quickly disappear as they exhaust their reserves. In berries, they are searching for those that are high in antioxidants, fat, carbohydrates, and protein. Dark colored fruit will provide the antioxidants which are helpful in breaking down carbohydrates and negating the stress of long flights. 

The primary source of high quality food comes from native plants. Shrubs that offer berries with the richest dietary supplements are the grey dogwood (Cornus racemosa), arrowwood viburnum (Viburnum dentatum), and spicebush (Lindera benzoin). These three have fruit that contains nearly 50% fat. Antioxidant rich berries come from Virginia creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia) and arrowwood viburnum; with this viburnum providing more antioxidants that any other species. 

Protein, fiber and carbohydrates are also necessary, found in the berries of poke (Phytolacca americana), poison ivy, southern magnolia, and American holly, which are all native. Fruit from nonnative plants are often low in the necessary dietary supplements for long arduous flights and it may take six times the amount of fruit to equal a few of the high power natives, which actually leaves a bird starving in stressful times. 

For safety most bird migration occurs at night, by day they seek a place of shelter with high density vegetation and a rich diet to replenish. Vast acres of manicured lawns help little as sources of valuable food. Knowing the need for these specific berries, I have altered my gardening practices and am leaving the Virginia creeper, pokeberry plant and poison ivy vine in place. A little wildness is good for us both. 

Zombies

The garden is usually a place of happiness, escape and calm. This year I gave up using Roundup so there are parts that have gone rogue. I get a bit tense about them, but that's not what's got me in a funk about my garden. The despair comes from my inability to raise butterflies successfully, it's just been a hell of a summer. 

Last year was over the top with monarchs, night flowers, frogs, etc... Morning visits this year turn up with dead monarch larvae and black chrysalis's. One morning I gathered 11 dead monarch caterpillars and that's when I decided that I needed to know the answer. My first thought was the parasite known as OE, which is present on a large percentage of our butterfly populations and will kill the host when their presence is so high that the caterpillar is too weak to live. For this particular problem there is little that can be done, so my funk deepened. I reached out to someone that knows all about raising monarchs and she suggested an alternative culprit - stink bugs. A few things she said started to make me a believer; they feed at night so the dead are found in the morning, they love fennel (which I have gobs of ), and the dead caterpillars have a kink in their body where the feeding tube was inserted by the stink bug to suck them dry. As I sent her photographs she confirmed the problem and suggested I go out at night with a headlamp to hunt them down. I still had some doubts (I will admit) but when I repeatedly found the stink bugs feeding I knew she was right.  

For such small insects, no more than a quarter of an inch large, they have an astounding appetite. Maybe it's just a cyclical year and next year will be better. I'm certainly hoping. 

Then came the inability of my monarchs to go from chrysalis to adult butterfly. This was a really big problem as I have only found one chrysalis that has successfully incubated or completed its life cycle. The tachinid fly is responsible for these deaths, a parasite of other butterflies as well, the fly egg is deposited on the caterpillar, often when it's hanging in the J position to begin the chrysalis building. The fly larvae feed on the caterpillar's blood, growing until it occupies up to half of the poor host's body. They emerge on a silky thread to drop to the ground and continue their incubation. The blackened chrysalis and hanging string are both indications of tachinid flies. I can only begin to imagine the effort involved in trying to function with something living inside of you, eating away. To make it even more unimaginable, they may have up to 6 tachinid fly larvae feeding inside!

There are other parasites as well. A very large wasp family, the ichneumon wasps will also parasitize, which leads one to wonder how can any of these caterpillars succeed? 

Those 2 holes aren't peep holes, just another parasite attack. My comment to my knowledgeable friend went something like; "horror movie writers must be gardeners". I think she got a chuckle out of that, but really, wouldn't you agree?

And I know that the only alternative is to raise my butterflies inside, but that too has its own set of problems. So with each day, and my garden has at least 3 monarchs flying around at any given time, I will observe and try and teach myself enough to help where I can and not let the garden become a place of depression. 

A Guinea Summer

Not even talking about the heat, it's just a busy time of year. In the garden it's a watering, deadheading, weeding, and oh, watching butterflies. There are also the extraneous things like birthday parties, Cullowhee Native Plant Conference, and serving as a bodyguard to the guinea. In this last duty, my serious job of protection, I can share the background story. 

In late winter 2 cooper hawks built a nest in a large white pine behind the garage. A bit chatty at first, in time they became so quiet that I thought maybe they had abandoned their nest. In early summer I heard the first vocalizations of the young and could hear them flapping around as they bounced from limb to limb. In time I learned that there were 3, one much smaller than the other 2. They vocalize all day long, triangulating where each one is, it's a constant during the day. They have grown quickly in the last month and are close to the size of the parents. Since they have seen me come and go on a regular basis, they pay me little mind. It's not uncommon to find them sitting on the roof, or on the posts for the cloths line, which causes the guinea to yell in terror and me to jump up from whatever I'm doing to defend him, he is the last one. Cooper hawks are not the largest hawk, but one of the fastest and they have spent a lot of time learning to glide and then go faster. 

