Showing posts with label thorny elaeagnus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thorny elaeagnus. Show all posts

Sunday, May 31, 2026

Nesting Northern Cardinals

 

Female Northern Cardinal in Arkansas, November 5, 2013.

Male -- also November 5, 2013, in Arkansas.

If you live in eastern or central North America and spend any time outside, chances are good that you’re familiar with the Northern Cardinal.  Cardinals are so common, in fact, that I confess I tend not to pay them much attention—especially if there are more unusual birds nearby.  But nearly a decade ago, a pair of these birds nested in the thorny elaeagnus shrub near my home, right outside the living room window.  Naturally, I had to pay attention to that!

The cardinals began nesting in the thorny elaeagnus shrub right around the time that the White-eyed Vireos that I wrote about previously were nearly fledged.  I first noticed the female cardinal carrying twigs in her bill to the nest site, which was a few feet higher in the shrub than the vireos’ nest had been.  This was typical behavior.  Female cardinals construct the nests and incubate the eggs, while males bring food to the females during incubation and assist in feeding the young after they hatch.  

As you can see, cardinals build their nests on top of limbs, unlike vireos, which suspend theirs from forks in the branches.  Whenever the female cardinal added new material to the nest, she bent it with her bill and pushed it into a cup shape with her feet.  The outside layers were constructed from twigs, bark, and leaves, while finer materials, such as grasses and pine needles, formed the lining.

June 19, 2016 -- Cardinal building the nest!

Checking early-stage nests too frequently can lead to the parent birds abandoning the site, so I was cautious about getting photos at that point.  By June 28, there were two eggs in the nest, but, since I had been avoiding the nest, I assumed that they had probably been there for two or three days.  Cardinals lay anywhere from one to five eggs, with two to three being more typical.


According to Birds of North America Online, incubation takes 11-13 days.  The eggs were definitely hatched on or before July 7, when I photographed the slightly downy nestlings for the first time.


By July 11, the young birds were much larger and more heavily feathered.  You can see how their bills are starting to turn dark, a characteristic of juvenile cardinals.  Their beak color doesn’t change to red or red-orange until late in the fall.

July 11, 2016

On July 14, the nestlings were nearly ready to fledge.  Although it’s difficult to determine exactly how heavily feathered the average dinosaur might have been, this is what I tend to imagine juvenile dinos looking like.  (On the anatomical level, though, modern birds and the dinosaurs from which they evolved differ very little—so I’d guess that quite a lot of dinosaurs may have had full plumage.)

July 14, 2016

I think that these cardinals fledged on July 15 or 16.  Fledging usually occurs after about nine or ten days, so this estimate seems reasonable.  You can just barely make out one of the nestlings in the center of the photo below.  That photo was from July 15, and the one of the empty nest was taken the next day.  This might have been the second brood of the year from these nonmigratory birds, but I can’t say for certain.

July 15, 2016 -- at least one young cardinal still on the nest

July 16, 2016

Saturday, November 30, 2024

Invasive Trees, Shrubs, and Vines

This is a consolidation of two of my earlier posts about invasive plants in the southeastern United States.  Invasives are simply nonnative species that cause significant harm to ecosystems.  Not all nonnative plants are invasive, but the invasives are very likely to be the ones that you notice on a daily basis!  Because the list of exotic plant species present in Mississippi alone (from this site: https://www.se-eppc.org/mississippi/) is lengthy and still increasing, I thought it made sense to focus on the invasive trees, shrubs, and vines that I commonly see in my part of the state.

