two favourites

We saw some Cedar waxwings at Marcy Woods one late May day. Beautiful as the woods were now my winter thoughts turned to Algonquin Park. I can’t help it. I love the Park as many of you do. As we were walking in one of the side trails off the main highway waxwings passed through and some stopped for us to see. Do you know the story of Cedar waxwings? Jim Mountjoy of Algonquin Park shares this, “... the waxy feather tips of Cedar waxwings are the red badge of age, usually being well developed in birds that are two years of age or more. The matings of waxwings is not done randomly. Older, waxy winged birds mate with a similarly endowed birds, leaving the younger waxwings, inexperienced birds, to flounder along with each other as best they can. No doubt our older human males with their distinctive gray hair will be quick to see the justice here - “... the lesson is of course that the badge of age is also the badge of maturity and competence.” What about us guys who are going balder?
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In the recent January, 2005 magazine Birder’s World there was a photo of a Golden eagle, one of my most favourite raptor. The article entitled Where to Watch Golden Eagles tells of more and more Goldens taking an eastern route south during migration. Yes, at Hawk Mountain in central Pennsylvania is a place I have visited both physically and on line. Golden eagles, those magnificent birds , are coming east. At Cummings Nature Park near Rochester, New York and at the Simcoe Fair I was up close to tethered Golden eagles. You can find out from the Hawk Mountain Sanctuary website when these great birds return. The best time slots are mid-October and all of November. You can print out a daily record of the raptors returning and plan a trip. Just a warning the ascent to the top is rugged. It’s there you can best view the myriads of migrating raptors. Want an eagle fix? Plan for it.

A crow is a crow is a crow! Not so, especially if it’s a dead American crow. Yes, we all know the crow in Ontario. It’s officially known as the American crow. It’s all black with a black bill and eyes. They are approximately 12-16 inches.
Dr. Wayne Gall addressed the Bert Miller Nature Club at Stevensville recently. His researched talk - West Nile virus in Western new York and Southern Ontario. Dr. Gall is with the Western New York Department of Health. His power point presentation of two hours gave the members much up to date data.
This article is centred on our Niagara Region. In 2002 over 1000 dead bird sightings were reported throughout Niagara. You guessed it - American crows topped the list. Its relative, the Blue jay, also has fallen to the deadly virus.The local dead American crows were submitted for testing and only 11 were found to be infected with West Nile virus. Now that’s a small number but common sense caution is to be followed.
Ontario government instructions: “Bird carcassses that are not collected should be buried several feet deep or double bagged and placed with household garbage. Avoid barehanderd contact when handling dead birds.” Wear disposable rubber gloves. “Wash hands thoroughly with soap and water after disposing of the carcass.”
Find a dead bird. Report it to the Regional Niagara Public Health Department at Hotline 905-688 -8248 extension7335 or 1-888-505-6074 extension7335. Leave a detailed mesage regarding the dead crow, your name and a contact number. Let’s stay on top of WNv!
Next: Clean up your act and help stop West Nile virus.

Father's Day

On this coming Father’s Day I thought about two men who had a lasting influence on my life. My father, Perc, stands out as a caring father. As a quarantined eight year old who had just survived crippling polio I started sketching. I tried to draw a horse but not very well. My father took my pencil and quickly sketched a horse. It was perfect in my young mind. I replicated that drawing many times until I thought that I could compare it favourably with his. I have been sketching in nature ever since. His friend, Bert Miller, encouraged me to make a bird book with sketches of what I saw. Bert became a father-figure to me in the years of my youth that followed. This article is about Bert Miller.***Albert (Bert) Weatherstone Miller was born in 1882 on the old homestead at Miller’s Creek on the Niagara River. We had erected in his memory a small granite stone and a plaque near that site. It’s still there. Bert was one of God’s athletes. He kept himself in shape. Day after day following retirement from Horton Steel he would venture out into the natural environment. In all kinds of inclement weather he would visit nature locations in the Niagara peninsula. My father and I were fortunate to go with him on many occasions. This I know - Bert was not a self-seeking man. He loved nothing more than to share many of his finds and knowledge of our natural world. Bert needed to have his body in top shape for many of his excursions were not easy. He would scale cliff walls and enter caves in quest of some rare plant. He ate healthful food much of it naturally grown. As a child I remember his nutty snacks. Even his inevitable cookies were wholesome. As far as I know he didn’t smoke or drink alcohol. He was like an athlete in training - lean and supple - a tall man. At age 86 he travelled with my Grade 8 class to Point Abino. He was full of enthusiasm. He was continually observing things around him. He still possessed great endurance as we walked the Abino sand hills. He was an amazing man! Bert died at age 91. Year after year when many of us were too tired or full of apathy Bert, God’s natural athlete, kept on. Be thankful for your fathers both biologically or by relational choice. Love them. Happy Father‘s Day. Do some good act in memory of them. Planting a good tree is one way.