Yesterday was the first attempt at a real attack on the guinea, which I thwarted just in time. This is my survivor, and he has aged to a mellow sort of fellow who follows me everywhere, unless Duke the yellow lab is there, then he follows him. He stays close to the house and survived 2 owl attacks in early spring, one of which was a hit but only resulted in some lost feathers. The last hit was at 2 in the morning and he actually came into the house and let me close the door. He slept on the floor and I crawled back into bed. For any guinea owner, this is hard to believe, they regard themselves as wildly independent.

My recent concern over the hawks and my worry over the guinea's survival prompted a friend to suggest a fake owl to scare the hawks. It seems wrong, very wrong, but I can't be there every time the little raptors want to test their strength. And I will add that everyday with my last guinea has been one I'm grateful for, we have become best buddies.

Here he is drinking out my garden water bowl, which was the same watering hole for the 3 young hawks only half an hour prior.

So fake owl it is. The deluxe version, it's solar powered with a motion detector. If anything sets off the motion detector, the eyes light up and some digital owl sounds follow (hardly scary but what do I know). Now, all is quiet but the guinea hasn't seen it yet. The night is young.

Case # 477

The call came from the Blue Ridge Wildlife Center that my turtle's fractured jaw had healed and he needed to go back home. Since this was  a difficult rescue and the scariest one of my life, I have spent some time plotting on how to take him home. The request for relocation is no more than a quarter mile from where they are found and headed in the direction they seemed to be traveling. I managed to scoop him up from Route 50  (April 28th) where it's 3 lanes of fast moving traffic and I was only successful because he was on his back and on the white line of 2 lanes. Figuring out where he was going was pretty simple, the land he lived on had become great big storage facilities, he was looking for an escape (or so I believe), but Chantilly would not be considered a good habitat by a long stretch. 

I settled on Cub Run Creek which appears to be surrounded by wetlands and won't be developed. It's more like a mile from his original haunt, but the kind folks at Blue Ridge pulled up a map of the area and we determined that it was the safest place. I even brought some tomato hornworms, specifically the ones that had parasitic wasp eggs on them. I figured a slow torturous death is worse than today's turtle food. 

His case was EBT 19-477, which I'm sure means Eastern Box Turtle, year 2019 and the 477th one?! 

The spot I placed him was overrun with poison ivy, so probably not visited much by humans. The creek was nearby and a plane from Dulles Airport was flying over, which most certainly would be a familiar sound to this turtle. We had a little chat about highways and he ambled on (without his snacks), I'm sure he was glad to be "in the wild" again. 

Safe travels # 477!

It's all Good, or is it?

Two weeks ago I mentioned that I was in a battle to weaken a very large wisteria plant. My goal is to cut all new growth every week. After a span of 9 days, I measured the new growth today. 

That's a yard stick! So wisteria grows about 5 inches per day. Per day! I have always joked about job security if you buy a wisteria you need a gardener, my way of telling you not to. And this is not my plant, I tore mine out years ago. It takes so much effort to control them. We will see how the rest of the summer goes, I shall be persistent in my duties as an estate gardener.

It also seems like the jungle arrived this weekend. I felt so good about my maintaining the weeds and the vines, and the vegetable garden. Then it hit and I feel totally out of control. We'll call it biodiversity, food for all. 

Turtles have been on the move and I saved a female box turtle on Route 50 in Chantilly. She suffered a fractured jaw (hit by car) and is healing at the Blue Ridge Wildlife Center in Boyce, Virginia. I understand they have to go back where they came from which is bad news. I believe she survived the giant construction of storage facilities for Dulles Airport and there is little for her to go home to.  The instructions are no further than a quarter mile from where you find them when taking them back. So the location is the Pleasant Valley United Methodist Church, 43987 John Mosby Hwy, Chantilly, Va and I'm hoping someone might live near there and can give her a good home. The call to take her home may come at any time or it might not, the last one took 3 months, but I sure would like to have a plan. Spread the word please. A nice home with a good supply of water. 

Twice there have been snapping turtles traveling through the yard. 

They may have been females looking for a place to lay eggs, or moving to another pond. I noticed the little protuberances on their head, almost like small worms. 

