The Steps-MARCY Woods, fort Erie, Ontario Earl Plato
New steps at Marcy Woods! Over fifty or so leading
steeply up the ridge. A secure railing supports us. Thanks to the DiCienzo family efforts for the complete restoration. I have slipped falling both up and down these steep steps. We have helped repair parts at time. After Dr. Marcy‘s death good maintenance was lost.. No longer now. My photo below shows the new steps that are greatly improved.
Where are you climbing to? You are on the Upper Trail. Turn left and you are heading east. There are secure railings all along. The deep holes that you had to climb in and out are all filled now. You walk on a much more level walkway. Soon you come to a path leading south to the old Marcy cabin. The DiCienzos have restored and cleared this pathway of fallen trees. Again old steps have been replaced. Great! However, we walk back and are taking the Upper Trail that I have called the Bird Trail. This narrow pathway follows the Lower Trail below in a horseshoe fashion. It too ends at the cabin. It is not an easy walk. You are up hill and dale. You eventually reach a ridge. Once you surmount this forested sand hill you are at the highest point. Below is Marcy pond and to the south you can see and hear Lake Erie. Time for a rest. Here each year we see and hear the Red bellied woodpeckers. On occasion we may hear the loud tapping of he huge Pileated woodpeckers in the wetlands to the north.. In spring you may see a variety of migratory birds, It was here we saw a Wilson’s warbler. Birders take some time to enjoy the Bird Trail. Each spring white trilliums border the walkway as they do on the Lower Trail. One year deep in a vale below we saw a fox vixen and two young pups frolicking. Shiny red coats on them all.
The Upper Trail is not an easy walk. Yet in 2009 armed with my trusty walking staff I will walk up the steps and venture on to the Bird Trail of the Upper Trail at Marcy Woods.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
The Steps
The Steps-MARCY Woods, fort Erie, Ontario Earl Plato
New steps at Marcy Woods! Over fifty or so leading
steeply up the ridge. A secure railing supports us. Thanks to the DiCienzo family efforts for the complete restoration. I have slipped falling both up and down these steep steps. We have helped repair parts at time. After Dr. Marcy‘s death good maintenance was lost.. No longer now. My photo below shows the new steps that are greatly improved.
Where are you climbing to? You are on the Upper Trail. Turn left and you are heading east. There are secure railings all along. The deep holes that you had to climb in and out are all filled now. You walk on a much more level walkway. Soon you come to a path leading south to the old Marcy cabin. The DiCienzos have restored and cleared this pathway of fallen trees. Again old steps have been replaced. Great! However, we walk back and are taking the Upper Trail that I have called the Bird Trail. This narrow pathway follows the Lower Trail below in a horseshoe fashion. It too ends at the cabin. It is not an easy walk. You are up hill and dale. You eenually reach a ridge. Once you surmount this forested sand hill you are at the highest point. Below is Marcy pond and to the south you can see and hear Lake Erie. Time for a rest. Here each year we see and hear the Red bellied woodpeckers. On occasion we mav hear the loud tapping of he huge Pileated woodpeckers in the wetlands to the north.. In spring you may see a variety of migratory birds, It was here we saw a Wilson’s warbler. Birders take some time to enjoy the Bird Trail. Each spring white trilliums border the walkway as they do on the Lower Trail. One year deep in a vale below we saw a fox vixen and three young pups frolicking. Shiny red coats on them all.
The Upper Trail is not an easy walk. Yet in 2009 armed with my trusty walking staff I will walk up the steps and venture on to the Bird Trail of the Upper Trail at Marcy Woods.
New steps at Marcy Woods! Over fifty or so leading
steeply up the ridge. A secure railing supports us. Thanks to the DiCienzo family efforts for the complete restoration. I have slipped falling both up and down these steep steps. We have helped repair parts at time. After Dr. Marcy‘s death good maintenance was lost.. No longer now. My photo below shows the new steps that are greatly improved.
Where are you climbing to? You are on the Upper Trail. Turn left and you are heading east. There are secure railings all along. The deep holes that you had to climb in and out are all filled now. You walk on a much more level walkway. Soon you come to a path leading south to the old Marcy cabin. The DiCienzos have restored and cleared this pathway of fallen trees. Again old steps have been replaced. Great! However, we walk back and are taking the Upper Trail that I have called the Bird Trail. This narrow pathway follows the Lower Trail below in a horseshoe fashion. It too ends at the cabin. It is not an easy walk. You are up hill and dale. You eenually reach a ridge. Once you surmount this forested sand hill you are at the highest point. Below is Marcy pond and to the south you can see and hear Lake Erie. Time for a rest. Here each year we see and hear the Red bellied woodpeckers. On occasion we mav hear the loud tapping of he huge Pileated woodpeckers in the wetlands to the north.. In spring you may see a variety of migratory birds, It was here we saw a Wilson’s warbler. Birders take some time to enjoy the Bird Trail. Each spring white trilliums border the walkway as they do on the Lower Trail. One year deep in a vale below we saw a fox vixen and three young pups frolicking. Shiny red coats on them all.
The Upper Trail is not an easy walk. Yet in 2009 armed with my trusty walking staff I will walk up the steps and venture on to the Bird Trail of the Upper Trail at Marcy Woods.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Spiders
Never Too Old Earl Plato
How old is old? In nature there are always exceptions. Some animals seem to live actively much longer than their specie’s normal average life span. This so-called anomaly occurs in humans too. The late Fort Erie naturalist, Bert Miller, died at 91. When he was 86 He went with me and my Grade Eight class to Point Abino. Back then we had permission to enter the Baird property. We walked the west coast to the Abino lighthouse. Along the way this remarkably alert senior would stop to share with us something from the natural surroundings. An amazing man! On Wednesday, October 27th I took a 87 year old Buffalo naturalist, John Lessle, to Short Hills Provincial Park. John was a life-long friend of the late Dr. George Marcy and walked Marcy Woods for over more than 60 decades! That is where I first met John deep in Marcy Woods in 1984. John is an excellent nature photographer. I have learned from him. Both men, Bert and John, were and are excellent walkers and at 86 and 87 years of age respectively they could put many of us to shame on a hike. I know for I have experienced their hiking prowess. Regular walking, good weather and bad, seemed to be one of their secrets to longevity. How old is old? Get walking this week on a regular basis. You’re never too old!
***
Spiders anyone? Daughter Diane called me in mid-November from her Wainfleet home. “Dad, you have to see our front fields.” Her description of the large front fields were of a blanket of spider webs glistening in the morning light. Its fall and spider time. What Order of Aranceae? We think that they are in the Orb family and specifically Grass spiders. If there are we would see two dark bands on the thorax and lighter bans on the edges. They are found in grassy areas throughout North America. Grass spiders are funnel-web weavers. There is a characteristic funnel extending off from the centre to one edge. The spider hides within. Note the web is not sticky but threads hand down over the opening. Flying insects hit one of the threads and fall down. He is an insect eater. This quick running spider depends on speed to capture its prey. The Grass spider is just one of many species of Orb spiders. Yes, Diane bought me an Audubon Field Guide to Spiders for my birthday. It’s a whole new world to explore.
How old is old? In nature there are always exceptions. Some animals seem to live actively much longer than their specie’s normal average life span. This so-called anomaly occurs in humans too. The late Fort Erie naturalist, Bert Miller, died at 91. When he was 86 He went with me and my Grade Eight class to Point Abino. Back then we had permission to enter the Baird property. We walked the west coast to the Abino lighthouse. Along the way this remarkably alert senior would stop to share with us something from the natural surroundings. An amazing man! On Wednesday, October 27th I took a 87 year old Buffalo naturalist, John Lessle, to Short Hills Provincial Park. John was a life-long friend of the late Dr. George Marcy and walked Marcy Woods for over more than 60 decades! That is where I first met John deep in Marcy Woods in 1984. John is an excellent nature photographer. I have learned from him. Both men, Bert and John, were and are excellent walkers and at 86 and 87 years of age respectively they could put many of us to shame on a hike. I know for I have experienced their hiking prowess. Regular walking, good weather and bad, seemed to be one of their secrets to longevity. How old is old? Get walking this week on a regular basis. You’re never too old!
***
Spiders anyone? Daughter Diane called me in mid-November from her Wainfleet home. “Dad, you have to see our front fields.” Her description of the large front fields were of a blanket of spider webs glistening in the morning light. Its fall and spider time. What Order of Aranceae? We think that they are in the Orb family and specifically Grass spiders. If there are we would see two dark bands on the thorax and lighter bans on the edges. They are found in grassy areas throughout North America. Grass spiders are funnel-web weavers. There is a characteristic funnel extending off from the centre to one edge. The spider hides within. Note the web is not sticky but threads hand down over the opening. Flying insects hit one of the threads and fall down. He is an insect eater. This quick running spider depends on speed to capture its prey. The Grass spider is just one of many species of Orb spiders. Yes, Diane bought me an Audubon Field Guide to Spiders for my birthday. It’s a whole new world to explore.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Bus Trips- Nature Calls
BransonTrip Earl Plato
Extras on a bus trip holiday means to me finding some nature connections. On a bus trip to Branson, Missouri our bus driver took us on a side trip to a State Fish Hatchery on the outskirts. Our driver had been there before and told me there was an interesting Nature Center on the location. It really was and I met the Ranger and I spent over a good half hour learning about Missouri’s flora and fauna. I was given several booklets that were well presented. I still had time to see the fingerlings and full grown Brown trout. Looking for nature elements on a bus trip is usually one of my goals.
This Branson side trip was inspired by my questioning our bus driver about a dead snake. First off the bus I said, “That’s a young Diamond Back.” The driver agreed as he took a branch and threw the snake, three rattles and all to the left of the bus before we unloaded. “There’s a good nature center down there,” as he pointed to the large building below. “ They have a serpentarium in there.” “No need to tell the women and snake fearers,” he said. I still have those excellent full coloured booklets. It was a great side trip.
***
I really am an Andersen not an Anderson. “En” endings on surnames are usually Danish and Norwegian. “On” endings are usually Swedish. My grandfather came to America in the 1880’s and was asked his name at the immigration office. His reply was, “Andersen.” The officer wrote “Anderson” on his entry certificate and thus “e” became “o.” Anderson my family name would be. This day in July we were in “en” country, Denmark. Here we were, brother Ed and two cousins, in a beautiful country. We had just left the home city of Odense where famed story teller Hans Christian Andersen had worked and lived. We were travelling by Petersen Tours on a well appointed bus. Nature called and we had to stop. Where? You guessed it. It was a nature stop and I was thrilled. We were at the highest point in Denmark. Don’t get excited, This is essentially very flat land. We unloaded at the fabled Forest of Rold. Think of Fonthill topography with its rolling hills only with an abundance of trees covering the area.
“We’ll give you an hour,” the driver called out.
‘As old as a tree in the Forest of Rold ...” thus said an old Danish proverb. To stress the age of something really old in Denmark, one compared it with a tree in the Forest of Rold. I left the others and headed for the forest over the wooden bridge. Any ogres underneath? Old trees? The photo shows no towering trees. I was disappointed but I also knew that Earl can get lost despite his oft repeated belief that he can’t. Birds all around. Sparrows, warblers and the long-tailed Magpie hopped around the open areas. A great break for me. Hey, there was also a small concentration of Purple loosestrife here. The information signs were in several different languages. I taped the following as I read it out. “The Forest of Rold has trees of great age. There are 250-350 year -old stunted beeches in the “Bewitched Wood”.
Could I cross the bridge and head for the old forest? Nature called and I must head back. No one around me at this particular spot on that warm day with a faint nist-like rain falling.
Back at the administrative building I picked up a brochure in English and read about this neat place. There were legends of notorious robbers, cheerful poachers and colourful woodsmen. Where were my compatriots? I stepped out of the Centre and there were Ed, Winnie and Margot. They told me what I had missed. Many famous persons had come to this centre. Queen Margrethe 2nd and Prince Frederick of Denmark. Past Presidents George Bush, Ronald Reagan and Richard Nixon wallked these paths and spoke from the platform across the way. Walt Disney, Danny Kaye, and other noted personalities had visited this great setting. We had only an hour but those other lucky visitors who had many more hours probably made it to the wonderful forest setting in “Bewitched Wood.”
Thanks to our bus driver who answered nature’s call that July day for this “nature nut”. Don’t be afraid to ask your bus driver about “nature” stops. You never know what you might experience.
Extras on a bus trip holiday means to me finding some nature connections. On a bus trip to Branson, Missouri our bus driver took us on a side trip to a State Fish Hatchery on the outskirts. Our driver had been there before and told me there was an interesting Nature Center on the location. It really was and I met the Ranger and I spent over a good half hour learning about Missouri’s flora and fauna. I was given several booklets that were well presented. I still had time to see the fingerlings and full grown Brown trout. Looking for nature elements on a bus trip is usually one of my goals.
This Branson side trip was inspired by my questioning our bus driver about a dead snake. First off the bus I said, “That’s a young Diamond Back.” The driver agreed as he took a branch and threw the snake, three rattles and all to the left of the bus before we unloaded. “There’s a good nature center down there,” as he pointed to the large building below. “ They have a serpentarium in there.” “No need to tell the women and snake fearers,” he said. I still have those excellent full coloured booklets. It was a great side trip.
***
I really am an Andersen not an Anderson. “En” endings on surnames are usually Danish and Norwegian. “On” endings are usually Swedish. My grandfather came to America in the 1880’s and was asked his name at the immigration office. His reply was, “Andersen.” The officer wrote “Anderson” on his entry certificate and thus “e” became “o.” Anderson my family name would be. This day in July we were in “en” country, Denmark. Here we were, brother Ed and two cousins, in a beautiful country. We had just left the home city of Odense where famed story teller Hans Christian Andersen had worked and lived. We were travelling by Petersen Tours on a well appointed bus. Nature called and we had to stop. Where? You guessed it. It was a nature stop and I was thrilled. We were at the highest point in Denmark. Don’t get excited, This is essentially very flat land. We unloaded at the fabled Forest of Rold. Think of Fonthill topography with its rolling hills only with an abundance of trees covering the area.
“We’ll give you an hour,” the driver called out.
‘As old as a tree in the Forest of Rold ...” thus said an old Danish proverb. To stress the age of something really old in Denmark, one compared it with a tree in the Forest of Rold. I left the others and headed for the forest over the wooden bridge. Any ogres underneath? Old trees? The photo shows no towering trees. I was disappointed but I also knew that Earl can get lost despite his oft repeated belief that he can’t. Birds all around. Sparrows, warblers and the long-tailed Magpie hopped around the open areas. A great break for me. Hey, there was also a small concentration of Purple loosestrife here. The information signs were in several different languages. I taped the following as I read it out. “The Forest of Rold has trees of great age. There are 250-350 year -old stunted beeches in the “Bewitched Wood”.
Could I cross the bridge and head for the old forest? Nature called and I must head back. No one around me at this particular spot on that warm day with a faint nist-like rain falling.
Back at the administrative building I picked up a brochure in English and read about this neat place. There were legends of notorious robbers, cheerful poachers and colourful woodsmen. Where were my compatriots? I stepped out of the Centre and there were Ed, Winnie and Margot. They told me what I had missed. Many famous persons had come to this centre. Queen Margrethe 2nd and Prince Frederick of Denmark. Past Presidents George Bush, Ronald Reagan and Richard Nixon wallked these paths and spoke from the platform across the way. Walt Disney, Danny Kaye, and other noted personalities had visited this great setting. We had only an hour but those other lucky visitors who had many more hours probably made it to the wonderful forest setting in “Bewitched Wood.”
Thanks to our bus driver who answered nature’s call that July day for this “nature nut”. Don’t be afraid to ask your bus driver about “nature” stops. You never know what you might experience.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Well I Swan
Well I Swan Earl Plato
A few years back on a cold blustery day in mid-November we drove to Abino Bay. There they were! Nestled in the bay and protected from the full force of lake Erie’s powerful winds we started the count. As we drove out for a closer look the number of the giant swans grew. I said to nature partner, Bob Chambers, “There must be at least a 100 Whistling swans!” We continued on to the Bertie Boat Club and turned around. Bob in the passenger seat and with much better eyesight than I began the count.
The beautiful birds were grouped in pockets. Carefully Bob counted. 50, 60,70, 80, 90 and then over a 100. His count 118 farther out in the bay and then closer into shore, very close, Bob counted 23 more. In total 141 Trumpeter swans here in Fort Erie. How long will they stay? I imagine when the winds subside they will be on their way south. We will check them out tomorrow morning.
9:32 a.m.m Nov.17. Elaine and I head for Point Abino. Not one Whistling swan in sight! The winds have subsided some so it’s off again for our swans to warmer climes.
Each Fall large numbers of Whistling swans pause briefly on the Great Lakes before moving to their winter quarters along the Atlantic coast. They are closely related to the Trumpeter swan which has been reduced to near extinction. The Whistling or Tundra swan breeds in the Arctic tundra. Not many hunters there so it continues to thrive. The Trumpeter, however, breeds in our western provinces and is more accessible to hunters. Both these birds are magnificent species.
We plan to check Abino Bay on a regular basis. “Here today and gone tomorrow.” With a Timmy’s in hand it’s a good morning’s destination.
Bob Chambers and I could hear the mellow, rich bugling calls as they rested in the Abino Bay. Will others stop over? I hope so.
Drive out to the end of Point Abino Road and look for these great birds. You never know. My E-mail is changed. It’s earplato@enoreo.on.ca. Be in touch - nature wise.
