Tag: norfolk nature

Norfolk Naturalist Year in Photos, (Dec 2022-Nov 2023)

Post author By hiebertjeffrey
Post date December 29, 2023
No Comments on Norfolk Naturalist Year in Photos, (Dec 2022-Nov 2023)

Siederia walshella, on the Lynn Valley Trail, April 2023:

On a walk on the trail by my house, I spotted this tiny creature (about a cm long) climbing up the trunk of a tree. I’m not positive on the identification, but it’s based on iNaturalist’s auto-ID for my photo and seems to match from what I can tell. If the ID is correct, this tiny caterpillar was likely searching for lichen to eat.

Eastern Spotted Newt (Notophthalmus viridescens), in my Parents’ pond, April 2023:

For the past few years, my parents’ garden pond has been host to these amazing creatures. All amphibians impress with their transformation from aquatic to terrestrial life but the Eastern Spotted Newt outdoes this life cycle with some incredible twists and turns. Larval newts transform into terrestrial juveniles (known as “efts”) and leave the water behind, living in the leaf litter. While on land, the efts have a rough reddish brown skin which keeps moisture in. After two to seven years, the efts undergo another transformation, darkening in colour and gaining a raised tail fin which aids them as they return to the water as aquatic adults. The newt pictured above is in this final stage of life: an aquatic adult. This isn’t necessarily the end of the newt’s transformations however, since some newt adults leave the water and regain some of their terrestrial attributes (rougher dry skin, loss of tail fin) for hibernation on dry land (Harding and Mifsud 2017).

Greater Bee Fly (Bombylius sp.), Lynn Valley Trail, April 2023:

This fuzzy fly has special adaptations to gather sand in its abdomen which it coats its eggs with before launching the eggs into solitary wasp nests (dug in sand presumably) (Marshall 2012). The larvae hatch from the eggs and enter the nest chambers of their host before feeding on a single host larva each (making the Bee Flies parasitoids, consumers of a single prey item).

Canada Goose (Branta canadensis) Parent and Gosling, Grant Andersen Park, May 2023:

Canada Geese are both common and abundant so they usually don’t catch my eye, but I really liked how the gosling was in the exact same pose as its nearby parent in this photo.

Spotted Sandpiper (Actitis macularius), Grant Andersen Park, May 2023:

The picture is blurry because the action was taking place across some water from my camera lens, but this fascinating courtship display was happening right in the middle of Simcoe in Grant Andersen Park. These shorebirds performed their display a few times and then mated and dispersed.

Sandhill Crane (Grus canadensis) family, Long Point, May 2023:

Sandhill Cranes have captures my heart with their wild resonant calls and their impressive size. It was a special treat to watch this family of two parents and two young foraging at the edges of a marsh in Long Point.

Canada Warbler (Cardellina canadensis), Long Point Old Cut Birding Station, May 2023:

Canada Warblers migrate into Ontario to breed during May/June, creating nests near the ground on stumps or small mounds (Bezener 2016). Then in late summer/early Fall they set off again to leave the Canadian winter behind them. Like other Wood-Warblers (the Family Parulidae) they consume insects and spiders, taken from plants or the ground.

White-Tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus), Lynn Valley Trail, June 2023:

This deer was incredibly close to the trail, so I was able to capture its gaze among the purple wildflowers.

Velvet Ant (Timulla vagans), Backyard, July 2023:

Velvet Ants are not members of the ant superfamily (Formicoidea) but are instead solitary wasps (members of the family Mutillidae). Their larvae develop as parasitoids on the larvae of other wasps (in the case of Timulla vagans, their hosts are Crabronids and Eumenine wasps (Marshall 2023)). The males of Timulla vagans are winged unlike the ant-like females and will carry the wingless females in their mandibles during their mating flight (Waldren et al 2020).

Physocephala marginata, Backyard, July 2023:

Although this insect drinking nectar appears to be a wasp, it is actually a fly of the Family Conopidae. Female Physocephala marginata seek out their lookalikes (wasps and bees) at flowers. After apprehending a host wasp or bee, P. marginata uses its abdomen to insert an egg inside the host’s abdomen (Marshall 2012). The egg hatches inside and the larval Conopid consumes the host from the inside.