When the kids were small and we had the plant farm, swimming was a daily occurance, especially on hot days. There were so many snappers in the pond that I worried about little toes. One day I called Loudoun County hospital to ask if I had any reason to worry. A nice nurse told me to make a lot of splashing of water  as the kids went in and the turtles would leave. As I researched the bumps on their heads, the topic came up and the advice was the same. It seems they are only aggressive when out of water, which is understandable. Otherwise they are docile and can live to be 100 years old. 

I hope they make it safely to wherever they are going. 

Still April

On the last day of a busy month, there is much to share. In a wide space in a trickle of a creek on the farm I found some interesting squiggly things in early April. They turned out to be American toad embryos, strung out in a long flesh-like tube that looked like intestines. They have since  turned into tadpoles and I have banned all 4wheelers from crossing the creek. The toads will populate the woods, oh joy, oh joy!

They can camouflage themselves so well, just this morning I almost stepped on an adult as she huddled, maybe waking up from a winter slumber.

The stealth cams are still recording the comings and goings of wildlife. A coyote sat in front of one for a full hour one night, maybe watching a tree directly ahead that houses something, I think racoon or possum. 

The turkeys were still traveling in groups but are probably separated into mating pairs now. 

My garden maintenance is in full swing and has been for over a month. Last year's rains boosted many plants and we are seeing incredible bloom in the gardens. It has been a heavenly spring!

A trip to my daughters house for Easter revealed a forest of pawpaw trees, all in flower, they had no idea there were so many and the grandkids had their first pawpaw tasting last summer as they gathered them creekside. The pawpaw tree has also been aided by the unusually wet year of 2018, so it may be a record year for fruit.

Little Junebug will turn 2 next week and she is such a precious little granddaughter. With our last visit she dressed as a veterinarian and tried to put a cloth mask on Duke's face. 

He's patient, kind and gentle, but not so sure about the practicality of a mask for the dog.

There have been frantic times in the studio creating pieces to put in the gallery in Occoquan. There are a few reveals but I will save that for May, which I hope is calmer. 

 

Maple Syrup

On the cusp of spring, closer to winter, across a broad swath of northern North America, maple trees are being tapped for sap. Quebec, Canada is the highest producer of maple syrup, followed by the state of Vermont, a product that is unique to this continent.
The sugar maple or Acer saccharum is not the only maple that produces sweet sap, but the one with the highest sugar content. Occasionally I have icicles where sapsuckers have drilled into my tree, and these are mildly sweet, which is a nice treat on a cold day. The southern most regions of maple syrup production are in the mountains of West Virginia and Virginia with a Maple Syrup Festival in Monterey, Virginia. This year's dates are March 9-10 and 16-17.
The flow of sap relies on two events, nights below 32 degrees followed by a day of 40 degrees or more. The entire process ends when freezing nights stop, so February and early March are the only months for maple sap harvests. Naturally there is a longer freeze cycle in northern climates, where the harvest is extended. Either way, production will vary from year to year, region to region.

Historically the trees were tapped with metal spouts that held a bucket. Each large tree can hold numerous buckets and be repeatedly tapped. The tree will heal and seal over past drill sites over the course of a year. Modern collecting uses tubes that connect the trees and flow with gravity or incorporate a vacuum to speed up the process.

The raw sap is 98% water, which is boiled off, the steam escaping through open roofs in sugar shacks. To avoid burning, more sap is gradually added in large vats which are heated with wood fires that burn day and night. The process is labor and time intensive with a goal of 6% sugar content.

In recent years a process has been developed which separates water from sugar by forcing the sap through filters with high pressure, reducing the amount of liquid to boil down. Both time and wood for fires are reduced, with the extra water often diverted and stored in tanks for alternative uses.

Outside of Monterey, Virginia in the small town of Hightown there is a sugar camp, the Rexrode's Sugar Orchard. Home to a long line of Rexrodes, my husband's uncle ran the operation until he passed and it is now operated by a grandson. The maple trees are many and very old, 200 to 250 years old, highlighted in the book "Remarkable Trees of Virginia". If you visit, it's an uphill climb from Monterey, the hills are steep, the landscape beautiful. Coined "Virginia's Little Switzerland", it’s been said that settlers thought it looked like home and decided to stay. Conventional agriculture is challenging, most farmers raise sheep with some cattle and/or turkeys.

In the sugar shacks it's warm and steamy. Large vats filled with sap boil away; the vats on in the Rexrode Sugar Orchard produce 9 gallons of maple syrup each. Rarely enough for the surge of visitors which also come for the concentrated maple sugar candy, which is left in the bottom of the vat once the liquid is removed. They called them clinkers, which is probably a local term because I find no mention of them on the internet. In my case, clinkers don't make it home, so tasty and delicious, they are consumed with delight.