***
Hockey weekend in Ontario. We headed out this Friday to see grandson, Jage Noble, play for the Niagara Falls Major PeeWee AAA in the Waterloo Tournament. That means Elaine and I will have some time to kill. Is it shopping for her and/or a nature ramble to Homer Watson Nature Park? This park is a fine example of Carolinian forest. There are fair-sized trees including one of my favourite species - an impressive “old growth” of Eastern hemlocks. High bluffs give an excellent view of the Grand River especially now this fall with most of the leaves down.
Shopping and a nature walk. Now I hope Niagara Falls wins the games.
A few years back on a cold blustery day in mid-November we drove to Abino Bay. There they were! Nestled in the bay and protected from the full force of lake Erie’s powerful winds we started the count. As we drove out for a closer look the number of the giant swans grew. I said to nature partner, Bob Chambers, “There must be at least a 100 Whistling swans!” We continued on to the Bertie Boat Club and turned around. Bob in the passenger seat and with much better eyesight than I began the count.
The beautiful birds were grouped in pockets. Carefully Bob counted. 50, 60,70, 80, 90 and then over a 100. His count 118 farther out in the bay and then closer into shore, very close, Bob counted 23 more. In total 141 Trumpeter swans here in Fort Erie. How long will they stay? I imagine when the winds subside they will be on their way south. We will check them out tomorrow morning.
9:32 a.m.m Nov.17. Elaine and I head for Point Abino. Not one Whistling swan in sight! The winds have subsided some so it’s off again for our swans to warmer climes.
Each Fall large numbers of Whistling swans pause briefly on the Great Lakes before moving to their winter quarters along the Atlantic coast. They are closely related to the Trumpeter swan which has been reduced to near extinction. The Whistling or Tundra swan breeds in the Arctic tundra. Not many hunters there so it continues to thrive. The Trumpeter, however, breeds in our western provinces and is more accessible to hunters. Both these birds are magnificent species.
We plan to check Abino Bay on a regular basis. “Here today and gone tomorrow.” With a Timmy’s in hand it’s a good morning’s destination.
Bob Chambers and I could hear the mellow, rich bugling calls as they rested in the Abino Bay. Will others stop over? I hope so.
Drive out to the end of Point Abino Road and look for these great birds. You never know. My E-mail is changed. It’s earplato@enoreo.on.ca. Be in touch - nature wise.
***
Hockey weekend in Ontario. We headed out this Friday to see grandson, Jage Noble, play for the Niagara Falls Major PeeWee AAA in the Waterloo Tournament. That means Elaine and I will have some time to kill. Is it shopping for her and/or a nature ramble to Homer Watson Nature Park? This park is a fine example of Carolinian forest. There are fair-sized trees including one of my favourite species - an impressive “old growth” of Eastern hemlocks. High bluffs give an excellent view of the Grand River especially now this fall with most of the leaves down.
Shopping and a nature walk. Now I hope Niagara Falls wins the games.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Four Years Ago
Nature Calls Four Years Ago Earl Plato
We were away heading west to Lake Huron. No one told me about the Review article. C’mon Plato, that’s your excuse? Truly, I missed the piece about Marcy Woods. I assume friends thought I knew. In the article Mr. Dino DiCienzo Sr. is standing before the Marcy cabin. I recently received a copy of that September piece from a reader of my nature column. Review reporter, Corey Larocque, has a good write-up for many reasons. I now have some hope. John Lessle, nature photographer from Buffalo, called the other day.
John is a wiry 86 year old. He asked, “Earl, how about chances of walking Marcy Woods this spring?” I told him that the new owners have ‘no trespassing signs’ at the Marcy farm. This is understandable.
However, good news from the new owners, the DiCienzos, for us nature lovers. Their mandate is that if visitors respect the Woods as nature lovers they are welcome there for hiking. No farm entry anymore but access through the regular entrance at the Kennels will be possible. That’s all I ask for John and me and other nature lovers. Thanks for the opportunity to visit an old friend, Marcy Woods, with an old American friend. The “Marcy Legacy” lives on. Thank you Mr. DiCienzo.
We were away heading west to Lake Huron. No one told me about the Review article. C’mon Plato, that’s your excuse? Truly, I missed the piece about Marcy Woods. I assume friends thought I knew. In the article Mr. Dino DiCienzo Sr. is standing before the Marcy cabin. I recently received a copy of that September piece from a reader of my nature column. Review reporter, Corey Larocque, has a good write-up for many reasons. I now have some hope. John Lessle, nature photographer from Buffalo, called the other day.
John is a wiry 86 year old. He asked, “Earl, how about chances of walking Marcy Woods this spring?” I told him that the new owners have ‘no trespassing signs’ at the Marcy farm. This is understandable.
However, good news from the new owners, the DiCienzos, for us nature lovers. Their mandate is that if visitors respect the Woods as nature lovers they are welcome there for hiking. No farm entry anymore but access through the regular entrance at the Kennels will be possible. That’s all I ask for John and me and other nature lovers. Thanks for the opportunity to visit an old friend, Marcy Woods, with an old American friend. The “Marcy Legacy” lives on. Thank you Mr. DiCienzo.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Rhino Time
Bellrhino.08 Earl Plato
We were on our second drive through the fenced African Lion Safari landscape on that bright sunny August afternoon. This time it was close-ups of the behemoth - the rhinoceros. This sunny day the rhino group rested. Only one huge beast separated himself from the small enclave. I learned that these White rhinos are gray coloured. How come “white”? Remember their native home is South Africa. Early Dutch settlers there called them “weit” rhinos. Why? It was in reference to its wide (weit) square muzzle adapted for grazing. Confusing, eh? Note these white rhinos have a pronounced hump on the neck and a long face. Two horns on all rhinos (white and black) and the bigger one sits at the front of he nose. It is that horn that is prized in Asia.. It is sought for uses in traditional medicine and ornamental carvings. Our safari rhinos are saved from that pursuit.
We were told the White rhino male is the larger of the two species - over two tons! Wow! Our big guy was over twenty years. Life span 35-40 years.
No charging at us. Their eyesight is poor which may explain why hese often ill-tempered animals will charge without apparent reason. Their sense of smell and hearing are very good. On both trips no sounds from them but we learned that they have an extended vocabulary of growls, grunts, squeaks, snorts and bellows. I can picture their charge - frightening. The white rhino lowers its head, snorts, breaks into a gallop reaching speeds of up to 30 miles an hour. Using its sharp horn it gores or strikes powerful blows with its both horns. The white rhino is very agile and can quickly turn in a small space. Would be hunters - leave him a alone.
Our White rhino was content to munch on the grass,
We were on our second drive through the fenced African Lion Safari landscape on that bright sunny August afternoon. This time it was close-ups of the behemoth - the rhinoceros. This sunny day the rhino group rested. Only one huge beast separated himself from the small enclave. I learned that these White rhinos are gray coloured. How come “white”? Remember their native home is South Africa. Early Dutch settlers there called them “weit” rhinos. Why? It was in reference to its wide (weit) square muzzle adapted for grazing. Confusing, eh? Note these white rhinos have a pronounced hump on the neck and a long face. Two horns on all rhinos (white and black) and the bigger one sits at the front of he nose. It is that horn that is prized in Asia.. It is sought for uses in traditional medicine and ornamental carvings. Our safari rhinos are saved from that pursuit.
We were told the White rhino male is the larger of the two species - over two tons! Wow! Our big guy was over twenty years. Life span 35-40 years.
No charging at us. Their eyesight is poor which may explain why hese often ill-tempered animals will charge without apparent reason. Their sense of smell and hearing are very good. On both trips no sounds from them but we learned that they have an extended vocabulary of growls, grunts, squeaks, snorts and bellows. I can picture their charge - frightening. The white rhino lowers its head, snorts, breaks into a gallop reaching speeds of up to 30 miles an hour. Using its sharp horn it gores or strikes powerful blows with its both horns. The white rhino is very agile and can quickly turn in a small space. Would be hunters - leave him a alone.
Our White rhino was content to munch on the grass,
Monday, July 7, 2008
I like Fungi
Confession Bell article by Earl Plato
Fungi Finds: I have four beautifully coloured fungi photos on my walls. The late nature photographer John Lessle from Buffalo, New York photographed all of these in Marcy Woods. I confess that I love mushrooms. We went on a walk in Marcy Woods a past spring and found different mushrooms (fungi). An expert on mushrooms led us. The late Dr. Robert Fisher PhD. of St. Catharines was our guide. Bob and his associate Eira Voth were scientists with a precise knowledge of fungi. By 10 a.m. we had signed in at Dr. Marcy’s farm and headed for the Woods. It was damp and ideal for mushroom growth. This was a three hour ramble of “find, stop, inspect, discuss, and preserve”. We found 39 fungi species. Dr. Fisher said excitedly four were new finds for him! Photos were taken of our finds. The following Monday night Bob Fisher was our guest speaker at the Bert Miller Nature Club. His slide show and his displays of fungi were outstanding. He again pointed to the danger of eating just any mushroom. Some of his examples were that of the Amanita Genus that are deadly poisonous. Bob Fisher was an accomplished nature artist and had shows throughout the Niagara peninsula. He had two of his great mushroom paintings there. Wonderful detail. Another area naturalist who will be missed.
***
On the Trail - Keith Bailey of Crescent Park on his daily walks on the Friendship Trail sees a pair of white-tailed deer. We walked to Six Mile Creek bridge on the Trail and saw a little mud turtle paddling away. To the south were a pair of mallards. Then all three of us saw a water snake swimming swiftly across the creek. A few minutes later wife, Elaine, spotted an even larger water snake also swimming from the east bank to the west side. What do you know about the Eastern water snake? They are non-venomous but ugly looking serpents. Wait! I handled one at the Ridge Fest on July 5th . Rob Eberly of the Bert Miller Nature Club said, “Want to handle one, Earl?“ I did. There not so ugly after all! Check them out on the internet then go to Six Mile Creek this early summer and try to see one, eh.
Fungi Finds: I have four beautifully coloured fungi photos on my walls. The late nature photographer John Lessle from Buffalo, New York photographed all of these in Marcy Woods. I confess that I love mushrooms. We went on a walk in Marcy Woods a past spring and found different mushrooms (fungi). An expert on mushrooms led us. The late Dr. Robert Fisher PhD. of St. Catharines was our guide. Bob and his associate Eira Voth were scientists with a precise knowledge of fungi. By 10 a.m. we had signed in at Dr. Marcy’s farm and headed for the Woods. It was damp and ideal for mushroom growth. This was a three hour ramble of “find, stop, inspect, discuss, and preserve”. We found 39 fungi species. Dr. Fisher said excitedly four were new finds for him! Photos were taken of our finds. The following Monday night Bob Fisher was our guest speaker at the Bert Miller Nature Club. His slide show and his displays of fungi were outstanding. He again pointed to the danger of eating just any mushroom. Some of his examples were that of the Amanita Genus that are deadly poisonous. Bob Fisher was an accomplished nature artist and had shows throughout the Niagara peninsula. He had two of his great mushroom paintings there. Wonderful detail. Another area naturalist who will be missed.
***
On the Trail - Keith Bailey of Crescent Park on his daily walks on the Friendship Trail sees a pair of white-tailed deer. We walked to Six Mile Creek bridge on the Trail and saw a little mud turtle paddling away. To the south were a pair of mallards. Then all three of us saw a water snake swimming swiftly across the creek. A few minutes later wife, Elaine, spotted an even larger water snake also swimming from the east bank to the west side. What do you know about the Eastern water snake? They are non-venomous but ugly looking serpents. Wait! I handled one at the Ridge Fest on July 5th . Rob Eberly of the Bert Miller Nature Club said, “Want to handle one, Earl?“ I did. There not so ugly after all! Check them out on the internet then go to Six Mile Creek this early summer and try to see one, eh.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Time Off for Earl
To my readers. As of June 9, 2008 this nature
Blog contributor, Earl Plato, is taking a month off.
BUT keep searching the web for nature offerings.
Blog contributor, Earl Plato, is taking a month off.
BUT keep searching the web for nature offerings.
Disappointed
Disappointed by Earl Plato
Disappointed? Yes. Very much so. A group of us are heading to Pelee Island this month. This southern most island in Canada is found in western Lake Erie. Beyond it and further south is a small unpopulated island. I will never see this Middle island. Yes, it has rare fauna and flora. The Nature Conservancy of Canada spent a few years ago circa 2 million dollars to purchase it. Will you ever see it? I don’t think so.
Case in point. Thousands and thousands have walked the Marcy Woods trails. This beautiful piece of land was accessible to nature lovers over the years thanks to the caring Marcys. What’s the cost? No comparison to me as to the relative value between Marcy Woods and that small uninhabited Lake Erie island. It’s obvious - the Ontario government must spear head the final effort lead by our MPP Tim Hudak. Fort Erie residents who love Marcy Woods know where Mayor Wayne Redekop stands. This is it! Preserve Marcy Woods for future generations or just have memories!
***
“Hey, Earl, you want to check out the Marcy Alvar?” Rob Eberly continues to amaze me. I like to think that I have some thirst for natural history. My writing should help to attest to that but Rob has an unquenchable thirst for our flora and fauna. More than I ever had.
Alvar? My mind tried to recall - What’s an Alvar? Look it up, eh?
Alvar is an Estonian word that describes a limestone plain covered with scattered vegetation that endures extreme wet and dry conditions. Rob was on the search for some relatively rare flora. Alvars have their own unique flora that takes advantage of the extreme variations in moisture and the highly calcified soil and bedrock openings.
The Marcy property has a strip of land fronting on Matthews Road on the east side of the farm. Exposed bed rock with old-field thickets - an ideal spot for a parking lot if the Nature Conservancy of Canada ever secures the property for nature lovers. Wait! This is Alvar country. According to Rob there are plant species that occur few other places in Canada. Yes, famed Pelee Island has Alvars too. Check the snakes and butterflies that live in the Marcy Alvar. Rob Eberly, Ridgeway naturalist, knows.
Disappointed? Yes. Very much so. A group of us are heading to Pelee Island this month. This southern most island in Canada is found in western Lake Erie. Beyond it and further south is a small unpopulated island. I will never see this Middle island. Yes, it has rare fauna and flora. The Nature Conservancy of Canada spent a few years ago circa 2 million dollars to purchase it. Will you ever see it? I don’t think so.
Case in point. Thousands and thousands have walked the Marcy Woods trails. This beautiful piece of land was accessible to nature lovers over the years thanks to the caring Marcys. What’s the cost? No comparison to me as to the relative value between Marcy Woods and that small uninhabited Lake Erie island. It’s obvious - the Ontario government must spear head the final effort lead by our MPP Tim Hudak. Fort Erie residents who love Marcy Woods know where Mayor Wayne Redekop stands. This is it! Preserve Marcy Woods for future generations or just have memories!
***
“Hey, Earl, you want to check out the Marcy Alvar?” Rob Eberly continues to amaze me. I like to think that I have some thirst for natural history. My writing should help to attest to that but Rob has an unquenchable thirst for our flora and fauna. More than I ever had.
Alvar? My mind tried to recall - What’s an Alvar? Look it up, eh?
Alvar is an Estonian word that describes a limestone plain covered with scattered vegetation that endures extreme wet and dry conditions. Rob was on the search for some relatively rare flora. Alvars have their own unique flora that takes advantage of the extreme variations in moisture and the highly calcified soil and bedrock openings.
The Marcy property has a strip of land fronting on Matthews Road on the east side of the farm. Exposed bed rock with old-field thickets - an ideal spot for a parking lot if the Nature Conservancy of Canada ever secures the property for nature lovers. Wait! This is Alvar country. According to Rob there are plant species that occur few other places in Canada. Yes, famed Pelee Island has Alvars too. Check the snakes and butterflies that live in the Marcy Alvar. Rob Eberly, Ridgeway naturalist, knows.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Reflections
The Green Dragon Earl Plato
“Remember now they Creator in the days of thy youth” The Bible gives much instruction for leading a worthwhile life. The memories of my father and his friend, Bert Miller, well up in my memory as I recall those many days when we rambled Lincoln and Welland counties. As e approach Father’s Day 2008 let us reflect on some of these relationships.
Some memories of your youth are not as clear as others. This one fits into the “fuzzy” recollection.
One Saturday ramble was close to Bert’s home in the north end of Fort Erie. Father, Perc, and I had examined Bert’s skills of grafting at his Highland home. Bert said to my father let’s go to the springs. We parked on Thompson Road and entered the thick, thorny underbrush and headed eastwards. We found a spring bubbling up with the malodorous smell of sulphur, A hundred feet further in from the bend of the creek we found a clear, flowing spring of fresh, cool water. It was so clear you good look far down into the opening. That was many decades ago. Guess what? Thanks to Rob Eberly we found that same bubbling spring and something more.
I had written recently about two Marcy Woods plants, Skunk cabbage and Duckweed. Here deep in the woods next to the bubbling spring was a rare plant. Rob Eberly had found it and I want to share a little about the Green dragon plant.
It is usually a solitary greenish plant a relative of our Jack-in-the-pulpit. Unlike the “Jack” the Green dragon has a small hood. As we looked at it we noticed that the spadix protruded several inches below the hood. This is what is called the “dragon’s tongue.” This solitary plant was about two feet high. We returned in the fall and all that was left of the tall plant were orange, red and green berries. No, I didn’t take any.
Writer’s Note: As with the Jack-in-the-pulpit, the tuberous taproot of this plant can burn the mouth severely if ingested uncooked. I still recall the cries of Jim who had bitten into the tuber of a “Jack” many years ago. Jim had been warned by our scoutmaster. Some of us learn the hard way, eh.