Tachinid Fly (Exorista sp.), Backyard, August 2023:

Tachinid Flies are yet another group of parasitoid insects. Stephen Marshall, in his giant book on flies had this to say about this huge family of flies: “The Tachinidae is in many ways the ultimate fly family. With almost 10,000 named species and thousands more awaiting description… exhibits an unparalleled variety of sizes, shapes and colors. The range of life history strategies is equally amazing, at least within the constraint that every know species in the group is a parasitoid that develops inside another insect… or related arthropod” (Marshall 2012, p 386). Hosts of this genus are caterpillars or sawfly larvae.

Brown Marmorated Stink Bug (Halyomorpha halys), Backyard, August 2023:

This species of Stink Bug is native to East Asia but was introduced to North America accidentally in the 1990s. As with many successful and widespread introduced species, the Brown Marmorated Stink Bug can feed on a wide diversity of plants and can be a serious pest of agriculture and gardens. The pictured insect is a nymph, not quite an adult because it is missing fully developed wings across its back.

Green Heron (Butorides virescens), Waterford Ponds, August 2023:

The above photo was actually taken by my wife on an outing to Waterford Ponds. She was quicker on the draw to find and focus on this beautiful bird amidst the morning mist and tangled reeds of its marshy habitat. I’ve written an article about these amazing birds because of a different close encounter I had, go here to learn more!

Common Whitetail Dragonfly (Plathemis lydia), Front of House, September 2023:

As I was entering my house, I was stopped by the sight of this wondrous insect framed perfectly on my siding beside my door. I carefully entered the house to retrieve my camera in order to get this picture. One of the first Dragonflies photographed at my house since I don’t have a backyard pond… yet. The Common Whitetail pictured is a male, distinguishable because it has the chalky white abdomen which it uses as a signal to chase other males off of its territory. Females of this species have multiple bands on their wings and a dark abdomen.

Double-crested Cormorant (Nannopterum auritum), Lynn River, September 2023:

When swimming in the water, a cormorant reminds me of a hook-billed loon or a merganser, but their especially long neck gives them away. Like loons and mergansers, cormorants are underwater divers, pursuing fish prey amid lakes and rivers. This one was foraging in the Lynn River right in the middle of Simcoe, and I was very excited to get a close look at its sleek profile as it dried off on the bank. You can’t see them in the photo, but it was amidst a crowd of Canada Geese.

Great Spangled Fritillary (Argynnis cybele), Backyard, September 2023:

I at first thought this large butterfly was a Monarch (Danaus plexippus) as it was nectaring among our milkweed patch, but I quickly realized it was a different species. After patrolling our garden, this fluttering visitor rested and spread its wings on our orange plastic picnic table where I snapped this picture. The caterpillars of this species make it through our winter, after hatching just before the cold arrives (Hall et al 2014).

Black Swallowtail Caterpillar (Papilio polyxenes), Backyard, September 2023:

These colourful caterpillars feed on plants in the Carrot family (Apiaceae), and there were several munching away on our garden carrots this year. My 3-year old son helped me demonstrate one of their defensive strategies for this photo. If provoked these conspicuous caterpillars unfold the orange organ featured here, named an osmeterium, which has a foul odor (I would describe it as old rotten cheese, it was surprisingly powerful for such a small creature) (Marshall 2006). If I were a caterpillar-foraging bird or mammal, I would avoid such smelly prey.

Virginia Giant Hover Fly (Milesia virginiensis), Backus Woods, September 2023:

As the name implies, this fly was large and conspicuous in a sunny clearing. The larvae of these large flower flies (Syrphidae) develop inside rotting trees, sometimes inside tree holes (Skevington and Locke 2019).

Shadow Darner (Aeshna umbrosa), Backus Woods, September 2023:

Darners are huge dragonflies (over 7 cm long), instantly noticeable when in flight but this one cooperated in staying still while I took its picture. The Shadow Darner is named after its habit of flying late in the day (even at dusk) and staying mostly in shade (Marshall 2006). This one was photographed in the afternoon.

Chinese Mantis (Tenodera sinensis), Backyard, September 2023:

There are no Mantids native to Ontario, both of our common species: the European Mantis (Mantis religiosa) and the Chinese Mantis pictured here, were introduced to North America over a hundred years ago (Marshall 2006). This very large and impressive insect was clambering through my garden and nicely posed for a few pictures but this was my favourite photo I took, showcasing its powerful grasping forelegs and its triangular head.

References:

Bezener, Andy. 2016. Birds of Ontario. Partners and Lone Pine Publishing.

Hall, Peter, Jones, Colin, Guidotti, Antonia, and Hubley, Brad. 2014. The ROM Field Guide to Butterflies of Ontario. Royal Ontario Museum.