Wildlife

My stealth cameras have been repositioned to the wilder parts of the farm. Two days after our last snow storm I ventured out and was able to see how traffic moved by the prints in the snow. Apparently deer paths are not just used by deer. Even as I walked to the further edges of the property, a flock of turkeys lifted off and I initially mistook them for geese, there were so many. 

After hearing the cry of coyotes this summer and fall, I was curious about them and what numbers we may have on the farm. To date they have been very elusive. One of the cameras took a photograph at night of a coyote, otherwise nothing. There are still some areas to explore, but I am enjoying the photographs and sharing some of the most recent captures.

I've moved the cameras again so stay posted for more.

 

 

Tithonia and Stealth Cams

The biggest draw in the garden today were the leftover stalks of tithonia. Birds of all sorts feasted while it snowed, climbing in and out of the tangled stalks, breathing new life into something that's been dead since fall. Commonly known as the Mexican sunflower, I allowed 7 seedlings to grow to maturity, those 7 occupied a bed that was 16 feet long and 4 feet wide. They are beasts when it comes to largeness of an annual. 

Valuable as a nectar plant for butterflies, it might be even more sought after by birds in winter. No other plant draws so much attention on a snowy day. So as your flower catalogs begin to arrive, consider tithonia and don't cut the stems in fall! 

Since last spring I placed a couple of stealth cam's out in the yard and garden. My goal was to move them around, in time moving them to the furthest section of the farm to record the coyote population. Most photographs were pretty boring, the mower going by, the dog triggering the camera, etc. I started with them directly on the ground and eventually strapped them to a tree or used a monopod. Just recently I moved one to the other side of the farm, in time I will share what shows up, but here are a few while the camera was in the garden. Interestingly enough, a deer (or a few?) would walk on the same path, within 5 minutes of the same time, everyday. I have spared you the deer photographs, but here are a few that I found interesting. I actually liked having the camera on the ground, you know "bird's eye view". 

The dates and times have been corrected on the newly placed cameras. My hope is to also see the turkeys, which have grown in numbers and seem to be doing well, despite what I know or hear as large coyote packs. Some of the new cameras will record video as well, so this will be very interesting. Stay tuned.

 

Mild in the Middle

It's that time of year when the woolly caterpillars are traveling. I'm not sure if they do it for several months, or I just remember that they cross the highways in September. As a naturalist, or a lover of nature, I veer a bit as I drive, trying to avoid smashing them.

Woolly caterpillars don't seem to be going in any one direction. Yesterday I saw two pass each other, one traveling east, and the other west. Folklore will tell you that if their all headed south, winter will be cold. Folklore will also tell you that the bands of black and brown can predict when winter will be cold or mild. 

The common woolly caterpillar is the larvae of the tiger moth. In this case the term "common" is key, there are over 200 species of tiger moths. The scientific name for the one that so frequently crosses the road is Pyrrhactia isabella or the Isabella tiger moth. She, and I will always think of her as a she, was born from an egg in fall. 

These seemingly misdirected wanderers are looking for a place to spend the winter, a dark and sheltered spot. The bristles act like insulation, slowing down the effects of freezing temperatures. Internally the caterpillar won't freeze, a chemical protects them, in fact they can survive -90 degrees Fahrenheit. 

In their larval stage there are many food choices. Preferences are dandelions, sunflowers, nettles, and greens like cabbage, and spinach. The actual Isabella tiger moth will emerge from a cocoon in spring, living a few days and laying eggs for the generation before these October babies. 

There are 13 segments or little ridges on their body, we also have thirteen weeks of winter (December 21 - March 20), hence the belief that they can predict our winter weather. Typically you have black bands at each end and brown in the middle. Black means cold, brown means less cold, or milder. 

Some of the most profoundly intelligent gardeners will rely on the markings of the wooly caterpillar to predict winter. Of course there are other indicators; the thickness of an acorn shell and/or the height of a bees nest, which is best expressed with this old rhyme;  "See how high the hornets’ nest, twill tell how high the snow will rest". 

I decided a long time ago that I was a terrible predictor of winter. Those of us that have outdoor jobs are often relied upon for this kind of predictive power. Of course I observe the wooly caterpillars as they cross my path, and the bee's nests, and numerous other age old beliefs. But I don't count those wooly bands and mark my calendar, or crack open an acorn and measure its shell. 

Knowingly or unknowingly, the wooly caterpillar has been right for a couple of years, or at least pretty darn close. Last winter came in very cold and fast, February say a big thaw, and March was rudely cold. So cold was last March and the March before that I have come to expect it. 

Giving the weatherman some credit, the real prediction is for a milder winter with a weak El Nino. Today’s woolly caterpillar sported a thin black band for late December, a long brown band, and then a nasty looking black band to end it all. Seems pretty clear to me, but then I don't make these predictions.