***
April in Marcy Woods. Neil Reichelt, nature photographer, and I walked the Lower Trail of these beloved woods. Cool, too cool. At the entrance we listened for the sounds of frogs. Not a sound! We walked in and stopped while Neil took a shot of the two towering Norway spruces. This is where we saw a Southern flying squirrel glide from the top of one tree to the other. Neil took shots all along the way. We will use them for some articles.
We approached Marcy Pond this mid March and stopped and listened. No sounds of frogs at all. What gives? Were we too late? Just a little duckweed had started growing on the north edge of the pond. Birds? The caw of a crow and the very high trill of a Winter wren - that was it. We stopped at the cabin. Several trees had fallen along the Lower trail and cut up so you could walk. However, two trees that had fallen on the Upper Trail were still laying across the pathway. We descended the steps.
Marcy Woods is in a static state now but wait. To you who love nature, Marcy Woods will break out in colorful flowers and heart warming songs in just a little while. Believe me.
“Remember now they Creator in the days of thy youth” The Bible gives much instruction for leading a worthwhile life. The memories of my father and his friend, Bert Miller, well up in my memory as I recall those many days when we rambled Lincoln and Welland counties. As e approach Father’s Day 2008 let us reflect on some of these relationships.
Some memories of your youth are not as clear as others. This one fits into the “fuzzy” recollection.
One Saturday ramble was close to Bert’s home in the north end of Fort Erie. Father, Perc, and I had examined Bert’s skills of grafting at his Highland home. Bert said to my father let’s go to the springs. We parked on Thompson Road and entered the thick, thorny underbrush and headed eastwards. We found a spring bubbling up with the malodorous smell of sulphur, A hundred feet further in from the bend of the creek we found a clear, flowing spring of fresh, cool water. It was so clear you good look far down into the opening. That was many decades ago. Guess what? Thanks to Rob Eberly we found that same bubbling spring and something more.
I had written recently about two Marcy Woods plants, Skunk cabbage and Duckweed. Here deep in the woods next to the bubbling spring was a rare plant. Rob Eberly had found it and I want to share a little about the Green dragon plant.
It is usually a solitary greenish plant a relative of our Jack-in-the-pulpit. Unlike the “Jack” the Green dragon has a small hood. As we looked at it we noticed that the spadix protruded several inches below the hood. This is what is called the “dragon’s tongue.” This solitary plant was about two feet high. We returned in the fall and all that was left of the tall plant were orange, red and green berries. No, I didn’t take any.
Writer’s Note: As with the Jack-in-the-pulpit, the tuberous taproot of this plant can burn the mouth severely if ingested uncooked. I still recall the cries of Jim who had bitten into the tuber of a “Jack” many years ago. Jim had been warned by our scoutmaster. Some of us learn the hard way, eh.
***
April in Marcy Woods. Neil Reichelt, nature photographer, and I walked the Lower Trail of these beloved woods. Cool, too cool. At the entrance we listened for the sounds of frogs. Not a sound! We walked in and stopped while Neil took a shot of the two towering Norway spruces. This is where we saw a Southern flying squirrel glide from the top of one tree to the other. Neil took shots all along the way. We will use them for some articles.
We approached Marcy Pond this mid March and stopped and listened. No sounds of frogs at all. What gives? Were we too late? Just a little duckweed had started growing on the north edge of the pond. Birds? The caw of a crow and the very high trill of a Winter wren - that was it. We stopped at the cabin. Several trees had fallen along the Lower trail and cut up so you could walk. However, two trees that had fallen on the Upper Trail were still laying across the pathway. We descended the steps.
Marcy Woods is in a static state now but wait. To you who love nature, Marcy Woods will break out in colorful flowers and heart warming songs in just a little while. Believe me.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
oven bird -teacher,teacher
Ovenbird by Earl Plato
Deep into a wetlands with knee boots. Naturalist Ernie Giles, Debbie a botanist and me a nature lover sloshed along. South of Niagara Falls is an extensive wetlands called Willougby Marsh. No visible trails. Ernie our fauna nad flora expert stopped. There we three marvelled at the tallest Jack-in-the-Pulpit I had ever seen. Almost four feet tall! A Cooper’s hak soared over on this bright but very humid day. It was late June. Ernie Giles the complete naturalist. Keen eyesight, keen hearing and a wealth of knowledge makes up this man. Ernie stopped. He heard scratching sounds. He motioned to Debbie and I to stop. Look below. That was what we saw. An ovenbird was emerging from its nest. My first. This warbler gets it name from its peculiar ground nest. What we saw that day resembled a miniature Dutch oven. The ovenbird is olive-brown above and white below with dark streaks. Some call it a wood warbler. Ernie smiled at us two teachers. “Do you know its call?” it’s a loud staccato song - “teacher, teacher, teacher.”
We watched as the ovenbird oblivious to us entered its side entrance. A neat bird.
Deep into a wetlands with knee boots. Naturalist Ernie Giles, Debbie a botanist and me a nature lover sloshed along. South of Niagara Falls is an extensive wetlands called Willougby Marsh. No visible trails. Ernie our fauna nad flora expert stopped. There we three marvelled at the tallest Jack-in-the-Pulpit I had ever seen. Almost four feet tall! A Cooper’s hak soared over on this bright but very humid day. It was late June. Ernie Giles the complete naturalist. Keen eyesight, keen hearing and a wealth of knowledge makes up this man. Ernie stopped. He heard scratching sounds. He motioned to Debbie and I to stop. Look below. That was what we saw. An ovenbird was emerging from its nest. My first. This warbler gets it name from its peculiar ground nest. What we saw that day resembled a miniature Dutch oven. The ovenbird is olive-brown above and white below with dark streaks. Some call it a wood warbler. Ernie smiled at us two teachers. “Do you know its call?” it’s a loud staccato song - “teacher, teacher, teacher.”
We watched as the ovenbird oblivious to us entered its side entrance. A neat bird.
Confronaton
Nature article by Earl Plato
Watching animals this summer? What happens when one species suddenly confronts another of the same species? Do you observe how each reacts to the presence of the other? Do they act friendly, indifferent, frightened or hostile? On the family farm where we had more than ample feeders a host of a variety of bird species would eat often paying little attention to one another. But wait! Remember the pairs of Blue jays! One pair of jays would take over the feeder then a second pair would appear. “Get out of here!” Then the dominating third pair of jays would arrive and for the next ten minutes they ruled. That’s a “pecking order” and we should not interfere.
What if the animals you are observing are natural enemies? My advice is the same as Jim Arnosky, free lance writer. When you see such enemies confronting or even fighting in a natural setting, observe and don’t interfere.
Different animals react to the sight of their natural enemies differently. So. Most flee. Still some react in rage especially at nest making and raising young times. At Stevensville Conservation area I saw angry crows circling and diving at a Great horned owl resting in a tree. The noise was tremendous. I watched with my glasses as the owl perched blinking at the black birds as they tormented him. Then suddenly the owl flew east and the crows followed him. “Get out of our territory!” And it did.
Note: The Great horned owl is the crows worst enemy/
Silently it flies at night and attacks the defenseless crow in its nest and quickly wipes out the family. Horned owls are a living nightmare to the crow species. Whenever crows spy a Great horned owl in daylight they immediately call for help. They “mob” the owl and thus help each other to drive the killer away. Remember that’s part of the natural law. Just observe. ***
Joanne Stevenson called to report seeing a beaver at Point Abino. She and her friends at Bertie Boatt Club watched a huge aquatic animal swim to shore near the Buffalo Yacht Club. Size? Large and with the tell tale tail. No doubt about it.
Some years back Tim Seburn and I investigated reports of beavers in that same area. We went behind the Buffalo Yacht Club abd found tell tale signs. Several small aspes had been “beaver gnawed.” The drainage ditch was not far away. Beaver dam? I never saw one perhaps Tim did at some other time. Beavers in the Point Abino area? Yes.
Thanks Joanne. Armed with a Timmy’s I have been out a number of times looking for the elusive beaver(s). No luck yet.
Watching animals this summer? What happens when one species suddenly confronts another of the same species? Do you observe how each reacts to the presence of the other? Do they act friendly, indifferent, frightened or hostile? On the family farm where we had more than ample feeders a host of a variety of bird species would eat often paying little attention to one another. But wait! Remember the pairs of Blue jays! One pair of jays would take over the feeder then a second pair would appear. “Get out of here!” Then the dominating third pair of jays would arrive and for the next ten minutes they ruled. That’s a “pecking order” and we should not interfere.
What if the animals you are observing are natural enemies? My advice is the same as Jim Arnosky, free lance writer. When you see such enemies confronting or even fighting in a natural setting, observe and don’t interfere.
Different animals react to the sight of their natural enemies differently. So. Most flee. Still some react in rage especially at nest making and raising young times. At Stevensville Conservation area I saw angry crows circling and diving at a Great horned owl resting in a tree. The noise was tremendous. I watched with my glasses as the owl perched blinking at the black birds as they tormented him. Then suddenly the owl flew east and the crows followed him. “Get out of our territory!” And it did.
Note: The Great horned owl is the crows worst enemy/
Silently it flies at night and attacks the defenseless crow in its nest and quickly wipes out the family. Horned owls are a living nightmare to the crow species. Whenever crows spy a Great horned owl in daylight they immediately call for help. They “mob” the owl and thus help each other to drive the killer away. Remember that’s part of the natural law. Just observe. ***
Joanne Stevenson called to report seeing a beaver at Point Abino. She and her friends at Bertie Boatt Club watched a huge aquatic animal swim to shore near the Buffalo Yacht Club. Size? Large and with the tell tale tail. No doubt about it.
Some years back Tim Seburn and I investigated reports of beavers in that same area. We went behind the Buffalo Yacht Club abd found tell tale signs. Several small aspes had been “beaver gnawed.” The drainage ditch was not far away. Beaver dam? I never saw one perhaps Tim did at some other time. Beavers in the Point Abino area? Yes.
Thanks Joanne. Armed with a Timmy’s I have been out a number of times looking for the elusive beaver(s). No luck yet.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
NATURE ARTICLE - NATURE NOTES - by Earl Plato
OAK LEAVES - A NEW YEAR'S LESSON
George Foss of Sherkston and I walked the trails of the Stevensville Conservation Park in December. We passed by various oaks, red, white and two large Burr oaks. They all had one thing in common. There were varying numbers of leaves still on each of their branches. A LESSON FROM THE OAK TREE
Have you ever noticed that in late fall and winter some oak trees retain crisp, dry leaves long after maples, the elms and the walnuts have become bare skeletons? When we return to the Stevensville site in spring we will find that the strong winter winds and the early spring rains have not stripped the oak branches completely. This is what I read recently in a devotional booklet,
"As springtime progresses, something wonderful happens. Tiny little oak leaf buds start appearing at the tips of the twigs, pushing off the dried remnants of the preceding season. What the winds and rains could not do without, the forces of new life do from within."
Now you don't have to wait to spring in order to make new resolutions for 1994. We all know that at times old habits, that are not essentially good for us, cling to our lives with the same tenacity as those old oak leaves. The message is: "The best way to get rid of a bad habit is to start a good habit." The writer also says, "Rely on God and he will give you the strength to push off our old habits." That's good advice.
STEVENSVILLE CONSERVATION AREA
I had been here a few weeks before to see the Conservation Authority's new permanent display board. There's a map and some descriptions of what you'll see. George had never been to the conservation area before or walked the paths. He pointed on the map to the pickerel hatching pond and I was not sharp enough to tell him where it was. We started out. It was not the best day to do so for the sun never shone and I remind you that there were slippery spots along the trails. Black-capped chickadees greeted us and in the distance a Blue Jay hollered his recognition of us. We walked across the new bridge to Mount Stevensville ( the man made hill) and from its height looked out over the December landscape. George found some fox droppings on the hill trail. Once down the hill he asked me about one of the plants still green and growing close to the ground. Believe me, I had learned from Ernie Giles what it was but alas the old memory failed me. George identified some wild barley grass. I thought that it might be rye grass but my book on grasses failed to verify which of us was right. Looks like we will have to return again. I should have taken a sample home for study. He mentioned the pickerel pond again. I told him that the lagoon to our left was stocked with fish in May. I still hadn't caught on to where the pickerel hatchery was.
We returned and walked along the edge of the creek and crossed the bridge where the Black Creek gets one of its two main sources. This one branch had its head water from Humberstone Marsh in Port Colborne. We turned right and took the Inner Trail. This is a pleasant walk high on the bank. Below us and to our right, easily seen through the leafless trees was, the Creek Trail following the meandering of Black Creek. The two of us stirred up the debris under a large Bur Oak. Note: I apologize to the Fort Erie Conservation Club for insisting on spelling Bur with two "r's." Their sign is correct. As hard as we looked we found no acorns with the unique "bur" edges. We reached the junction of the three Trails, the Outer, Inner, and Creek. Along the way in this area someone had tied pieces of wool to the branches of trees in a haphazard fashion. Why? There is a little bench here and there once was a bird feeding station. Again chickadees flitted in the underbrush and sang their familiar song. We headed north along the outer trail. Someone had cut back the branches of encroaching evergreens. At first we thought someone had entered the Conservation area for some Christmas trees. Not.
George asked what the trees with the almost birch - like trunk colour was. I said aspen, trembling aspen. The "trembling" part was gone. I had seen these trees some weeks before when their leaves with their light under colour were plentiful and would move in the slightest breeze and give that "trembling" effect. There were three clumps of young aspens as we headed back into the evergreen growths. Now, I never admit to being lost. If we had continued and reached the inner trail we would have seen the little bridge and the way back to the car. Instead I told George we would have to backtrack. We did and reached the Creek Trail. This trail was a little slippery. The water was flowing freely. Someone had used railway ties to "shore up" the creek banks in order to slow down the erosion.
We arrived back at the little bridge and followed the hilly Cline Nature trail back to the car. Autumn olive and high bush cranberry bushes lined the creek here. A feeder station at the tree had plenty of chickadees and some slate coloured juncos.
We looked at the map on the Conservation Authority sign again and I then realized that the Pickerel Hatchery was behind the Club building. The pond was dredged and almost empty. Drain pipes from the two outer buildings led into the pond. Construction of an addition was underway.
Take some time to visit the Stevensville Conservation Authority Park. I am sure that once you enjoy the peacefulness of the setting you will return again.
THE SCHNEIDER'S HERONRY - THAT SAME DAY
I am looking at some photos I recently took of Great Blue Heron nests. I am not talking about five or ten roughly formed nests of sticks. At 11:03 a.m. on that same day of our visit to Stevensville Conservation Area we pulled into Don Schneider's old place on Bowen Road. Let me explain that the Schneiders no longer live here.
ASK PERMISSION FIRST
I asked permission to enter the wet area behind the property where the heronry was located. You can see about 18 nests from Bowen Road. Always seek permission when entering private land. A SIGHT TO BEHOLD
George walked on ahead as I fiddled with my camera and mini-tape recorder. We had to navigate bodies of water but the sight that was unfolding was amazing. I had seen perhaps 25 heron nests in the Alabama Swamp outside of Lockport, New York. George called out, "There's at least 40 here!" He was right. As we walked on we counted 20 more. I took my bird glasses and focused in on the nests. We both agreed that they were rough structures indeed and wondered how the young chicks could remain safe.
WRITER'S NOTE: Great Blue Herons have from 3-5 pale greenish-blue eggs in a nest lined with finer material on a platform of sticks.
We couldn't see this finer material in the nest but remember this was December. One tree had five nests in it. If you have had heard the hoarse, guttural squack of this giant bird you can imagine the level of noise in just this one tree if all the nests were inhabited. The question: When the herons return from the South do they use the same nest again? We hope to answer that question in Spring of 1994.
We drove down Winger Road past the Darleen Wildlife Refuge of the Schneiders. Hundreds of Canada Geese surrounded their pond. We looked to our right, eastwards, into the woods and spotted a few more heron nests. We estimated that in all there were over 60 nests. Amazing, and here in Greater Fort Erie.
Remember nature is at your doorstep anytime of year. Best wishes for the New Year and take some time to enjoy the outdoors in '08.
OAK LEAVES - A NEW YEAR'S LESSON
George Foss of Sherkston and I walked the trails of the Stevensville Conservation Park in December. We passed by various oaks, red, white and two large Burr oaks. They all had one thing in common. There were varying numbers of leaves still on each of their branches. A LESSON FROM THE OAK TREE
Have you ever noticed that in late fall and winter some oak trees retain crisp, dry leaves long after maples, the elms and the walnuts have become bare skeletons? When we return to the Stevensville site in spring we will find that the strong winter winds and the early spring rains have not stripped the oak branches completely. This is what I read recently in a devotional booklet,
"As springtime progresses, something wonderful happens. Tiny little oak leaf buds start appearing at the tips of the twigs, pushing off the dried remnants of the preceding season. What the winds and rains could not do without, the forces of new life do from within."
Now you don't have to wait to spring in order to make new resolutions for 1994. We all know that at times old habits, that are not essentially good for us, cling to our lives with the same tenacity as those old oak leaves. The message is: "The best way to get rid of a bad habit is to start a good habit." The writer also says, "Rely on God and he will give you the strength to push off our old habits." That's good advice.