Harding, James H. and Mifsud, David A. 2017. Amphibians and Reptiles of the Great Lakes Region. University of Michigan Press.

Marshall, Stephen. 2006. Insects: Their Natural History and Diversity. Firefly Books.

Marshall, Stephen. 2012. Flies: Their Natural History and Diversity. Firefly Books.

Marshall, Stephen. 2023. Hymenoptera: The Natural History and Diversity of Wasps, Bees, and Ants. Firefly Books.

Skevington, Jeffrey H. and Locke, Michelle M. 2019. Field Guide to the Flower Flies of Northeastern North America. Princeton University Press.

Waldren GC, Roberts JD, Pitts JP (2020) Phoretic copulation in the velvet ant Sphaeropthalma pensylvanica (Lepeletier) (Hymenoptera, Mutillidae): A novel behavior for Sphaeropthalminae with a synthesis of mating strategies in Mutillidae. Journal of Hymenoptera Research 78: 69-89. https://doi.org/10.3897/jhr.78.55762

For last year’s photo recap, see: Norfolk Naturalist Year in Photos (Dec 2021-Nov 2022)

Tags biology, entomology, flies, insects, macrophotography, Natural history, nature, nature observation, naturephotography, norfolk county, norfolk nature, ontario, ornithology, pollinators, wasps

Nature Observations

The American Woodcock in Literature and in Life

Post author By hiebertjeffrey
Post date April 29, 2023
3 Comments on The American Woodcock in Literature and in Life

There we were, a dozen or so people standing in a field, waiting, watching, and listening. The sky began to darken, the pinks and oranges of sunset had mostly disappeared, melting into a deep purple. The chorus of trilling toads (Anaxyrus americanus) and the Eastern Towhee (Pipilio erythropthalmus) calling out its name in the woods only increased the tension on our strained ears. Suddenly, we heard the first sharp peent from the distance. We moved as a group to try to line ourselves up with the repeated metallic sound. The almost electronic or perhaps frog-like sound was produced by a very strange-looking bird, a bird that was our focus tonight. Once we thought we knew where the bird was calling from, we resumed our watchful stance, binoculars and camera lenses trained on the brush and the purplish sky above it. Then suddenly our guide, Audrey Heagy, announced that the bird was rising through the air because she could hear its wings whistling upward. Looking around I couldn’t see any living thing against the dusk sky. It felt for the first few times like a sort of magic trick. And indeed, misdirection is the bird’s intent. Eventually I got used to watching the sky for tiny dark shapes and my ears became attuned to the pitch of the birds’ wings on their ascents and descents above the darkening fields. Even so, there were times when we would hear the peent of a grounded bird so sharply and clearly that we knew exactly where it was patrolling on the ground despite not being able to see it. We would focus all of our senses on this presumed location and then be fooled by the mysterious bird’s magic tricks.

There are many natural phenomena that I have read about before encountering personally. This was one such event: the skydance of the American Woodcock (Scolopax minor) male.

To give you an idea of what this bird looks like, and to show you their camouflage, here is a video I took of a Woodcock foraging in Pinery Provincial Park, in October 2018.

There are a few ways the Woodcock gets away with such an obvious display and yet remains safe from predators. When first launching and on final landing approach, the Woodcock moves not vertically but horizontally for a few meters, without making a sound. This silent horizontal movement really works to confuse observers as evidenced by the group of naturalists whipping their heads around every time a Woodcock would begin ascending not directly above where it was on the ground, but several meters away. The sound of their whistling wings seems to fill the air, making it extremely difficult to pinpoint where in the sky the sound is coming from.

Besides a blurry shape overhead (once winging directly over our group), we didn’t get a visual on these mysterious dancing birds. I had observed one of these stealthy creatures on a previous occasion in the woods of Pinery Provincial Park and every time I looked away I had to re-locate the foraging Woodcock. Their camouflage helps them escape predators and is extremely effective.

Here is a photo I took of the Woodcock I observed in Pinery Provincial Park in October 2018. My wife spotted the Woodcock first, somehow picking out its amazingly camouflaged form from among the fallen leaves.

I would like to end where I began my encounters with the American Woodcock: in the pages of a book. Here is a passage from one of my favourite natural history authors, Edwin Way Teale, who described the Woodcock’s behaviour so elegantly and inspired me to seek it out myself.