Black what?

It was black and scurrying among the huge boulders at the water’s edge below the pavilion. Daughter, Allison, first spied it in mid-November, 2003. They were at the boat launch site at Fort Erie’s water park near the Palmwood Hotel at Crystal Beach. What was it? Allison made clicking noises and the black furred animal headed toward them as they stood at the pavilion. Wait! Allison stopped making the noises. She described the black animal as sleek. Was it a weasel or a ferret she asked her mother. The animal searched the rock crevices along the water’s edge. Looking for food it appeared. It was a relatively small animal. It had a bushy tail and they estimated it to be less than two feet in length. I knew what it was - a wild mink and from its size - a female!
Bud and Ed had trapped a mink in our barn years ago. I watched as they maneuvered a cage and captured the angry mink. What an animal. It hissed and snarled. My father took the mink to Burger’s Mink farm in Ridgeway. It was not an ordinary mink. It was a pregnant one! A few weeks later it gave birth to six little minks. Have you ever been to a mink farm? I approached the caged confines of our captive mink and its young. It struck at the wire barriers with a ferocious response to me. Smell! Our female mink exuded a fetid discharge. I said, “It’s worse that a skunk’s!” I had been sprayed by a skunk so I had some basis for comparison. I was told the mink’s odour dissipates quickly unlike the skunk’s long, lingering smell.
The wild mink is a voracious hunter. He likes muskrats as a preferred prey. He kills by biting the neck of the victim. His den is usually found near water and he often takes over the muskrat’s burrow. Chicken coops and wild minks means a massacre. They often kill all the chickens in a blood lust. Both sexes like to fight potential enemies. Besides fighting rival minks the male has been known to take on foxes, bobcats, and lynxes. A tough customer indeed. He has one serious predator. It’s not a mammal. It’s a bird - the Great horned owl.
Wild minks are found throughout North America. Ernie Giles, former area naturalist, called the other day. In the conversation he told of a ‘roadkill’ mink at the wetlands corner of Gorham and Garrison in Ridgeway. It was a large male mink again black furred. See any minks locally lately?

‘Witch’s Broom.’

My wife and I saw the movie ‘Harry Potter.’ Did you see enough broomsticks to last your life? This article is about a natural anomaly. It is called the ‘Witch’s Broom’ and it lives in the Ridgeway and vicinity. Former area naturalist and scientist Ernie Giles, first introduced me to the ‘Witch’s Broom.’ Guess where? At the entrance of the Lower Trail at Marcy Woods there is a tall hemlock on your left. Look up high and you will see a large sphere shaped growth. It’s not a natural growth but an anomaly. Ernie the scientist said something like this. “ A Witch’s Broom is a crowded mass of abnormal branching.” What we had there up in the hemlock were dwarfed little hemlocks. Ernie said that the Japanese cultivate miniature trees through a botanical art called Bonsai. What we had here was an unnatural occurrence.
I have walked this same route in Marcy Woods countless times. I always look up at the Witch’s Broom. Those who have accompanied me know I usually never fail to mention the anomaly. Nature is interesting.
What brings about these thick, lush rapidly growing formations on hemlocks, pines and other evergreens? A Buffalo botanist once told us at the site that there are different theories as to the source of Witch’s Broom. He felt that a virus disturbs the hormonal balance in an elongating bud. The virus stunts the buds growth and generates many lateral (side) branches. The Marcy hemlock holds this dense clump of growth. My photos of the Marcy site didn’t show the “broom” too well.

Rob Eberly, local naturalist, took me to the Thunder bay site of a Witch’s Broom. Rob travels the area through his work and is on the lookout for these anomalies. Call me at 905-894-2417 if you know where one is in the Niagara Peninsula.
Go to the Internet for further knowledge. I typed in ‘Witch’s Broom Virus.’ In a scientific dissertation we read that infectious forms of Witch’s Broom is caused by a virus. Enough said. Look up WAU Abstract no.219