STEVENSVILLE CONSERVATION AREA
I had been here a few weeks before to see the Conservation Authority's new permanent display board. There's a map and some descriptions of what you'll see. George had never been to the conservation area before or walked the paths. He pointed on the map to the pickerel hatching pond and I was not sharp enough to tell him where it was. We started out. It was not the best day to do so for the sun never shone and I remind you that there were slippery spots along the trails. Black-capped chickadees greeted us and in the distance a Blue Jay hollered his recognition of us. We walked across the new bridge to Mount Stevensville ( the man made hill) and from its height looked out over the December landscape. George found some fox droppings on the hill trail. Once down the hill he asked me about one of the plants still green and growing close to the ground. Believe me, I had learned from Ernie Giles what it was but alas the old memory failed me. George identified some wild barley grass. I thought that it might be rye grass but my book on grasses failed to verify which of us was right. Looks like we will have to return again. I should have taken a sample home for study. He mentioned the pickerel pond again. I told him that the lagoon to our left was stocked with fish in May. I still hadn't caught on to where the pickerel hatchery was.
We returned and walked along the edge of the creek and crossed the bridge where the Black Creek gets one of its two main sources. This one branch had its head water from Humberstone Marsh in Port Colborne. We turned right and took the Inner Trail. This is a pleasant walk high on the bank. Below us and to our right, easily seen through the leafless trees was, the Creek Trail following the meandering of Black Creek. The two of us stirred up the debris under a large Bur Oak. Note: I apologize to the Fort Erie Conservation Club for insisting on spelling Bur with two "r's." Their sign is correct. As hard as we looked we found no acorns with the unique "bur" edges. We reached the junction of the three Trails, the Outer, Inner, and Creek. Along the way in this area someone had tied pieces of wool to the branches of trees in a haphazard fashion. Why? There is a little bench here and there once was a bird feeding station. Again chickadees flitted in the underbrush and sang their familiar song. We headed north along the outer trail. Someone had cut back the branches of encroaching evergreens. At first we thought someone had entered the Conservation area for some Christmas trees. Not.
George asked what the trees with the almost birch - like trunk colour was. I said aspen, trembling aspen. The "trembling" part was gone. I had seen these trees some weeks before when their leaves with their light under colour were plentiful and would move in the slightest breeze and give that "trembling" effect. There were three clumps of young aspens as we headed back into the evergreen growths. Now, I never admit to being lost. If we had continued and reached the inner trail we would have seen the little bridge and the way back to the car. Instead I told George we would have to backtrack. We did and reached the Creek Trail. This trail was a little slippery. The water was flowing freely. Someone had used railway ties to "shore up" the creek banks in order to slow down the erosion.
We arrived back at the little bridge and followed the hilly Cline Nature trail back to the car. Autumn olive and high bush cranberry bushes lined the creek here. A feeder station at the tree had plenty of chickadees and some slate coloured juncos.
We looked at the map on the Conservation Authority sign again and I then realized that the Pickerel Hatchery was behind the Club building. The pond was dredged and almost empty. Drain pipes from the two outer buildings led into the pond. Construction of an addition was underway.
Take some time to visit the Stevensville Conservation Authority Park. I am sure that once you enjoy the peacefulness of the setting you will return again.
THE SCHNEIDER'S HERONRY - THAT SAME DAY
I am looking at some photos I recently took of Great Blue Heron nests. I am not talking about five or ten roughly formed nests of sticks. At 11:03 a.m. on that same day of our visit to Stevensville Conservation Area we pulled into Don Schneider's old place on Bowen Road. Let me explain that the Schneiders no longer live here.
ASK PERMISSION FIRST
I asked permission to enter the wet area behind the property where the heronry was located. You can see about 18 nests from Bowen Road. Always seek permission when entering private land. A SIGHT TO BEHOLD
George walked on ahead as I fiddled with my camera and mini-tape recorder. We had to navigate bodies of water but the sight that was unfolding was amazing. I had seen perhaps 25 heron nests in the Alabama Swamp outside of Lockport, New York. George called out, "There's at least 40 here!" He was right. As we walked on we counted 20 more. I took my bird glasses and focused in on the nests. We both agreed that they were rough structures indeed and wondered how the young chicks could remain safe.
WRITER'S NOTE: Great Blue Herons have from 3-5 pale greenish-blue eggs in a nest lined with finer material on a platform of sticks.
We couldn't see this finer material in the nest but remember this was December. One tree had five nests in it. If you have had heard the hoarse, guttural squack of this giant bird you can imagine the level of noise in just this one tree if all the nests were inhabited. The question: When the herons return from the South do they use the same nest again? We hope to answer that question in Spring of 1994.
We drove down Winger Road past the Darleen Wildlife Refuge of the Schneiders. Hundreds of Canada Geese surrounded their pond. We looked to our right, eastwards, into the woods and spotted a few more heron nests. We estimated that in all there were over 60 nests. Amazing, and here in Greater Fort Erie.
Remember nature is at your doorstep anytime of year. Best wishes for the New Year and take some time to enjoy the outdoors in '08.
Bobolinks and Bertie
Bobolinks in Old Bertie by Earl Plato
I grew up with meadowlarks and bobolinks. The time was
WW2 and the fields to the west of our Bertie Township home were ideal for those two birds. No DDT then.
Here in 2008 daughter Allison and I saw bobolinks on the edge of Marcy Woods. Allison asked, “What are those birds with the white rumps? I looked at the birds which were black with white rumps. Bobolinks. That’s right in the fields on the Marcy farm Rob Eberly and I had seen bobolinks in previous years. This is the bird that winters in Argentina, South America! Here in late May he flies our fields again. I say that his flight is like goldfinches - an undulating graceful flight. Listen as they fly by. It is a series of joyful, bubbling, tumbling, gurgling sounds with each note I am told on a different pitch.
As a youth I uncovered a bobolink nest in our field. There were five spotted with red-brown and purple. They were well nestled in a cup of grass, stems, and small rootlets. It was not as well constructed as its neighbour the meadowlark. Migration? Apparently they flock together in large numbers for the migration flight south. In southern United States they are called “Rice birds”. That makes sense. They have to fuel up for they still have a ways to go. Like fir the white rump.
I grew up with meadowlarks and bobolinks. The time was
WW2 and the fields to the west of our Bertie Township home were ideal for those two birds. No DDT then.
Here in 2008 daughter Allison and I saw bobolinks on the edge of Marcy Woods. Allison asked, “What are those birds with the white rumps? I looked at the birds which were black with white rumps. Bobolinks. That’s right in the fields on the Marcy farm Rob Eberly and I had seen bobolinks in previous years. This is the bird that winters in Argentina, South America! Here in late May he flies our fields again. I say that his flight is like goldfinches - an undulating graceful flight. Listen as they fly by. It is a series of joyful, bubbling, tumbling, gurgling sounds with each note I am told on a different pitch.
As a youth I uncovered a bobolink nest in our field. There were five spotted with red-brown and purple. They were well nestled in a cup of grass, stems, and small rootlets. It was not as well constructed as its neighbour the meadowlark. Migration? Apparently they flock together in large numbers for the migration flight south. In southern United States they are called “Rice birds”. That makes sense. They have to fuel up for they still have a ways to go. Like fir the white rump.
Monday, June 2, 2008
I remember the Meadowlark
The Meadowlark of Years Past by Earl Plato
I remember it well. Just a young lad at our Garrison Road home
My cat “Whitey” had brought back a dead bird and laid it near our chicken house. Thanks to the late naturalist Bert Miller I recognized the beautiful bird. It was a meadowlark. In the open fields to the west of us we had many meadowlarks and bobolinks.
You could hear the meadowlarks clear, mellow whistle - see-ya, see-your.
As we walked those fields we would hear a loud rattling warning note. Soon a meadowlark would rise up. I learned that the local farmer who cut the fields that had lots of clover destroyed many nests by mowing. We were told unless it was too late in the season they might nest again. Come fall migration time our meadowlarks would ban together in groups of around ten, Remember the bird’s breast, bright yellow crossed by a black “V”. See any lately? I did.
I remember it well. Just a young lad at our Garrison Road home
My cat “Whitey” had brought back a dead bird and laid it near our chicken house. Thanks to the late naturalist Bert Miller I recognized the beautiful bird. It was a meadowlark. In the open fields to the west of us we had many meadowlarks and bobolinks.
You could hear the meadowlarks clear, mellow whistle - see-ya, see-your.
As we walked those fields we would hear a loud rattling warning note. Soon a meadowlark would rise up. I learned that the local farmer who cut the fields that had lots of clover destroyed many nests by mowing. We were told unless it was too late in the season they might nest again. Come fall migration time our meadowlarks would ban together in groups of around ten, Remember the bird’s breast, bright yellow crossed by a black “V”. See any lately? I did.
Mud Turtles
Six Mile Creek and Mud Turtles. By Earl Plato
We parked our car on Centralia Avenue and walked the Friendship Trail to the bridge on Six Mile Creek. I do this once a week or so. My goal to listen to bird songs and to see basking mud turtles. This bright sunny morning June 2nd, 2008 no turtles. Often we would see a pair resting on a floating board. From late April to October our turtles thrive along this creek. So stop and take a look.
In other re creeks and ponds dry up. That’s when our mud turtles may move overland. I have seen dead and injured mud turtles on Erie Road over the years. I have encountered angry Snapping turtles. No fooling with hem/ The Audubon guide reads as follows: Mud turtles are mild-tempered, while others are feisty and do not hesitate to bite. So enjoy our Mud Turtles up close. Underside yellow to brown as I recall.
We parked our car on Centralia Avenue and walked the Friendship Trail to the bridge on Six Mile Creek. I do this once a week or so. My goal to listen to bird songs and to see basking mud turtles. This bright sunny morning June 2nd, 2008 no turtles. Often we would see a pair resting on a floating board. From late April to October our turtles thrive along this creek. So stop and take a look.
In other re creeks and ponds dry up. That’s when our mud turtles may move overland. I have seen dead and injured mud turtles on Erie Road over the years. I have encountered angry Snapping turtles. No fooling with hem/ The Audubon guide reads as follows: Mud turtles are mild-tempered, while others are feisty and do not hesitate to bite. So enjoy our Mud Turtles up close. Underside yellow to brown as I recall.
Bluebird Country
Bluebird Country by Earl Plato
Where do I go to see one of my favourite birds, the
Eastern bluebird? I could dive to Beaver Meadows south of Buffalo, N.Y. I could go west to Wainfleet near the lake where I have seen as many as ten at a time. Look at Wendy Booth’s photo below. When Elaine and I go to church in Sherkston we sometime drive to he Beach cemetery. Elaine’s relatives are buried there. Someday we will be too. Near the end of the drive going in is a bluebird box erected by Rob Eberly of Ridgeway. There often perched on a fence post this past spring were a pair of bluebirds. This is the nearest and best place to see these birds. What’s your favourite location?
Ever hear a bluebird call when flying? As they flit around the Beach cemetery grounds e hear a liquid and musical “queedle” sound. Those who have heard it know what I mean. It is an unmistakable bluebird signature.
Audubon guide says, “ Its song is a soft melodious warble.”
Where do I go to see one of my favourite birds, the
Eastern bluebird? I could dive to Beaver Meadows south of Buffalo, N.Y. I could go west to Wainfleet near the lake where I have seen as many as ten at a time. Look at Wendy Booth’s photo below. When Elaine and I go to church in Sherkston we sometime drive to he Beach cemetery. Elaine’s relatives are buried there. Someday we will be too. Near the end of the drive going in is a bluebird box erected by Rob Eberly of Ridgeway. There often perched on a fence post this past spring were a pair of bluebirds. This is the nearest and best place to see these birds. What’s your favourite location?
Ever hear a bluebird call when flying? As they flit around the Beach cemetery grounds e hear a liquid and musical “queedle” sound. Those who have heard it know what I mean. It is an unmistakable bluebird signature.
Audubon guide says, “ Its song is a soft melodious warble.”
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Wainfleet. Ontario
nn3802 Earl Plato
Wainfleet, close and yet so far. The four of us put the boat in at Dunnville’s public dock about six p.m. this past August evening. John moved his good-sized craft easily down the runway and into the calm waters of the Grand River. This was to be a sight and fishing expedition of a few hours.
It had taken us about twenty minutes from the O’ Brien’s of Wainfleet located on the Welland River to reach Dunnville and our launching place, Close and not so far.
The Grand, that great river from the northwest, was our waterway to Cayuga. Yes, we had been on the river in past years but not for some trolling. This night we counted but three fishermen in their little boats. John has a depth measuring device, “14 feet here - a good place for pickerel. we’ll fish here on the way back.” he commented.
I had my camera and took plenty of shots. Remember the time - growing shadows and some good reflections. Weeping and river willows - plenty of them. We passed the trailer site. Plenty of trailers and docks but few people. Think! It’s dinner time, eh.
We eventually approached the bridge at the town of Cayuga. Time to head back downstream. John set up out trolling poles. He told me that he had given me a good lure. Diane took over the wheel and we trolled.
A hit! A fair-sized hit for john. A two foot gray-coloured fish came to the surface. “The net!” What a strange fish. Unlike anything I had ever seen. Elaine snapped some shots. John weighed the creature - two and a half pounds. This fish had a rounded tail like an ancient coelacanth. It had a large head and a mouth equipped with strong sharp teeth. It’s back was covered with a series of small fins. No keeper this! Back into the water but we had some photos. You regular fishermen know the species- the Bowfin.
It was growing dark when we arrived back at the Dunnville dock. It was a great trip on a great river. To be exact a Grand river.
***
I didn’t intend to lie but the response from cat lovers made me add another cat myth tale.
Cat lovers there are in Niagara. No doubt about it. One old friend questioned the existence of ‘Whitey’. Brother, Ed, confirmed to him that my pet cat did live. I have only fond memories of that favourite feline. Yes, my mother had no great love for cats but she never discouraged us from having them as pets as long as they stayed outside. She was always faithful in feeding them when we forgot our duties.
From the Buffalo News “Debunking some old cat tales.” Cats are a danger to babies. With two pregnant daughters should we be afraid?
Only one daughter has a pet house cat - a beautiful black and white feline named Daytona. She is truly a house cat. Here’s what Gina Spadafori of the News wrote. “Cats do not maliciously smother or suck the breath out of babies, as the myths hold. That doesn’t mean some considerations aren’t in order, however. Pregnant women have to take special precautions when cleaning the litter box - or have someone else do it - because of the risk of disease. Yes, even animal advocates remind new parents that common sense dictates no animal be left unattended with a small child - for the protection of both.”
Wainfleet, close and yet so far. The four of us put the boat in at Dunnville’s public dock about six p.m. this past August evening. John moved his good-sized craft easily down the runway and into the calm waters of the Grand River. This was to be a sight and fishing expedition of a few hours.
It had taken us about twenty minutes from the O’ Brien’s of Wainfleet located on the Welland River to reach Dunnville and our launching place, Close and not so far.
The Grand, that great river from the northwest, was our waterway to Cayuga. Yes, we had been on the river in past years but not for some trolling. This night we counted but three fishermen in their little boats. John has a depth measuring device, “14 feet here - a good place for pickerel. we’ll fish here on the way back.” he commented.
I had my camera and took plenty of shots. Remember the time - growing shadows and some good reflections. Weeping and river willows - plenty of them. We passed the trailer site. Plenty of trailers and docks but few people. Think! It’s dinner time, eh.
We eventually approached the bridge at the town of Cayuga. Time to head back downstream. John set up out trolling poles. He told me that he had given me a good lure. Diane took over the wheel and we trolled.
A hit! A fair-sized hit for john. A two foot gray-coloured fish came to the surface. “The net!” What a strange fish. Unlike anything I had ever seen. Elaine snapped some shots. John weighed the creature - two and a half pounds. This fish had a rounded tail like an ancient coelacanth. It had a large head and a mouth equipped with strong sharp teeth. It’s back was covered with a series of small fins. No keeper this! Back into the water but we had some photos. You regular fishermen know the species- the Bowfin.
It was growing dark when we arrived back at the Dunnville dock. It was a great trip on a great river. To be exact a Grand river.
***
I didn’t intend to lie but the response from cat lovers made me add another cat myth tale.
Cat lovers there are in Niagara. No doubt about it. One old friend questioned the existence of ‘Whitey’. Brother, Ed, confirmed to him that my pet cat did live. I have only fond memories of that favourite feline. Yes, my mother had no great love for cats but she never discouraged us from having them as pets as long as they stayed outside. She was always faithful in feeding them when we forgot our duties.
From the Buffalo News “Debunking some old cat tales.” Cats are a danger to babies. With two pregnant daughters should we be afraid?
Only one daughter has a pet house cat - a beautiful black and white feline named Daytona. She is truly a house cat. Here’s what Gina Spadafori of the News wrote. “Cats do not maliciously smother or suck the breath out of babies, as the myths hold. That doesn’t mean some considerations aren’t in order, however. Pregnant women have to take special precautions when cleaning the litter box - or have someone else do it - because of the risk of disease. Yes, even animal advocates remind new parents that common sense dictates no animal be left unattended with a small child - for the protection of both.”
Rondeau
Rondeau Park Ontario Earl Plato
Take a little walk with me? I am often a repeat visitor to certain places in nature. I mainly like to return to settings I have enjoyed in previous walks. I have numerous albums with photos to refresh memories. This memory walk was realized this summer when Elaine and I returned to Rondeau Park on the shores of Lake Erie. This time we did not have our deceased little Sheltie with us. No staying for a few days as before. This was an afternoon stroll. on he Tulip Tree Trail. It was a perfect August summer day at Rondeau. If you have been there no need to read on further. This is my attempt to lure Niagara readers to his great sand spit.
Rondeau lies at the meeting place of two lake water currents. Look at your map and you can asceratin that one is from the east - the other from the west. As these two currents meet they slow down and drop the sand and gravel in parallel sandbars off Rondeau’s shore. Eventually a sandspit was formed.