From A Naturalist Buys an Old Farm, by Edwin Way Teale:

“Its performance begins with the brown chunky long-billed bird walking about in the open field, turning this way and that, uttering again and again a buzzing nasal ‘peent!’… The call seems now far away, now close at hand, according to the direction the bird is pointing. Then there is a moment of silence. It is followed by the winnowing sound of its wings and we see its dark little form speeding in a wide climbing curve against the light of the sky… Higher and higher in great sweeping circles it mounts above the pasture. We follow with our eyes its retreating form, often losing it in the sky. At the height of its ascent the song begins. The sweet frail twittering sound at times seems to come from all directions, the notes to shower down around us. And while the song goes on it is joined by a quavering musical strain produced by three stiff narrow feathers at each wingtip. They vibrate int he wind as the bird plunges, veering wildly, falling through the sky like a gust-blown leaf. The end comes abruptly – an almost vertical descent to the darkened meadow. Then the “peenting” calls begin once more.”

For previous bird observation blogposts, see:

–Eaters of the Dead

–The Teal Tale Teale Told

–A Green Heron Stalks the Shallows

–Return of the Ravens

–3. Canada Jay (Perisoreus canadensis)

–The Wonders of Wrens

–Pinery Birds, Winter 2019

Tags american woodcock, bird photography, birding, birdwatching, nature, nature ontario, norfolk county, norfolk nature, norfolkfieldnaturalists, ontariobirds, ornithology, scolopax minor

Nature Observations Tumblr Repost

Eaters of the Dead

Bald Eagle photographed in Pinery Provincial Park, September 2021.

Here’s another repost from my old tumblr blog norfolknaturalist.tumblr.com. I’ve added some newer photos of the species involved but otherwise unchanged. Much of this article was inspired by my reading of the book Life Everlasting: The Animal Way of Death, by Bernd Heinrich. I thought the subject and title were appropriate for Halloween season.

Just as we were about to turn into my parents’ driveway last weekend (in April 2018), we saw probably the most iconic bird in North America less than 100 metres away from us down the road. A Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) was dining on a Raccoon roadkill in clear sight.

Perhaps it’s surprising that a bird of such noble renown was seen stooping to consuming carrion, something that we often see as repulsive. The truth is that the line between ‘predator’ and ‘scavenger’ is often a very blurred one. Most animals that eat other animals are willing to eat one that has already died or been killed. To the predator, it contains the same nutrients that it would obtain from its own kill but with much less effort (valuable time and energy) on their part. This isn’t to say that eating pre-killed remains is without risk for a predator or a scavenger. Besides the conflicts with other hunters over the resource, there is an omnipresent and invisible threat to all dead flesh.

Bacteria: organisms that are so tiny they are dwarfed by individual cells of our bodies. Despite being so small, and unseen without a powerful microscope, bacteria operate everywhere in the natural world and one of the most profound activities they perform is nutrient recycling and breakdown. While they disassemble cells and consume dead flesh, bacteria proliferate. Bacteria are the reason that predators can’t eat an animal body that’s been dead for too long. They are the reason dead things go “rotten” and become unpalatable by almost any animals. They are the unseen “competitor” with the visible and charismatic predators.

After at least an hour of feeding, and the frequent interruptions of cars passing, the eagle flew off and left the dead Raccoon. That is when the Turkey Vultures (Cathartes aura) moved in, creatures much more commonly associated with scavenging. And for good reason. Turkey Vultures have the most powerful sense of smell of any bird, and can detect a dead animal from over a mile away. What’s more, they can eat flesh that other creatures would turn down as too far gone. Their digestive system is able to break down the toxins of the ever-present bacteria, making them capable of consuming rotten flesh, where others cannot.

It may be a grisly business, the consumption of the dead, but it is an essential (and amazing) part of ecosystems around the world.

Turkey Vulture photographed in Long Point, October 2021.

Tags bald eagle, cathartes aura, ecology, ecosystems, food webs, haliaeetus leucocephalus, nature, norfolk county, norfolk nature, ontario, scavengers, turkey vulture

Nature Observations

Bullfrogs and Buffleheads

I usually like to discuss my nature observations soon after I make them, but that’s not always possible. In light of this, I’d like to describe some photos I took way back in March of this year. The week was rainy except for one day and I was determined to get out there and take some photos of birds, so I took a drive to Long Point and visited two marshy trails and was successful.

