Sunday, September 30, 2018

Snapshot of Autumn

There are so many rapid changes in the fall season that it can be hard to keep up with them all: temperatures decreasing; daylight hours steadily shortening; leaves turning yellow, red, orange, and brown; herbaceous plants dying in the fields; birds, butterflies, and dragonflies migrating; animals of all sorts fattening up; etc.  Taking photographs of nature helps me to track some of these ecosystem-level changes and cycles.  In the neighborhood, many of the wildflowers, including giant ironweed (Vernonia gigantea), a gorgeous native plant, have gone to seed.  
 
giant ironweed with seeds
 In August, these ironweed plants looked like this:

ironweed in August
However, as you can see in both the top photo and the one below, some of the ironweed is still flowering.  This species blooms through the late summer and into the fall.  Its flowers and leaves provide food for insects, and the seeds attract several species of birds.

September ironweed blossoms
Not all of the wildflowers are past their peak.  The goldenrod (which is probably the tall goldenrod, Solidago altissima), growing among the greenery of the woodland edges, has such vivid yellow flowers that it almost seems to glow.  These autumnal plants will probably continue to bloom for at least another month.

goldenrod
The toll that the long season has taken on some of the insects and spiders in the area can be clearly seen.  A common wood-nymph butterfly, a species typically found around shaded forest edges, looks a little the worse for wear.  The damage to its wings is, in all likelihood, the result of a few narrow escapes from birds.

common wood-nymph
One of the many orb-weaver spiders hanging around in the mid-level vegetation is missing legs: two of them seem to be entirely gone, and about half of a third one has also been amputated.  I don’t know whether this damage is from a bird or from something else, but, despite its disability, the arachnid is apparently still managing to eke out a living.

orb-weaver
Even though I don’t know for certain what caused the spider’s injuries, it’s fun to speculate.  Who knows what the culprit might have been?  While a lot of the birds around here feed on seeds and fruits, many more are either partly or exclusively insectivorous—or, since spiders aren’t insects, maybe the more accurate term would be invertivorous (invertebrate-eating).  Anyway, Red-bellied Woodpeckers certainly could be fierce and daring enough to have done it, from what I’ve observed.  I doubt that I’ll ever forget the afternoon at Noxubee National Wildlife Refuge, over a decade ago, when I saw a Red-bellied Woodpecker and a Northern Cardinal zipping through the woods in hungry pursuit of a Luna moth.  Woodpeckers might not seem like the most agile of birds, but I can attest that this Red-bellied was quite maneuverable!  I never saw what became of the Luna moth, but maybe it managed to evade the predators.  

A much less hurried—for now, at least—Red-bellied Woodpecker clings to a lichen-covered branch.  No need to chase moths or nab giant spiders—there must be plenty of food to discover beneath the tree bark.

Red-bellied Woodpecker on branch
Eastern Bluebirds patrol the grassy areas under the power lines, hunting for insects.  Their large, dark eyes and “open” faces give bluebirds an appearance of inquisitiveness.  That may not be entirely a fanciful notion, though, since bluebirds are great at investigating every inch of their environment for food and nesting places.  Any crack, crevice, or hole of sufficient size in a tree, box, or fencepost might serve as a suitable bluebird nest spot, and all sorts of arthropods and fruits make up the species’ diet.

Eastern Bluebird
A short, squeaky sound that recalls the noise made by sneakers on a gym floor alerts me to the arrival of a Rose-breasted Grosbeak.  Then another one flies in, landing very close to the first.  It’s the peak migration time for this species, and these two individuals seem to be merely stopping over for a brief spell.  They remain in the tops of the trees along the creek run for only a few minutes before flying away.

The first of the grosbeaks lands.
Two grosbeaks -- the earlier bird is on the right.
The lower photo provides an interesting comparison between the two individuals.  The bird at the right is definitely a male, and at least two years old, given that it has bold black-and-white wings, extensive dark feathering on the head, and a very distinct breast patch.  However, I’m not so certain about the bird on the left.  It’s either a female or a hatching-year male.  In the spring and summer, older male Rose-breasted Grosbeaks have entirely black heads and bright rose-pink breast patches.  The McGill Bird Observatory does an excellent job of describing the variation in these birds’ plumages (http://www.migrationresearch.org/mbo/id/rbgr.html#ahymb), and their website is one of the sources I’ve perused in my attempts to figure out the age and sex of birds that I’ve seen.  As I’ve learned over the years, though, ageing and sexing birds isn’t always possible in the field.  Obviously, birds that don’t display sexual dimorphism, such as Northern Mockingbirds, can’t be definitively sexed in the field under most circumstances (including when they are singing, apparently, since both males and females participate in that activity), but there are more sexually dimorphic species than you might think that can nevertheless befuddle observers.

Speaking of mockingbirds, both they and their close relatives, Brown Thrashers, are pretty vocal and active this time of year.  Unlike the mockingbirds, the thrashers aren’t singing right now (in the southeastern part of their range, they typically sing from March to May—and, in case you’re wondering, the females apparently do not sing), but they make their loud chak! calls on a regular basis as they forage in the dense thickets.  
 
Northern Mockingbird
Brown Thrasher
Both of these species, along with bluebirds, woodpeckers, and many others, will remain in this area through the winter.  Certain other birds, such as the Rose-breasted Grosbeak, show up here for only a very short time.  It’s the transitory nature of the season that can make it so simultaneously frustrating and exciting!