The Rondeau spit grew over thousands of years and the sand bars once off shore now here in 2001 are found in a series of ridges along Tulip Tree Trail. That’s right we were walking on the old lake bed.
***
“What are you doing Earl? “What are you doing George?” Tuesday, October 9th Rob Eberly called me and George Sherk and asked the above question.
No problem, we two old timers were ready to go.
Noontime we headed northwest from Ridgeway. We three are bird watchers and we kept our eyes open. First destination- Rob is a tree lover. He laments when apparently healthy trees are cut down. As we approached our nature site I could see the towering branches of the giant maple, The Comfort maple is believed to be Canada’s largest Sugar maple (Acer sacharum). Believe it. All three of us had been here before. Rob and I tried to capture the full dimensions of the Comfort maple. Step back. Step back. You know the story. Where was my wide-angle lens? We took snaps from different angles. Like trees? Visit the Comfort maple and thank those who have preserved rhis great tree.
We headed formtheVineland Experimental Station but first made a detour into the McKeever Owl Foundation Centre. This is a private setting on the west bank of Twenty Mile Creek. Rob spotted a Snowy Owl in one of the structures as we drove out.
Next stop. Into theVineland station. Purpose to see Rhododendrons and Azaleas and their seed pods. This Rob acomplished. This place is worth the visit during the flowering season. Remember to walk the tunnel to where the magnificent Rhododendrons will be blooming. No charge and plenty of parking.
Jordan Harbour and Jordan Station not far away. Let’s see if the salmon are running. We walked down o the water;s edge. We found one lone fisherman casting his line. I asked if he had seen any of the large fish. “Five or six.” He said in two weeks they should be heading up the Twenty-Mile Creek in force.
Final stop. This is Paw paw time. These trees develop fruit the size of a large plum. On this side road near the Queenston Golf course Rob retrieved a half dozen of the fruit of the Paw paw tree. Ever smell the fruit? It has a custard-like odour at least in my description.
Thanks to Rob we accomplished this Niagara Peninsula outdoor survey on a sunny afternoon.
Take a little walk with me? I am often a repeat visitor to certain places in nature. I mainly like to return to settings I have enjoyed in previous walks. I have numerous albums with photos to refresh memories. This memory walk was realized this summer when Elaine and I returned to Rondeau Park on the shores of Lake Erie. This time we did not have our deceased little Sheltie with us. No staying for a few days as before. This was an afternoon stroll. on he Tulip Tree Trail. It was a perfect August summer day at Rondeau. If you have been there no need to read on further. This is my attempt to lure Niagara readers to his great sand spit.
Rondeau lies at the meeting place of two lake water currents. Look at your map and you can asceratin that one is from the east - the other from the west. As these two currents meet they slow down and drop the sand and gravel in parallel sandbars off Rondeau’s shore. Eventually a sandspit was formed.
The Rondeau spit grew over thousands of years and the sand bars once off shore now here in 2001 are found in a series of ridges along Tulip Tree Trail. That’s right we were walking on the old lake bed.
***
“What are you doing Earl? “What are you doing George?” Tuesday, October 9th Rob Eberly called me and George Sherk and asked the above question.
No problem, we two old timers were ready to go.
Noontime we headed northwest from Ridgeway. We three are bird watchers and we kept our eyes open. First destination- Rob is a tree lover. He laments when apparently healthy trees are cut down. As we approached our nature site I could see the towering branches of the giant maple, The Comfort maple is believed to be Canada’s largest Sugar maple (Acer sacharum). Believe it. All three of us had been here before. Rob and I tried to capture the full dimensions of the Comfort maple. Step back. Step back. You know the story. Where was my wide-angle lens? We took snaps from different angles. Like trees? Visit the Comfort maple and thank those who have preserved rhis great tree.
We headed formtheVineland Experimental Station but first made a detour into the McKeever Owl Foundation Centre. This is a private setting on the west bank of Twenty Mile Creek. Rob spotted a Snowy Owl in one of the structures as we drove out.
Next stop. Into theVineland station. Purpose to see Rhododendrons and Azaleas and their seed pods. This Rob acomplished. This place is worth the visit during the flowering season. Remember to walk the tunnel to where the magnificent Rhododendrons will be blooming. No charge and plenty of parking.
Jordan Harbour and Jordan Station not far away. Let’s see if the salmon are running. We walked down o the water;s edge. We found one lone fisherman casting his line. I asked if he had seen any of the large fish. “Five or six.” He said in two weeks they should be heading up the Twenty-Mile Creek in force.
Final stop. This is Paw paw time. These trees develop fruit the size of a large plum. On this side road near the Queenston Golf course Rob retrieved a half dozen of the fruit of the Paw paw tree. Ever smell the fruit? It has a custard-like odour at least in my description.
Thanks to Rob we accomplished this Niagara Peninsula outdoor survey on a sunny afternoon.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Gone South
.
Gone South Earl Plato
To my traveling readers I often wonder what you see in nature when you head south or points west. Our neigbours, the Marchands, and others I know had headed again for Florida this past winter. I am always on the lookout for nature stories. This is my tenth year with the Review and I am still interested in writing about the great outdoors. Readers know that I am not a learned scientist but just a person who likes most aspects of nature. Following is an interesting nature scenario.
John Plyley of Stevensville had provided me with a series of unusual bird photos from his winter residence in Florida. I finally visited John at Ridgewood Manor the end of May where he is the seniors’ administrator. Armed with John’s photos we sat down to discuss the photos. Of course there was the anhinga, the “snake” bird. It had caught a large catfish. Normally these birds with the long serpentine-like neck throw the catch into the air and swallow it head first. Not this time. John snapped the poor anhinga trying to swallow the large fish on the grass in his front yard.
So what happened? The next photos show a large hawk take over. “Big buddy” moved in and the anhinga with his webbed feet were no match for this hawk. Armed with talons and a fierce beak he started eating the catfish. Thank you Mr. anhinga.
When John first gave me the photos when he returned from Florida I tried to decide what hawk species it was. I had one time thought that the bird was a Mississippi Kite. C’mon Plato! They are essentially insect eaters and on the fly too as they gobble down cicadas and other flying insects. My Audubon research book says that they occasionally eat lizards. This prey was a huge catfish. Rule out the kite.
I had forgotten my magnifying glass. That would have helped.
“It looks like a Red-tailed hawk.” I said. “Can’t be, they eat voles and mice in our area. Red-shouldered? Not in this area of Florida. With my Peterson Book I looked up the ranges of hawks. Guess what? Red-tails are in Florida all year around!
John said, “Earl, I’ll have the photo blown up.” He did and dropped the photo off. The term “morph” means different colours of the same species. Here was a light coloured Red-tail with a flecked breast. Then I went back to my huge Audubon Reference book. Listen to this. On page 484 in the Hawk section we read this about Red-tails. : “Feeding habits...Carp and catfishes caught at the edge of water.”
Now the list of what they catch and eat is a long list. Pardon me. If you have a friendly “buddy” like an anhinga you don’t have to catch you just have to eat.
Thanks John Plyley for the interesting photos.
***
I first visited Marcy’s Woods with the late naturalist, Bert Miller, as a ten year old. Years passed and back in the ‘80’s I again made regular visits to this Carolinian gem. I guess that I have made hundreds of trips to the woods. Today I take a Grade Three Class from Ridgeway Public. My brother, Ed, asked me about my last acle and the falling limb scenario. C’mon Plato did you actually have a branch fall down near you just off the trail? As I walk the Lower Trail I see places where trees and branches have fallen probably by the force from fierce winds. One Blue Beech, a large specimen, has been uprooted. Some large trees that have fallen over the trail have had to be cut and pulled off the path. Broken branches hang in various places on the sand ridges. Potential danger. Yes.
Come with me for a walk and I’ll show you some of these natural incidents. In fact I’ll show you the branch that just missed me!
Gone South Earl Plato
To my traveling readers I often wonder what you see in nature when you head south or points west. Our neigbours, the Marchands, and others I know had headed again for Florida this past winter. I am always on the lookout for nature stories. This is my tenth year with the Review and I am still interested in writing about the great outdoors. Readers know that I am not a learned scientist but just a person who likes most aspects of nature. Following is an interesting nature scenario.
John Plyley of Stevensville had provided me with a series of unusual bird photos from his winter residence in Florida. I finally visited John at Ridgewood Manor the end of May where he is the seniors’ administrator. Armed with John’s photos we sat down to discuss the photos. Of course there was the anhinga, the “snake” bird. It had caught a large catfish. Normally these birds with the long serpentine-like neck throw the catch into the air and swallow it head first. Not this time. John snapped the poor anhinga trying to swallow the large fish on the grass in his front yard.
So what happened? The next photos show a large hawk take over. “Big buddy” moved in and the anhinga with his webbed feet were no match for this hawk. Armed with talons and a fierce beak he started eating the catfish. Thank you Mr. anhinga.
When John first gave me the photos when he returned from Florida I tried to decide what hawk species it was. I had one time thought that the bird was a Mississippi Kite. C’mon Plato! They are essentially insect eaters and on the fly too as they gobble down cicadas and other flying insects. My Audubon research book says that they occasionally eat lizards. This prey was a huge catfish. Rule out the kite.
I had forgotten my magnifying glass. That would have helped.
“It looks like a Red-tailed hawk.” I said. “Can’t be, they eat voles and mice in our area. Red-shouldered? Not in this area of Florida. With my Peterson Book I looked up the ranges of hawks. Guess what? Red-tails are in Florida all year around!
John said, “Earl, I’ll have the photo blown up.” He did and dropped the photo off. The term “morph” means different colours of the same species. Here was a light coloured Red-tail with a flecked breast. Then I went back to my huge Audubon Reference book. Listen to this. On page 484 in the Hawk section we read this about Red-tails. : “Feeding habits...Carp and catfishes caught at the edge of water.”
Now the list of what they catch and eat is a long list. Pardon me. If you have a friendly “buddy” like an anhinga you don’t have to catch you just have to eat.
Thanks John Plyley for the interesting photos.
***
I first visited Marcy’s Woods with the late naturalist, Bert Miller, as a ten year old. Years passed and back in the ‘80’s I again made regular visits to this Carolinian gem. I guess that I have made hundreds of trips to the woods. Today I take a Grade Three Class from Ridgeway Public. My brother, Ed, asked me about my last acle and the falling limb scenario. C’mon Plato did you actually have a branch fall down near you just off the trail? As I walk the Lower Trail I see places where trees and branches have fallen probably by the force from fierce winds. One Blue Beech, a large specimen, has been uprooted. Some large trees that have fallen over the trail have had to be cut and pulled off the path. Broken branches hang in various places on the sand ridges. Potential danger. Yes.
Come with me for a walk and I’ll show you some of these natural incidents. In fact I’ll show you the branch that just missed me!
Friday, May 30, 2008
old times
nature article Earl Plato
Yes, I admit that I am an old story teller. This past Saturday I helped to lead some members of the Niagara Frontier Botanical Society from New York State courtesy of our Bert Miller Nature Club in a walk through Marcy’s Woods. I had asked club director, Dr. Rick Stockton, to help me. Thanks Rick. The weather was perfect and only a few mosquitoes. I am an amateur naturalist so why am I leading? It was a privilege for I always learn something new. These people were very knowledgeable and if you know anything about botanists they are a delight to hear as they try to determine a special species. It was a slow deliberate walk with them and they had asked me to at least show the way along the Upper Trail first and then back along the Lower Trail. At one stop I took the time to tell one of my stories. Those who know me have heard it over the years.
My first car was a blue elderly Dodge sedan and one weekend Tom Behring and I headed out in it to Letchworth State Park. We were both old Boy Scouts and reasonably prepared for a good weekend. Tom was a good swimmer and with goggles and fins did portions of the Genesee River. I prepared something to eat. From an old Coleman Cooler I extracted some good Canadian bacon and in one of my mother’s old cast iron frying pan I fried some bacon. No, I didn’t soak some of the bacon juice with my bread as some of my relatives do. Tom arrived from his swim and appreciated my efforts. Later he made the comment, “Earl, there’s some scouring rush.” I took the greasy frying pan to the growth of scouring rushes and pulled some of these rushes. On the end of each stem was a mound of fine flour-like sandy dust. I recall scrubbing the pan and in a short time I had cleaned the pan and rinsed it in the shallow water of the fast flowing river Our late scoutmaster Ed Hayton had shown us the effective scouring power of Horsetails (Scouring Rush). Every time I lead a group in Marcy’s I tell that same story if I remember. It is a pleasant memory.
Books on the life of Ontario’s pioneers including “Roughing It In The Bush” by Susanah Moodie. refer to the “scouring rushes” were used to clean dirty dishes and particularly intransigent cooking pots.
These plants are members of the unique genus Equisetum hyemale. Its tough greenish stems possesses almost invisible rows of projecting silicon crystal - thus the name scouring rush. If you come with me I’ll demonstrate the cutting power of these crystals by rubbing a stem of this species gently against the flat of your fingernail and I may even tell you my old story.
Our botanists from Buffalo discussed how these plants reproduce. Too technical for me. A characteristic peculiar to these horsetails is their jointed “bamboo-like” stems. I usually, with a little effort, pull a section apart. We used to use a piece of stiff wire to open a section and you then would have a straw that lasted for quite sometime.
Later on in the season a fringe grows out from each stem section. Is this where the name “Horsetails” comes from? Marcy’s Woods has the greatest stand of these unique plants that I know of in the area. Bert Miller took me there as a lad over fifty years ago. Heaven forbid that developers move in and destroy Fort Erie’s natural heritage there. The gracious late Dr. George Marcy intended it for a Nature Reserve forever. Besides I want to keep telling my old story.
Yes, I admit that I am an old story teller. This past Saturday I helped to lead some members of the Niagara Frontier Botanical Society from New York State courtesy of our Bert Miller Nature Club in a walk through Marcy’s Woods. I had asked club director, Dr. Rick Stockton, to help me. Thanks Rick. The weather was perfect and only a few mosquitoes. I am an amateur naturalist so why am I leading? It was a privilege for I always learn something new. These people were very knowledgeable and if you know anything about botanists they are a delight to hear as they try to determine a special species. It was a slow deliberate walk with them and they had asked me to at least show the way along the Upper Trail first and then back along the Lower Trail. At one stop I took the time to tell one of my stories. Those who know me have heard it over the years.
My first car was a blue elderly Dodge sedan and one weekend Tom Behring and I headed out in it to Letchworth State Park. We were both old Boy Scouts and reasonably prepared for a good weekend. Tom was a good swimmer and with goggles and fins did portions of the Genesee River. I prepared something to eat. From an old Coleman Cooler I extracted some good Canadian bacon and in one of my mother’s old cast iron frying pan I fried some bacon. No, I didn’t soak some of the bacon juice with my bread as some of my relatives do. Tom arrived from his swim and appreciated my efforts. Later he made the comment, “Earl, there’s some scouring rush.” I took the greasy frying pan to the growth of scouring rushes and pulled some of these rushes. On the end of each stem was a mound of fine flour-like sandy dust. I recall scrubbing the pan and in a short time I had cleaned the pan and rinsed it in the shallow water of the fast flowing river Our late scoutmaster Ed Hayton had shown us the effective scouring power of Horsetails (Scouring Rush). Every time I lead a group in Marcy’s I tell that same story if I remember. It is a pleasant memory.
Books on the life of Ontario’s pioneers including “Roughing It In The Bush” by Susanah Moodie. refer to the “scouring rushes” were used to clean dirty dishes and particularly intransigent cooking pots.
These plants are members of the unique genus Equisetum hyemale. Its tough greenish stems possesses almost invisible rows of projecting silicon crystal - thus the name scouring rush. If you come with me I’ll demonstrate the cutting power of these crystals by rubbing a stem of this species gently against the flat of your fingernail and I may even tell you my old story.
Our botanists from Buffalo discussed how these plants reproduce. Too technical for me. A characteristic peculiar to these horsetails is their jointed “bamboo-like” stems. I usually, with a little effort, pull a section apart. We used to use a piece of stiff wire to open a section and you then would have a straw that lasted for quite sometime.
Later on in the season a fringe grows out from each stem section. Is this where the name “Horsetails” comes from? Marcy’s Woods has the greatest stand of these unique plants that I know of in the area. Bert Miller took me there as a lad over fifty years ago. Heaven forbid that developers move in and destroy Fort Erie’s natural heritage there. The gracious late Dr. George Marcy intended it for a Nature Reserve forever. Besides I want to keep telling my old story.
Chukar?
nature article Earl Plato
What a beautiful bird. Ross and Gary Bearss called. They had found this bird. What was it? Earl would know. Not. I made some wild guesses but none seemed to fit. Gary brought the bird in a cage to me. It was quiet and seemed undisturbed. Gary took it in his hand so I could snap it. No problem.
I went to all my bird books and my Peterson computer Multimedia Guide. No luck but found out later it was there. Let me describe it.
Pigeon-size, it was a soft gray-brown colour. What I saw was a clean-cut black necklace. I said, “ Plover family?”. Ross pointed out, “But it has a red beak and red legs!” Its side were boldly barred with black rows. Wow! Gary spread out its rufous coloured tail. Its throat was lightly coloured. Truly a beautiful bird. It remained calm.
The Bearss left and I spent more time researching. No luck. Ross called later. It was a Chukar quail. It was an Asian species. Like our Chinese pheasant it was introduced as a game bird. But where? The Peterson Guide map show its range is in the American West and our British Columbia. How did the Chukar get here? Alberta Clipper? One thing I found out. It eats Russian olives and Ross Bearss has these trees at his Ridge home.