One of my main sightings on this trek were various ducks and geese. Ducks other than Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) have the annoying habit of staying on the far side of whatever water body they are in, which means that I usually can’t take good pictures of them with my camera. On this excursion, I spied many of these groups of ducks keeping a wary distance and took many blurry photos of them. Most of these shy non-Mallards* were Ring-necked Ducks (Aythya collaris). One pair of ducks actually allowed me to get much closer and take decent pictures of them. These were Buffleheads (Bucephala albeola). By their extravagant head design, it was a pair of males. Buffleheads are related to mergansers and similarly dive for their food, which is mostly aquatic insects and snails (Baldassarre 2014). They make their nests in tree cavities (mainly those fashioned by Northern Flickers (Colaptes auratus)), and breed in the northern forests of North America wherever these woodpeckers are commonly nesting (Baldassarre 2014). The Buffleheads I spied floating across a Long Point marsh were either spending the winter here or moving back north to breeding habitats.

*for the record, I have nothing against Mallard Ducks and I usually end up taking pictures of them too (they are quite beautiful birds) but there is definitely a part of me that wants to see and encounter creatures that are new to me and Mallards are… well, they’re the most commonly encountered ducks in the world. I could use a very similar paragraph to explain my feelings toward Canada Geese (Branta canadensis).

Hanging out with the Buffleheads was another waterbird which I initially mistook for a female Bufflehead because of its close proximity to the males and lack of head adornment. A few minutes later the pair of males took off from the water and flew down the waterway in a flurry of black-and-white. Yet this other bird didn’t follow, instead making occasional dives beneath the water surface and popping back up again. When reviewing my photos it became clear that this bird wasn’t a Bufflehead, and it wasn’t even a Duck (member of the family Anatidae). My mystery bird was from an entirely different branch of the bird family tree, despite its superficially duck-like appearance. It was a Grebe (a member of the Family Podicepididae), specifically a Horned Grebe (Podiceps auritus).

Grebes swim in the water by means of their feet which like ducks are expanded to have more surface area but unlike a duck’s ‘webbed’ feet, grebe feet are said to be ‘lobed’. I have never seen a grebe foot before, because their feet are usually under the water while these superb swimmers float or dive. But take a look at this photo of a Horned Grebe and you will see why I mention the feet as they are very impressive.

Horned Grebe, with visible impressive feet, photo by Tomas Wuschke, used with permission.

The Horned Grebe I saw at Long Point was in its much less dramatic winter plumage (cross-reference the beautifully patterned adult in Tomas Wuschke’s photo above with the drab gray/black bird in my photo). They only very rarely breed in Ontario, and even then only at the very northern edge of the province, preferring northern Canada and Alaska where they create nests on floating vegetation in wetlands (Hughes 2001).

Muskrats (Ondatra zibethicus) were ubiquitous on both trails, frequently startling me with sudden splashes before scooting along at the surface or under the water. I observed a couple of these large rodents munching and was curious what they were eating but I was unable to tell from my photos. It could have been anything from vegetation to arthropods to fish since Muskrats are extreme generalists.

Two shockingly large birds flew in from the lake across the marsh, majestic and powerful eagles. Because of their large wingspan, I initially thought the birds to be Herons, which move south to avoid frozen water but will return once the ice has melted. Once I took some pictures I saw that the heads were definitely the heads of raptors, and I later figured out that they were juvenile Bald Eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus).

While driving between the two trails I noticed a frog and did a double take. To notice a frog while driving says something about the frog’s size and indeed this was a representative of the largest frog species in North America: an American Bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus). This frog’s tympanum (the circular depression below and behind the eye) is much larger than its eye and its throat is yellow which indicates that this is a male, and males are generally smaller than females in this species! Bullfrogs can reach 20.3 cm (8 inches) long and will “eat nearly any animal they can capture and swallow” (Harding and Mifsud 2017).

The most noticeable resident on the second trail were the Killdeer (Charadrius vociferus), tearing about on their long legs and piercing the air with their high-pitched repeating calls. I love these birds and their distinctive cries, and seeing this many together at one time was a treat.

This last image has three Killdeer in it, but they are surprisingly difficult to pick out among the marshy mudflats.

Before leaving each trail, I was able to photograph some small sparrows that were foraging along the paths. Watching these birds picking at the ground and presumably finding something to eat made me wonder what they could possibly be finding. A glance at the ground surface revealed no insects to me, but the Killdeer too were digging into the mud and finding plenty to eat. Watching birds forage like this always makes me marvel at the amount of life that must be present to sustain them, life that I couldn’t even see! There must be hundreds of tiny invertebrates that each bird was finding to sustain themselves. What an incredible invisible foundation to these flocks.