What a beautiful bird. Ross and Gary Bearss called. They had found this bird. What was it? Earl would know. Not. I made some wild guesses but none seemed to fit. Gary brought the bird in a cage to me. It was quiet and seemed undisturbed. Gary took it in his hand so I could snap it. No problem.
I went to all my bird books and my Peterson computer Multimedia Guide. No luck but found out later it was there. Let me describe it.
Pigeon-size, it was a soft gray-brown colour. What I saw was a clean-cut black necklace. I said, “ Plover family?”. Ross pointed out, “But it has a red beak and red legs!” Its side were boldly barred with black rows. Wow! Gary spread out its rufous coloured tail. Its throat was lightly coloured. Truly a beautiful bird. It remained calm.
The Bearss left and I spent more time researching. No luck. Ross called later. It was a Chukar quail. It was an Asian species. Like our Chinese pheasant it was introduced as a game bird. But where? The Peterson Guide map show its range is in the American West and our British Columbia. How did the Chukar get here? Alberta Clipper? One thing I found out. It eats Russian olives and Ross Bearss has these trees at his Ridge home.
Nature Calls
Feed the Birds Earl Plato
I heard the rumbles. Feed English sparrows and starlings while our song birds go hungry! My brother, Ed , said a fellow church member of his remarked, “Tell that writer brother of yours that when the bluebirds return I’ll ship up all the sparrows and starlings he wants!” Plato, not much support for my feeding all the birds regardless of size, colour or denomination.
Defence. Remember where I was in the 1980’s. On the farm with lots of feed for all. Remember that if I didn’t feed the sparrows and starlings, where would they end up? - at your feeders in Ridgeway maybe even in Fort Erie!
***
Gone from South Kaobel Road is the old oak tree that once harboured Red-tails and countless Turkey vultures. It stood there for years all alone and now it’s gone. Question. Was it once the custom on farms in the area to plant a sapling in the year in which a family baby was born? Was it usually some large-growing tree, long-lived species that would stand out in the landscape such as an elm, oak or sugar maple?
Farmers out there do you recognize this tree planting custom? Call me at 894-2417 if you have a story to share.
***
Earth lesson? None better than scientist, Bob McDonald of C.B.C.’s Quirks and Quarks. 100 members and friends of the Bert Miller Nature Club were enthralled on December 18 at the Stevensville Conservation Club.
You think that Bob is great on radio you have to experience him in the flesh. He’s a ‘grabber.’ That is he gets your attention right from the start. How much fresh water on earth? Using two of our teenagers, Jessica Winger and Rob Eberly, and a full glass of fresh water, he dramatically showed how much fresh water is actually available. Jessica survived his continual order, “Take a drink, Jessica. Wait a second!”
Bob reminded us that we who live on the periphery of the Great lakes, live near the largest bodies of fresh water in the world. What are we doing to protect and preserve this vital source? Bob is extremely funny but he can be dead serious.
Bob McDonald is a space scientist and with the use of excellent slides he took us around the world, the moon, to Mars, Saturn and unique moons such as Europa. He discussed the effect of gravity and the fact that we really don’t know enough about the phenomenon.
He described a night in Tanzania and the disclosure of the heavens in that part of he world. He mesmerized you with this vivid experience that he had. Are we alone in the universe? The need to have the right criteria for life on this circular ball of stone, earth, is critical. He pointed out that so far the planets and moons are devoid of life.
Bob encourages young people especially “To get outside and experience reality. Think about this world!”
Winter time - clear nights. Dress warmly and step out and look up. Get acquainted with the starry heavens. Why not?
I heard the rumbles. Feed English sparrows and starlings while our song birds go hungry! My brother, Ed , said a fellow church member of his remarked, “Tell that writer brother of yours that when the bluebirds return I’ll ship up all the sparrows and starlings he wants!” Plato, not much support for my feeding all the birds regardless of size, colour or denomination.
Defence. Remember where I was in the 1980’s. On the farm with lots of feed for all. Remember that if I didn’t feed the sparrows and starlings, where would they end up? - at your feeders in Ridgeway maybe even in Fort Erie!
***
Gone from South Kaobel Road is the old oak tree that once harboured Red-tails and countless Turkey vultures. It stood there for years all alone and now it’s gone. Question. Was it once the custom on farms in the area to plant a sapling in the year in which a family baby was born? Was it usually some large-growing tree, long-lived species that would stand out in the landscape such as an elm, oak or sugar maple?
Farmers out there do you recognize this tree planting custom? Call me at 894-2417 if you have a story to share.
***
Earth lesson? None better than scientist, Bob McDonald of C.B.C.’s Quirks and Quarks. 100 members and friends of the Bert Miller Nature Club were enthralled on December 18 at the Stevensville Conservation Club.
You think that Bob is great on radio you have to experience him in the flesh. He’s a ‘grabber.’ That is he gets your attention right from the start. How much fresh water on earth? Using two of our teenagers, Jessica Winger and Rob Eberly, and a full glass of fresh water, he dramatically showed how much fresh water is actually available. Jessica survived his continual order, “Take a drink, Jessica. Wait a second!”
Bob reminded us that we who live on the periphery of the Great lakes, live near the largest bodies of fresh water in the world. What are we doing to protect and preserve this vital source? Bob is extremely funny but he can be dead serious.
Bob McDonald is a space scientist and with the use of excellent slides he took us around the world, the moon, to Mars, Saturn and unique moons such as Europa. He discussed the effect of gravity and the fact that we really don’t know enough about the phenomenon.
He described a night in Tanzania and the disclosure of the heavens in that part of he world. He mesmerized you with this vivid experience that he had. Are we alone in the universe? The need to have the right criteria for life on this circular ball of stone, earth, is critical. He pointed out that so far the planets and moons are devoid of life.
Bob encourages young people especially “To get outside and experience reality. Think about this world!”
Winter time - clear nights. Dress warmly and step out and look up. Get acquainted with the starry heavens. Why not?
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The Wood duck
Sad but True Earl Plato
\A beautiful, crested multicoloured small duck that
reappeared in Marcy Wood pond this spring. Ten years ago a pair nested at the pond area for three consecutive springs. This year just the strikingly male
Wood duck. At Stevensville Conservation Club wood duck boxes were placed near the creek. Hope was to attract a pair. Wood ducks have a habit of nesting in tree cavities. Marcy Woods has a lot of them. This enables tem to breed in areas lacking ground cover. The young leave the nest soon after hatching. I have been told that the parents eject the young unceremoniously. “Time to fly, kids!” Sadly t he Stevensville pond area six wood duckling swam after mother. I monitored the mother and young ones for a few weeks. You know the story. A large snapping turtle took all the little ones. I observed a snapper take one. Audubon Guide says, “Snapping turtles take a heavy toll of them.” I know.
\A beautiful, crested multicoloured small duck that
reappeared in Marcy Wood pond this spring. Ten years ago a pair nested at the pond area for three consecutive springs. This year just the strikingly male
Wood duck. At Stevensville Conservation Club wood duck boxes were placed near the creek. Hope was to attract a pair. Wood ducks have a habit of nesting in tree cavities. Marcy Woods has a lot of them. This enables tem to breed in areas lacking ground cover. The young leave the nest soon after hatching. I have been told that the parents eject the young unceremoniously. “Time to fly, kids!” Sadly t he Stevensville pond area six wood duckling swam after mother. I monitored the mother and young ones for a few weeks. You know the story. A large snapping turtle took all the little ones. I observed a snapper take one. Audubon Guide says, “Snapping turtles take a heavy toll of them.” I know.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Martin Time
Nature Calls Earl Plato
It was over fifty years ago that the late Fort Erie naturalist Bert Miller wrote only two words down in his daily log book- Skunk Cabbage. He recorded the location of it on Halloway bay Road and the early spring date. Rob Eberly, president of the Bert Miller Nature Club, has seen that we have saved Bert’s great volume of records. Bert taught me as a youth to keep nature logs and I have over the years. Two words that I recorded in one of my little books were- martins return. the date - April 17th, 1987. Almost to the day our twenty or so Purple martins would return each year to our two large martin houses at the family farm. Amazing. Were they the same migrating colonies each year? I don’t know. Some research tells me that the males arrive first followed within a day or two by the females. Why? It makes sense that the male martins check the sites out first. Purple plumaged? Not really. Look closely, The male is not purple but uniformly blue-black throughout. They appear black from a distance. They have a moderately forked tail. Females are gray to white below. Their upperparts are mixed blue and gray. No purple there either. The late Art Box in Fort Erie sold many a martin house in his day. Art’s structures were such that you could lower them to the ground. You clean out the many nesting sites and prepare it for the martins’ arrival. But, as often happened, English sparrows would take advantage of the empty nesting sections. Art would demonstrate with his martin houses. Lower the house again and clean out the sparrow nests. That usually was enough to discourage any further pirating of the martin house until their mid-April arrival. I love Purple martins. They make a twittering sound as they ready their nests. They catch insects on the fly. This was mosquito country and the avaricious martins did a good job of controlling them at the farm. Interested in bringing martins to your property? Read up the literature on the Internet. Buy a good martin house and hope that the scouts will check yours out. I was told that a pond or body of water must be nearby, Not so. We had no water right there on the farm and we had Purple martins each year. Check out the literature at the library too. Best of all ask someone who has been successful in attracting this delightful member of the swallow family.
It was over fifty years ago that the late Fort Erie naturalist Bert Miller wrote only two words down in his daily log book- Skunk Cabbage. He recorded the location of it on Halloway bay Road and the early spring date. Rob Eberly, president of the Bert Miller Nature Club, has seen that we have saved Bert’s great volume of records. Bert taught me as a youth to keep nature logs and I have over the years. Two words that I recorded in one of my little books were- martins return. the date - April 17th, 1987. Almost to the day our twenty or so Purple martins would return each year to our two large martin houses at the family farm. Amazing. Were they the same migrating colonies each year? I don’t know. Some research tells me that the males arrive first followed within a day or two by the females. Why? It makes sense that the male martins check the sites out first. Purple plumaged? Not really. Look closely, The male is not purple but uniformly blue-black throughout. They appear black from a distance. They have a moderately forked tail. Females are gray to white below. Their upperparts are mixed blue and gray. No purple there either. The late Art Box in Fort Erie sold many a martin house in his day. Art’s structures were such that you could lower them to the ground. You clean out the many nesting sites and prepare it for the martins’ arrival. But, as often happened, English sparrows would take advantage of the empty nesting sections. Art would demonstrate with his martin houses. Lower the house again and clean out the sparrow nests. That usually was enough to discourage any further pirating of the martin house until their mid-April arrival. I love Purple martins. They make a twittering sound as they ready their nests. They catch insects on the fly. This was mosquito country and the avaricious martins did a good job of controlling them at the farm. Interested in bringing martins to your property? Read up the literature on the Internet. Buy a good martin house and hope that the scouts will check yours out. I was told that a pond or body of water must be nearby, Not so. We had no water right there on the farm and we had Purple martins each year. Check out the literature at the library too. Best of all ask someone who has been successful in attracting this delightful member of the swallow family.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
The Great Gray Problem A Few Years Ago
The Great Gray Nature Is Calling You Earl Plato
From Marcie Jacklin, one of the great ‘birders’ in our Bert Miller Nature Club I quote, “ Migration has taken a turn for the better after that wonderful last weekend.” I have said that I had seen at least 100 Turkey vultures at Beamer’s Point above Grimsby. Marcie reported via her e-mail the following: “ ... viewed hundreds of vultures soaring in from the southeast. They were everywhere, a count of 1400 for the day.” 1400! I am heading for Beamer’s Point again with daughter Diane this week. She’ll make sure that I count correctly. 100 shouldn’t be hard to beat, eh?
***
Readers of my articles may remember my Great Gray owl writeup. The Owl Foundation in Vineland, Ontario has been overwhelmed by the number of Great Gray Owls it has admitted this past year. They have received over 40 Great Grays far over the usual number. Some require immediate surgery and some are so badly injured that they are humanely put down. Others just need a safe place to recover. They will be assessed for their potential early or ultimate release. What a beautiful raptor it is. The Owl Foundation relies almost exclusively on private donations.
Kay McKeever, founder and president , would appreciate financial help with this unprecedented influx of Great Grays. Tax deductible contributions. Write to: The Owl Foundation. RR1 Vineland Station Ontario LOR 2EO View Website: www.theowlfoundation.ca
***
The Friendship Trail in Fort Erie is open again. Reports from frequent walkers such as Keith Bailey of Crescent park report seeing many birds and a Bald eagle. This could be the same eagle reported in the same area the past month. All three sightings were in the same general area.
Have the eagles finally landed? Tim Seburn of the Bert Miller Nature Club reported a pair of Bald eagles building a nest on the northeast corner of Navy Island. Elaine and I went to the Chippawa area and set up the bird scope. There appears to be a nest on the east side (facing New York State) of this uninhabited Canadian Island. We hope so. Have you seen any ‘Balds’ lately? Birds that is.
From Marcie Jacklin, one of the great ‘birders’ in our Bert Miller Nature Club I quote, “ Migration has taken a turn for the better after that wonderful last weekend.” I have said that I had seen at least 100 Turkey vultures at Beamer’s Point above Grimsby. Marcie reported via her e-mail the following: “ ... viewed hundreds of vultures soaring in from the southeast. They were everywhere, a count of 1400 for the day.” 1400! I am heading for Beamer’s Point again with daughter Diane this week. She’ll make sure that I count correctly. 100 shouldn’t be hard to beat, eh?
***
Readers of my articles may remember my Great Gray owl writeup. The Owl Foundation in Vineland, Ontario has been overwhelmed by the number of Great Gray Owls it has admitted this past year. They have received over 40 Great Grays far over the usual number. Some require immediate surgery and some are so badly injured that they are humanely put down. Others just need a safe place to recover. They will be assessed for their potential early or ultimate release. What a beautiful raptor it is. The Owl Foundation relies almost exclusively on private donations.
Kay McKeever, founder and president , would appreciate financial help with this unprecedented influx of Great Grays. Tax deductible contributions. Write to: The Owl Foundation. RR1 Vineland Station Ontario LOR 2EO View Website: www.theowlfoundation.ca
***
The Friendship Trail in Fort Erie is open again. Reports from frequent walkers such as Keith Bailey of Crescent park report seeing many birds and a Bald eagle. This could be the same eagle reported in the same area the past month. All three sightings were in the same general area.
Have the eagles finally landed? Tim Seburn of the Bert Miller Nature Club reported a pair of Bald eagles building a nest on the northeast corner of Navy Island. Elaine and I went to the Chippawa area and set up the bird scope. There appears to be a nest on the east side (facing New York State) of this uninhabited Canadian Island. We hope so. Have you seen any ‘Balds’ lately? Birds that is.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Point Abino Ontario
Nature is calling Earl Plato
It’s another great weather day on Monday in May at Point Abino. As a Federation of Ontario naturalist I enter through the gates and head for Brown Road. What a change in a week wild plant-wise.
Again I am solo. Don’t get me wrong I enjoy companionship but I am in a private setting. I pull off the end of the road and this time I take my bird glasses and my new walking stick. It’s after nine o’clock as I ramble westwards down the Bert Miller Nature Trail. As I go I remove small and large branches until I reach a large fallen ash. I sit down and listen. “Purdy, Purdy, Purdy.” Bird heaven. Ahead Dutchman’s breeches , wild leeks, trout lily. and bloodroot - all in blossom this day.
It’s another great weather day on Monday in May at Point Abino. As a Federation of Ontario naturalist I enter through the gates and head for Brown Road. What a change in a week wild plant-wise.
Again I am solo. Don’t get me wrong I enjoy companionship but I am in a private setting. I pull off the end of the road and this time I take my bird glasses and my new walking stick. It’s after nine o’clock as I ramble westwards down the Bert Miller Nature Trail. As I go I remove small and large branches until I reach a large fallen ash. I sit down and listen. “Purdy, Purdy, Purdy.” Bird heaven. Ahead Dutchman’s breeches , wild leeks, trout lily. and bloodroot - all in blossom this day.
Lake George NY and snakes
Nature Calls Earl Plato
Is Lake George, New York State, the Queen of American Lakes ? I believe it is. The 32 mile long lake is fed by mammoth underground springs. It includes 108 miles of shoreline and about 300 islands. Now an island here could be a few square yards of rock peaking out on the surface. Or one we passed by on our steamship, Mohican, that was over a mile long. It was a state owned island with plenty of places to dock and camp for $17 a day. We were at Lake George for two days in late September. The last time we were headed there was September 11th, 2001! You know what happened then. We headed home pronto but with the desire to see this gem of a lake once again. This time in late September it was perfect weather. The deciduous trees were at about 40% of their full Fall foliage colour. Yes, there were some brilliant reds appearing in the maples. Alas, the amusement park with our old Crystal Beach Comet coaster ride was closed for the season. However, Lake George area is truly a “gem” in many ways.
***
As we passed slowly by the mile long state park island on Lake George the captain told us that campers there should wear high boots. Why? Timber rattlers exist there! Garter snakes galore and Red bellies too? I think so. I have walked and climbed the hills and mountains in the Adirondack region over the years, I have seen both Timber rattlesnakes and the Redbelly snakes. However, the last time I saw a Redbelly locally was on an upward path in our own Shorthills Provincial Park. Ernie Giles stopped Debbie and I. “Look there’s a Redbelly.” Only about a foot long it is a beautiful little snake. Ernie turned the snake over and there was a brick-red belly separated from the sides by small black spots. I had thought that it was just another Garter snake as its back was a dark brown. Not so. Ernie pointed to three yellow spots on its neck like a necklace. It had a white throat. Most attractive. Turn your garter snake over, eh. You may have a non-venomous Red belly! Ernie, the consummate naturalist, said, “Smell this, Earl.” It was a mild musky odour that Red bellies exude when threatened. Be curious in nature.
Is Lake George, New York State, the Queen of American Lakes ? I believe it is. The 32 mile long lake is fed by mammoth underground springs. It includes 108 miles of shoreline and about 300 islands. Now an island here could be a few square yards of rock peaking out on the surface. Or one we passed by on our steamship, Mohican, that was over a mile long. It was a state owned island with plenty of places to dock and camp for $17 a day. We were at Lake George for two days in late September. The last time we were headed there was September 11th, 2001! You know what happened then. We headed home pronto but with the desire to see this gem of a lake once again. This time in late September it was perfect weather. The deciduous trees were at about 40% of their full Fall foliage colour. Yes, there were some brilliant reds appearing in the maples. Alas, the amusement park with our old Crystal Beach Comet coaster ride was closed for the season. However, Lake George area is truly a “gem” in many ways.
***
As we passed slowly by the mile long state park island on Lake George the captain told us that campers there should wear high boots. Why? Timber rattlers exist there! Garter snakes galore and Red bellies too? I think so. I have walked and climbed the hills and mountains in the Adirondack region over the years, I have seen both Timber rattlesnakes and the Redbelly snakes. However, the last time I saw a Redbelly locally was on an upward path in our own Shorthills Provincial Park. Ernie Giles stopped Debbie and I. “Look there’s a Redbelly.” Only about a foot long it is a beautiful little snake. Ernie turned the snake over and there was a brick-red belly separated from the sides by small black spots. I had thought that it was just another Garter snake as its back was a dark brown. Not so. Ernie pointed to three yellow spots on its neck like a necklace. It had a white throat. Most attractive. Turn your garter snake over, eh. You may have a non-venomous Red belly! Ernie, the consummate naturalist, said, “Smell this, Earl.” It was a mild musky odour that Red bellies exude when threatened. Be curious in nature.
They're Back!
Big Bird by Earl Plato
Think big. In that great little pocket of Carolinian Canada, Marcy Woods, pileated woodpeckers were seen and heard.
When? This second week in May, 2008. Have you ever heard the “Cuk-cuk-cuk-cuk” of this our largest woodpecker or its loud tapping sounds? “Rat-a-tat-tat-tat.”
I have taped their calls and drillings in Marcy Woods in past years. They love the Yellow birch as shown by the big cavities that they have chiselled out. See photo below. Yellow birch trees flourish here. Unlike our white paper birch the yellows live several decades more. Walk the Lower Trail and off to your north you will see these good sized trees with their buttery coloured curled back strips of bark.
Think big. In that great little pocket of Carolinian Canada, Marcy Woods, pileated woodpeckers were seen and heard.
When? This second week in May, 2008. Have you ever heard the “Cuk-cuk-cuk-cuk” of this our largest woodpecker or its loud tapping sounds? “Rat-a-tat-tat-tat.”
I have taped their calls and drillings in Marcy Woods in past years. They love the Yellow birch as shown by the big cavities that they have chiselled out. See photo below. Yellow birch trees flourish here. Unlike our white paper birch the yellows live several decades more. Walk the Lower Trail and off to your north you will see these good sized trees with their buttery coloured curled back strips of bark.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Marcy Oh Marcy Woods
Nature Calls Earl Plato
We were away heading west to Lake Huron. No one told me about the Review article. C’mon Plato, that’s your excuse? Truly, I missed the piece about Marcy Woods. I assume friends thought I knew. In the article Mr. Dino DiCienzo Sr. is standing before the Marcy cabin. I recently received a copy of that September piece from a reader of my nature column. Review reporter, Corey Larocque, has a good write-up for many reasons. I now have hope. John Lessle, nature photographer from Buffalo, called the other day.
John is a wiry 86 year old. He asked, “Earl, how about chances of walking Marcy Woods this spring?” I told him that the new owners have ‘no trespassing signs’ at the Marcy farm. This is understandable.
However, good news from the new owners, the DiCienzos, for us nature lovers. Their mandate is that if visitors respect the Woods as nature lovers they are welcome there for hiking. No farm entry anymore but access through the regular entrance at the Kennels will be possible. That’s all I ask for John and me and other nature lovers. Thanks for the opportunity to visit an old friend, Marcy Woods, with an old American friend. The “Marcy Legacy” lives on. Thank you Mr. DiCienzo.
We were away heading west to Lake Huron. No one told me about the Review article. C’mon Plato, that’s your excuse? Truly, I missed the piece about Marcy Woods. I assume friends thought I knew. In the article Mr. Dino DiCienzo Sr. is standing before the Marcy cabin. I recently received a copy of that September piece from a reader of my nature column. Review reporter, Corey Larocque, has a good write-up for many reasons. I now have hope. John Lessle, nature photographer from Buffalo, called the other day.
John is a wiry 86 year old. He asked, “Earl, how about chances of walking Marcy Woods this spring?” I told him that the new owners have ‘no trespassing signs’ at the Marcy farm. This is understandable.
However, good news from the new owners, the DiCienzos, for us nature lovers. Their mandate is that if visitors respect the Woods as nature lovers they are welcome there for hiking. No farm entry anymore but access through the regular entrance at the Kennels will be possible. That’s all I ask for John and me and other nature lovers. Thanks for the opportunity to visit an old friend, Marcy Woods, with an old American friend. The “Marcy Legacy” lives on. Thank you Mr. DiCienzo.
I Don't Give a Dam.
NATURE CALLS Earl Plato
This recent call from a Niagara Falls reader confirmed again that there are beavers on the loose in Niagara. “On the Welland River near the S.P.C.A. there are beavers felling trees.” Over the past several years we have had beavers sighted in rural east Port Colborne and at Point Abino in Fort Erie. Our national emblem is trying to reestablish itself again. This was great beaver country once and after the decimation of the Attiwandarons (Neutral) indians in the 1600’s our Niagara peninsula remained a great beaver hunting ground for the Seneca Iroquois, Thanks to Tim Tiner in his Wild Woods Guide for the following background on the beaver, builder of dams and fortunes. “Mad as a hatter!” What does that have to do with our beaver, Castor canadensis? Read on. Europeans came regularly to Canada for the cod but it was the beaver that beckoned them into our interior. With the European beaver becoming virtually extinct visiting vessels tapped into a luxury market in beaver pelts. Local natives were only too happy to trade for metal tools and implements. Europeans in the upper classes craved broad hats made of beaver pelts, BUT! Mercury was used to separate the fur from the longer guard hairs and to break it down to felt. Sadly the poisonous mercury caused mental deterioration among the ungloved hatmakers. The expression “mad as a hatter,” became associated with the beaver pelt industry. A sad price to pay for fashion. eh?
***
Eagles and more eagles. The American Bald eagle is attempting to return to Niagara. Rick Stockton, vice - president of the Bert Miller Nature Club, saw a pair out in Lake Erie off Thunder Bay recently. He also cited the fact that a pair were working on a nest on Strawberry Island. One was carrying a large branch to an old cormorant nest! I know where those old double crested cormorants nested. Let’s hope that they settle down on this tiny island just north of Fort Erie. This past Saturday I set up my bird scope on the river bank across from the island. Bob Summerville, local birder, pulled up behind us and we both looked for the birds and any signs of nest activities. No luck this day. If we are fortunate it will be the first eagles’ nest on this top end of the Niagara River since 1940. What a wonderful sight to behold. Keep birding.
This recent call from a Niagara Falls reader confirmed again that there are beavers on the loose in Niagara. “On the Welland River near the S.P.C.A. there are beavers felling trees.” Over the past several years we have had beavers sighted in rural east Port Colborne and at Point Abino in Fort Erie. Our national emblem is trying to reestablish itself again. This was great beaver country once and after the decimation of the Attiwandarons (Neutral) indians in the 1600’s our Niagara peninsula remained a great beaver hunting ground for the Seneca Iroquois, Thanks to Tim Tiner in his Wild Woods Guide for the following background on the beaver, builder of dams and fortunes. “Mad as a hatter!” What does that have to do with our beaver, Castor canadensis? Read on. Europeans came regularly to Canada for the cod but it was the beaver that beckoned them into our interior. With the European beaver becoming virtually extinct visiting vessels tapped into a luxury market in beaver pelts. Local natives were only too happy to trade for metal tools and implements. Europeans in the upper classes craved broad hats made of beaver pelts, BUT! Mercury was used to separate the fur from the longer guard hairs and to break it down to felt. Sadly the poisonous mercury caused mental deterioration among the ungloved hatmakers. The expression “mad as a hatter,” became associated with the beaver pelt industry. A sad price to pay for fashion. eh?
***
Eagles and more eagles. The American Bald eagle is attempting to return to Niagara. Rick Stockton, vice - president of the Bert Miller Nature Club, saw a pair out in Lake Erie off Thunder Bay recently. He also cited the fact that a pair were working on a nest on Strawberry Island. One was carrying a large branch to an old cormorant nest! I know where those old double crested cormorants nested. Let’s hope that they settle down on this tiny island just north of Fort Erie. This past Saturday I set up my bird scope on the river bank across from the island. Bob Summerville, local birder, pulled up behind us and we both looked for the birds and any signs of nest activities. No luck this day. If we are fortunate it will be the first eagles’ nest on this top end of the Niagara River since 1940. What a wonderful sight to behold. Keep birding.
A small wee bird BUT
Bell- Hummingbird.08 Earl Plato
“Faster than a speeding bullet.” We are on our way to rural Wainfleet this late April day, 2008 to see our daughter, Son-in-law, and two grandsons AND the Ruby-throated hummingbirds.
The Stokes ask the question - “What is it about hummingbirds that we humans find so fascinating?” Each year at the O’Brien’s we watch these delightful little guys flit about the feeders. I believe that their tiny size is the main reason. The Ruby-throated weighs only a tenth of an ounce and measures 3 and ¾ inches ( 9 cm). As they hover near the feeder you see their sparkling jewel-like plumage.
Grandson Lucas netted one trapped in the garage. It was flying into the walls trying to escape. “So small, grandpa. It played dead but when I opened the net it flew away.” I enjoy watching the antics of these miniscule songbirds.
Watch the hummingbirds that come to your yard. Wife, Elaine, is buying a hummingbird feeder for our back deck. There is still much to be learned about their behaviour. What are the patterns about their relations between male and female, adults of he same sex, and adults and young? Hummingbirds are very aggressive around their food sources. Wild times at the O’Brien feeders, I know. You will see much chasing and displaying, sometimes even directed at humans! The Ruby-throated hummingbird nest is the size of a thimble. Amazing world we live in, eh.
“Faster than a speeding bullet.” We are on our way to rural Wainfleet this late April day, 2008 to see our daughter, Son-in-law, and two grandsons AND the Ruby-throated hummingbirds.
The Stokes ask the question - “What is it about hummingbirds that we humans find so fascinating?” Each year at the O’Brien’s we watch these delightful little guys flit about the feeders. I believe that their tiny size is the main reason. The Ruby-throated weighs only a tenth of an ounce and measures 3 and ¾ inches ( 9 cm). As they hover near the feeder you see their sparkling jewel-like plumage.
Grandson Lucas netted one trapped in the garage. It was flying into the walls trying to escape. “So small, grandpa. It played dead but when I opened the net it flew away.” I enjoy watching the antics of these miniscule songbirds.
Watch the hummingbirds that come to your yard. Wife, Elaine, is buying a hummingbird feeder for our back deck. There is still much to be learned about their behaviour. What are the patterns about their relations between male and female, adults of he same sex, and adults and young? Hummingbirds are very aggressive around their food sources. Wild times at the O’Brien feeders, I know. You will see much chasing and displaying, sometimes even directed at humans! The Ruby-throated hummingbird nest is the size of a thimble. Amazing world we live in, eh.
A small wee bird BUT
Bell- Hummingbird.08 Earl Plato
“Faster than a speeding bullet.” We are on our way to rural Wainfleet this late April day, 2008 to see our daughter, Son-in-law, and two grandsons AND the Ruby-throated hummingbirds.
The Stokes ask the question - “What is it about hummingbirds that we humans find so fascinating?” Each year at the O’Brien’s we watch these delightful little guys flit about the feeders. I believe that their tiny size is the main reason. The Ruby-throated weighs only a tenth of an ounce and measures 3 and ¾ inches ( 9 cm). As they hover near the feeder you see their sparkling jewel-like plumage.
Grandson Lucas netted one trapped in the garage. It was flying into the walls trying to escape. “So small, grandpa. It played dead but when I opened the net it flew away.” I enjoy watching the antics of these miniscule songbirds.
Watch the hummingbirds that come to your yard. Wife, Elaine, is buying a hummingbird feeder for our back deck. There is still much to be learned about their behaviour. What are the patterns about their relations between male and female, adults of he same sex, and adults and young? Hummingbirds are very aggressive around their food sources. Wild times at the O’Brien feeders, I know. You will see much chasing and displaying, sometimes even directed at humans! The Ruby-throated hummingbird nest is the size of a thimble. Amazing world we live in, eh.
“Faster than a speeding bullet.” We are on our way to rural Wainfleet this late April day, 2008 to see our daughter, Son-in-law, and two grandsons AND the Ruby-throated hummingbirds.
The Stokes ask the question - “What is it about hummingbirds that we humans find so fascinating?” Each year at the O’Brien’s we watch these delightful little guys flit about the feeders. I believe that their tiny size is the main reason. The Ruby-throated weighs only a tenth of an ounce and measures 3 and ¾ inches ( 9 cm). As they hover near the feeder you see their sparkling jewel-like plumage.
Grandson Lucas netted one trapped in the garage. It was flying into the walls trying to escape. “So small, grandpa. It played dead but when I opened the net it flew away.” I enjoy watching the antics of these miniscule songbirds.
Watch the hummingbirds that come to your yard. Wife, Elaine, is buying a hummingbird feeder for our back deck. There is still much to be learned about their behaviour. What are the patterns about their relations between male and female, adults of he same sex, and adults and young? Hummingbirds are very aggressive around their food sources. Wild times at the O’Brien feeders, I know. You will see much chasing and displaying, sometimes even directed at humans! The Ruby-throated hummingbird nest is the size of a thimble. Amazing world we live in, eh.
Go For It!
Bell 11.08 Earl Plato\
A Retiree Goes to Hawk Mountain
When retirement comes you should have a plan for enjoying each day the Lord has given you. I know enjoyment comes in many forms. Some retired people I know find joys some days visiting the sick in their homes or hospitals. That’s great. Some play a round of golf with their friends. Many retirees I know just like to take a good walk. Be active. Be useful while you can.
I was on a hawk watch. I planned to visit famous Hawk Mountain in north eastern Pennsylvania. This raptor sanctuary is both remote but accessible. We drove a divided highway most of the way. We drove in rain and arrived in rain. My computer oriented weather forecast had let me down. Torrential downpour. The weather was lousy, with waves of torrential rain pelting Hawk Mountain. Take it easy. There’s always tomorrow. We headed to Reading for the night. It was about twenty miles south. We came back to the sanctuary next day as the sun burst through. We had come all this way to see hawks. We went to the outdoor theatre where two park rangers gave us a hawk and owl lessons. They had two permanently damaged birds. The first was a nine year old red-tiled hawk The second was a Great horned owl. All of us asked many questions of the two knowledgeable rangers. It was a worthwhile experience. Then the rains came again, Head for the center, eh. The center had various dioramas and well presented. Both Ed and I bought Hawk mountain caps, We paid our $3.00 for the climb. The monies were used to run the sanctuary/\Note: Years ago Hawk Mountain was a place where target shooters would come in the fall to kill thousands and thousands of migrating hawks. It was a wanton slaughter! Not now. The land is posted and well-guarded by the park rangers We didn’t minding paying the fee. Yes three of us had good climbing boots. I had my Shenandoah walking staff , however, this time because of the slippery rocks it as more of a detriment. Most of the people we met on the arduous climb were hawk watcher enthusiasts. We read the trail markers. I decided to take the short trail to the North Lookout. Mistake! It was a bad move. Huge twenty foot high boulders confronted us. The next half hour was spent climbing this tortuous path. Finally we reached the other side. Here the trail was much easier. We rested. It was misty and visibility poor. There were about ten of us gathered there on the top of Hawk Mountain. Poor day we saw and heard a pair of sharp-shinned hawks. That was it. The rains returned and we headed for the woods and the downward path. A great place but with terrible weather for we three Canadians.
Lesson learned. Call or e-mail ahead to determine good weather times. Elaine and I are planning a return in the Fall of 08.
A Retiree Goes to Hawk Mountain
When retirement comes you should have a plan for enjoying each day the Lord has given you. I know enjoyment comes in many forms. Some retired people I know find joys some days visiting the sick in their homes or hospitals. That’s great. Some play a round of golf with their friends. Many retirees I know just like to take a good walk. Be active. Be useful while you can.
I was on a hawk watch. I planned to visit famous Hawk Mountain in north eastern Pennsylvania. This raptor sanctuary is both remote but accessible. We drove a divided highway most of the way. We drove in rain and arrived in rain. My computer oriented weather forecast had let me down. Torrential downpour. The weather was lousy, with waves of torrential rain pelting Hawk Mountain. Take it easy. There’s always tomorrow. We headed to Reading for the night. It was about twenty miles south. We came back to the sanctuary next day as the sun burst through. We had come all this way to see hawks. We went to the outdoor theatre where two park rangers gave us a hawk and owl lessons. They had two permanently damaged birds. The first was a nine year old red-tiled hawk The second was a Great horned owl. All of us asked many questions of the two knowledgeable rangers. It was a worthwhile experience. Then the rains came again, Head for the center, eh. The center had various dioramas and well presented. Both Ed and I bought Hawk mountain caps, We paid our $3.00 for the climb. The monies were used to run the sanctuary/\Note: Years ago Hawk Mountain was a place where target shooters would come in the fall to kill thousands and thousands of migrating hawks. It was a wanton slaughter! Not now. The land is posted and well-guarded by the park rangers We didn’t minding paying the fee. Yes three of us had good climbing boots. I had my Shenandoah walking staff , however, this time because of the slippery rocks it as more of a detriment. Most of the people we met on the arduous climb were hawk watcher enthusiasts. We read the trail markers. I decided to take the short trail to the North Lookout. Mistake! It was a bad move. Huge twenty foot high boulders confronted us. The next half hour was spent climbing this tortuous path. Finally we reached the other side. Here the trail was much easier. We rested. It was misty and visibility poor. There were about ten of us gathered there on the top of Hawk Mountain. Poor day we saw and heard a pair of sharp-shinned hawks. That was it. The rains returned and we headed for the woods and the downward path. A great place but with terrible weather for we three Canadians.
Lesson learned. Call or e-mail ahead to determine good weather times. Elaine and I are planning a return in the Fall of 08.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Tough Guys Mute Swans in Fort Erie?
Bell21.08
Bad Guys in Fort Erie? By Earl Plato
The photo below shows two beautiful swans. Right?
Looks can be deceiving. Look closely at the swans. See the prominent black knob at the base of the orange bill. You have mute swans. These guys were introduced from Europe. When? I don’t know. These guys are tough when it comes to nesting. Beware of Cygnus color when they are breeding. A pair will defend the nest and young against all comers. Case in point. A pair of breeding mallard try to establish a nesting site by mutes. No way. The inoffensive mallards are driven harshly away. Humans too look out. They can use their powerful wings and strong bills to inflict some damage. I have been struck by the wings of domestic geese. It hurts. Mute swans have a much powerful hitting force. Mute swans are extremely handsome birds I admit, however, their less than friendly social skills are not admired. Marcy Jacklin, bird expert from Brock University tells us that Fot Erie has been lucky. Trumpeter and Tundra swans are welcome on our waters. We have been blessed with large numbers these past years. Thankfully only a few mute swans. Look again at the photo, eh.
Bad Guys in Fort Erie? By Earl Plato
The photo below shows two beautiful swans. Right?
Looks can be deceiving. Look closely at the swans. See the prominent black knob at the base of the orange bill. You have mute swans. These guys were introduced from Europe. When? I don’t know. These guys are tough when it comes to nesting. Beware of Cygnus color when they are breeding. A pair will defend the nest and young against all comers. Case in point. A pair of breeding mallard try to establish a nesting site by mutes. No way. The inoffensive mallards are driven harshly away. Humans too look out. They can use their powerful wings and strong bills to inflict some damage. I have been struck by the wings of domestic geese. It hurts. Mute swans have a much powerful hitting force. Mute swans are extremely handsome birds I admit, however, their less than friendly social skills are not admired. Marcy Jacklin, bird expert from Brock University tells us that Fot Erie has been lucky. Trumpeter and Tundra swans are welcome on our waters. We have been blessed with large numbers these past years. Thankfully only a few mute swans. Look again at the photo, eh.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Ginkgo
Bell17.08 Gingko by Earl Plato
It’s good to have friends contact you by e-mail or by snail mail. Cynthia Skinner is one of those friends who supplies me with newspaper nature articles. Cynthia works the winter in Arkansas as a nurse. Soon she will return to her Sherkston, Ontario home. I will meet her at the next Bert Miller Nature Club meeting and thank her. One of her articles clipped from the Arkansas Democrat Gazette caught my eye. It was about that primitive Ginkgo tree. I had viewed this unique tree at Longwood Gardens near Philadelphia, PA. It was a huge tree well over 100 years old. On returning home I was told about the Gingko tree east of the parking lot at the historic MacFarlane House on the Niagara Parkway. I know the tree and its unusual leaf, This is the tree of the dinosaur age. (Ginkgo biloba) has few close elatives. We are told that they are deciduous that grow to 100 feet or more. Gingko trees in China are reported to be several centuries old! I have a pressed ginkgo leaf. It is a triangular, fan-shaped leaf with prominent veins running the length of the leaf. You know I like the colour yellow in nature. Visit he MacFarlane house this fall. Want a striking fall colour effect? The gingko leaves turn to a beautiful golden yellow.
Note: The fleshy yellow fruit produced on female ginkgo trees are stinky. Naturalist friend Ernie said they are reminiscent of fresh “dog poop.” However, each fruit produces a big (supposedly) edible seed.
Gingko trees - look for them in Niagara.
It’s good to have friends contact you by e-mail or by snail mail. Cynthia Skinner is one of those friends who supplies me with newspaper nature articles. Cynthia works the winter in Arkansas as a nurse. Soon she will return to her Sherkston, Ontario home. I will meet her at the next Bert Miller Nature Club meeting and thank her. One of her articles clipped from the Arkansas Democrat Gazette caught my eye. It was about that primitive Ginkgo tree. I had viewed this unique tree at Longwood Gardens near Philadelphia, PA. It was a huge tree well over 100 years old. On returning home I was told about the Gingko tree east of the parking lot at the historic MacFarlane House on the Niagara Parkway. I know the tree and its unusual leaf, This is the tree of the dinosaur age. (Ginkgo biloba) has few close elatives. We are told that they are deciduous that grow to 100 feet or more. Gingko trees in China are reported to be several centuries old! I have a pressed ginkgo leaf. It is a triangular, fan-shaped leaf with prominent veins running the length of the leaf. You know I like the colour yellow in nature. Visit he MacFarlane house this fall. Want a striking fall colour effect? The gingko leaves turn to a beautiful golden yellow.
Note: The fleshy yellow fruit produced on female ginkgo trees are stinky. Naturalist friend Ernie said they are reminiscent of fresh “dog poop.” However, each fruit produces a big (supposedly) edible seed.
Gingko trees - look for them in Niagara.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Good Sense, eh!
Senses Earl Plato
My smelling sense is okay. For me it’s eyesight. I need to be with some one who has good eyesight. They sight the bird and then I have a little time to focus on it. We have the Hooded warbler on the Upper Trail at Marcy Woods. My hearing is good and I have taped the call of the Hooded warbler. It’s a loud song that’s whistled - “weeta-wee-tee-o” Listen for a metallic “Chink, chink” too as it forages. I am trying to see it this weekend. Do you have good eyesight? It has a black hood and bib and a bright yellow face. I hope to see one but I may need help.
***
Rediscovered in 2006! Thanks to the University of Guelph Field Naturalists at Marcy Woods this past Saturday. We had just met owner Dino Di Cienzo who greeted us on the Lower Trail. As we walked along I told Kevin Butt, the Guelph botanist, about the Wild Ginger plant. When I was ten or so my father and I went with naturalist Bert Miller to Niagara Glen. Bert had a plan for the Woods. He removed a number of these plants. That same day we went to Abino Woods ( it was known then as Marcy Woods) and transplanted them around a large maple tree on the Lower Trail east of the cabin. There they grew for years. Lift up the heart-shaped leaves of this low lying plant and find a curious purple-brown flower. Since I have returned to Marcy Woods I couldn’t find the Wild Ginger. Thanks to Peter Foebel, a past President of the Bert Miller Nature Club, who told me recently, “Earl, they’re still there near the stump.” We stood at the huge overturned maple stump when Kevin of Guelph Field naturalists called to me. “Here they are at the back of the stump!” One of the lady naturalists found some others of them while walking up to the cabin. It’s too early for the flowers yet but a great rediscovery for plant lovers of the Woods. Be excited about nature offerings.
Writer’s note: The root has a strong ginger-like odour. Don’t dig up this rare plant or an plant on this private protected property! In the old days the late Fort Erie naturalist Bert Miller told us that when the root was cooked with brown sugar it was used by the early settlers as a confectionary. By itself it could be used as a substitute for ginger. Ginger bread cookies comes to mind. How are your taste buds?
Note: Rob Eberly, Ridgeway naturalist, has a fine growth of Wild Ginger growing at his place, Very Impressive.
My smelling sense is okay. For me it’s eyesight. I need to be with some one who has good eyesight. They sight the bird and then I have a little time to focus on it. We have the Hooded warbler on the Upper Trail at Marcy Woods. My hearing is good and I have taped the call of the Hooded warbler. It’s a loud song that’s whistled - “weeta-wee-tee-o” Listen for a metallic “Chink, chink” too as it forages. I am trying to see it this weekend. Do you have good eyesight? It has a black hood and bib and a bright yellow face. I hope to see one but I may need help.
***
Rediscovered in 2006! Thanks to the University of Guelph Field Naturalists at Marcy Woods this past Saturday. We had just met owner Dino Di Cienzo who greeted us on the Lower Trail. As we walked along I told Kevin Butt, the Guelph botanist, about the Wild Ginger plant. When I was ten or so my father and I went with naturalist Bert Miller to Niagara Glen. Bert had a plan for the Woods. He removed a number of these plants. That same day we went to Abino Woods ( it was known then as Marcy Woods) and transplanted them around a large maple tree on the Lower Trail east of the cabin. There they grew for years. Lift up the heart-shaped leaves of this low lying plant and find a curious purple-brown flower. Since I have returned to Marcy Woods I couldn’t find the Wild Ginger. Thanks to Peter Foebel, a past President of the Bert Miller Nature Club, who told me recently, “Earl, they’re still there near the stump.” We stood at the huge overturned maple stump when Kevin of Guelph Field naturalists called to me. “Here they are at the back of the stump!” One of the lady naturalists found some others of them while walking up to the cabin. It’s too early for the flowers yet but a great rediscovery for plant lovers of the Woods. Be excited about nature offerings.
Writer’s note: The root has a strong ginger-like odour. Don’t dig up this rare plant or an plant on this private protected property! In the old days the late Fort Erie naturalist Bert Miller told us that when the root was cooked with brown sugar it was used by the early settlers as a confectionary. By itself it could be used as a substitute for ginger. Ginger bread cookies comes to mind. How are your taste buds?
Note: Rob Eberly, Ridgeway naturalist, has a fine growth of Wild Ginger growing at his place, Very Impressive.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Marcy Beach 2008
The scene above is that of the shoreline of the Marcy Woods property. The photo is deceiving. Why? The absence of trees. Dr. George Marcy and friends planted more than 10,000 trees over the years. While other beach landowners paid thousands to build rock barriers the good doctor did it naturally. Visit the property today in 2008 and see a wide, beautiful beach. East and west from the property you see narrow beaches in front of the huge stone man made walls. Thank you Dr. Marcy.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
The 'Rock"
Newfoundland 2006 Earl Plato
Fraser Churchill born and aised in Newfondland was glad that my wife, Elaine, made it to the “Rock.” “When are you going back? He asked recently this may. Here’s an article I wrote for he Niagara Falls Rev1ew last year.
We were told that there were no snakes or skunks in Newfoundland. During our ten days in Newfoundland we saw no road kill. Yes, they have raccoons and squirrels. We saw twelve moose mainly on the west side of the province. Most of these giant animals were in the wetlands. We saw a few near the only highway in the area. There were signs to warn us of moose crossing areas. Our big Denure tour bus meeting a bull moose circa 2,000 lb. would be quite a collision. At Twillingate in the north at the local lighthouse point we saw several Humpback whales as they jetted their sprays into the air. These are huge mammals as I found out later. At Grand Falls we visited the giant salmon ladder. The Atlantic salmon are raised there and when large enough climb the man-made ladder to reach the upper reaches of the Exploits River where they spawn. You can see these fish up close through a glassed in area. Salmon and cod were on the menu all over the island. Excellent eating. On to St. John’s where I went on a whale watching hunt on a catamaran. All ready cancelled the day before because of stormy weather we braved the elements the next day. After all we had come this far to see whales up close. I normally can take care of boat motion, however, I took a Gravol and it worked. Several people were seasick as the boat plunged into the rolling waves. Then a mother Humpback and her young came into sight. A marvellous view as they dove and emerged. The mother whale blowing her jet of water. Four dolphins passed by us as we headed for Puffin island. Hundreds of Kittiwakes and thousands of Puffins were seen and smelled. The ammonia from their droppings assailed our nostrils as we neared the cliffs. Countless nesting holes on the cliff side held these colourful Puffins called “Sea parrots.” A rare sighting of a Northern Phalarope was shown to me by one of the boatmen. As I viewed it with my binoculars he said, “That’s a female phalarope. They’re the colourful one. Brighter than the male. He’s the one who incubates the eggs,” as he chuckled. Was he kidding me? Not so. Check it out. The “Rock” is a great place to visit. However, we saw only one lonely iceberg. Plenty of flora and fauna though.
Fraser Churchill born and aised in Newfondland was glad that my wife, Elaine, made it to the “Rock.” “When are you going back? He asked recently this may. Here’s an article I wrote for he Niagara Falls Rev1ew last year.
We were told that there were no snakes or skunks in Newfoundland. During our ten days in Newfoundland we saw no road kill. Yes, they have raccoons and squirrels. We saw twelve moose mainly on the west side of the province. Most of these giant animals were in the wetlands. We saw a few near the only highway in the area. There were signs to warn us of moose crossing areas. Our big Denure tour bus meeting a bull moose circa 2,000 lb. would be quite a collision. At Twillingate in the north at the local lighthouse point we saw several Humpback whales as they jetted their sprays into the air. These are huge mammals as I found out later. At Grand Falls we visited the giant salmon ladder. The Atlantic salmon are raised there and when large enough climb the man-made ladder to reach the upper reaches of the Exploits River where they spawn. You can see these fish up close through a glassed in area. Salmon and cod were on the menu all over the island. Excellent eating. On to St. John’s where I went on a whale watching hunt on a catamaran. All ready cancelled the day before because of stormy weather we braved the elements the next day. After all we had come this far to see whales up close. I normally can take care of boat motion, however, I took a Gravol and it worked. Several people were seasick as the boat plunged into the rolling waves. Then a mother Humpback and her young came into sight. A marvellous view as they dove and emerged. The mother whale blowing her jet of water. Four dolphins passed by us as we headed for Puffin island. Hundreds of Kittiwakes and thousands of Puffins were seen and smelled. The ammonia from their droppings assailed our nostrils as we neared the cliffs. Countless nesting holes on the cliff side held these colourful Puffins called “Sea parrots.” A rare sighting of a Northern Phalarope was shown to me by one of the boatmen. As I viewed it with my binoculars he said, “That’s a female phalarope. They’re the colourful one. Brighter than the male. He’s the one who incubates the eggs,” as he chuckled. Was he kidding me? Not so. Check it out. The “Rock” is a great place to visit. However, we saw only one lonely iceberg. Plenty of flora and fauna though.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Mr. "Eagle" man Bob Chambers
Bell18.08 Earl Plato
He’s gone. Mr. ‘Eagle’ is gone. Bob Chambers passed away
suddenly in May, 2008. Gone is a man who knew the presence of the Bald eagle locally as well as anyone I knew. Whether it be eagles on Navy Island or an eerie on the Grand River near Dunnville Bob would investigate their presence. Even after being confined to a wheelchair he used the internet to keep informed. Many of us in the Bert Miller Nature Club will miss him. He was an amazing man. Bob would dedicate himself completely to a project. Bob was intimately involved in the Peregrine falcon Watch at Niagara Falls a few years ago. He spent countless hours there. A very good photographer he gave me some great shots of the parents and young of the resident falcons.
Lesson learned. If you or I suffer some debilitating illness take stock from Bob. With good wife Emma he was able to carry on a productive life. You were always greeted with a warm welcome from him. The big man was ever learning about nature. He designed the Bert Miller Club badge with the Palliated woodpecker drawn by him. This beautiful bird was sighted back in Marcy Woods this spring. I wanted to call Bob with the news. Sadly too late. His pastor at his funeral gave a wonderful overview of his life. One great man, Bob Chambers, and we will miss him.
He’s gone. Mr. ‘Eagle’ is gone. Bob Chambers passed away
suddenly in May, 2008. Gone is a man who knew the presence of the Bald eagle locally as well as anyone I knew. Whether it be eagles on Navy Island or an eerie on the Grand River near Dunnville Bob would investigate their presence. Even after being confined to a wheelchair he used the internet to keep informed. Many of us in the Bert Miller Nature Club will miss him. He was an amazing man. Bob would dedicate himself completely to a project. Bob was intimately involved in the Peregrine falcon Watch at Niagara Falls a few years ago. He spent countless hours there. A very good photographer he gave me some great shots of the parents and young of the resident falcons.
Lesson learned. If you or I suffer some debilitating illness take stock from Bob. With good wife Emma he was able to carry on a productive life. You were always greeted with a warm welcome from him. The big man was ever learning about nature. He designed the Bert Miller Club badge with the Palliated woodpecker drawn by him. This beautiful bird was sighted back in Marcy Woods this spring. I wanted to call Bob with the news. Sadly too late. His pastor at his funeral gave a wonderful overview of his life. One great man, Bob Chambers, and we will miss him.
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