Let’s start with trees.  A couple of quick definitions: although there are some exceptions, the general rule is that trees have a single woody stem or trunk, while shrubs have multiple woody stems/trunks.  Most of the trees that I regularly observe are native to my area, but, every so often, I will come across an invasive species or two—especially near urban settings.  Some commonly-seen cultivated plants, such as the ginkgo (an ancient, living fossil species that was wiped out across much of its range during the Pleistocene Ice Age) are basically innocuous, but others, such as the Bradford pear, can cause extensive damage to native ecosystems.  The Bradford pear is actually a cultivar of the species Pyrus calleryana, the Callery pear, which the United States Department of Agriculture introduced from Asia to the United States in 1916 to combat blight in the common pear, Pyrus communis.  (Obviously, common pears, along with other species that are used for food, largely benefit humans, so no one is suggesting that they should not be grown.)  Bradford pears are incapable of reproducing with other Bradford pears, but (as any fan of Jurassic Park would likely guess) this doesn’t stop them from proliferating; they just do it by cross pollinating with other calleryana cultivars, spreading this invasive species far and wide.  

One of several Callery/Bradford pears in the neighborhood.  Actually, this looks like it might be a "colony" instead of just one tree.

Chinese tallowtree, or popcorntree, is another common invasive.  Introduced to the U.S. in the 1700s, it is known for the waxy compounds found in its seeds, which have been used for candle- and soap-making Because the plants are toxic, few animals will eat them, so there is next to no biological control of their populations.  The USDA states that eradication is “virtually impossible,“ that the trees may begin reproducing at the age of only three years, and that they can continue breeding for 100 years– all of which make this species a particularly bad choice for North American naturescaping.  Don't grow it here!

The tallowtree tends to have a nice shape, which explains why it's so frequently planted.

Tallowtrees have heart-shaped leaves.  The seeds, which aren't in this summer photo, resemble popcorn.

In one sense, shrubs may be the stumpy cousins of trees, but their lushness more than compensates for that.  Along with tree saplings, shrubs comprise the understory layers in forest ecosystems.  However, invasive species, such as privet, don't always need to grow within wooded areas; they frequently thrive wherever their seeds have been dropped.  While several introduced privet species range across North America, the most common in the mid-southeastern region is Chinese privet.  There seems to be some conflicting information regarding when, exactly, Chinese privet was introduced to the United States—some sources say 1852, while others, including the previous link, say 1952.  The latter date might have been a typo, since the 1852 date shows up in sources such as the websites for the USDA, the University of Florida’s Center for Aquatic and Invasive Plants, and the Texas Invasive Species Institute.   

Chinese privet in the summer.

Privet leaves and unripe fruits.

At any rate, Chinese privet has become well established outside of its native range—so much that United States and regional noxious plant legislation isn’t even concerned with it and other privet species.  Eradicating privet from the U.S. is basically a lost cause.  Its fruits are eagerly consumed and widely spread by birds and other animals; it possesses tough, hardy, evergreen foliage; it forms extremely dense thickets; and, if cut, it regenerates quickly from its extensive underground root systems.  Several privet hedges in the neighborhood where I live have been cut before, but that didn't stop them from coming back with a vengeance.
  
A mockingbird and privet, photographed in Arkansas in 2013.  Birds are attracted to privet berries.

I have written about two bird nests—White-eyed Vireo and Northern Cardinal—that I observed in a thorny olive (or thorny elaeagnus) near the house.  The upper branches of thorny olives grow long and snake-like for the purpose of clinging to whatever is directly above them.  While this species—introduced in 1830 from Asia—lags behind privet in terms of invasiveness, it’s still a problem in many areas, forming spiky, impenetrable barriers.  There are a number of methods used to control thorny olives, but most of them are not particularly effective.  Essentially, even though the thorny olive does provide a certain amount of seclusion and protection for birds during the nesting season, there are much better options that don’t choke out all other vegetation in the ecosystem!

Long "tendrils" on the thorny olive.

The undersides of the thorny olive's leaves have silvery scales and sparse, tiny brown spots.

Another invasive shrub that can dramatically transform its environment is the multiflora rose (Rosa multiflora), a sometimes vinelike plant that was introduced from Asia to the U.S. in the 1860s.  Like kudzu, it was widely used for erosion control, and it also shares the ability to form impenetrable thickets.  Its thorny stems can attain heights of 10 to 15 feet, and it has attractive flowers that have five white petals with blunt or slightly indented tips.  Herbicides are effective at controlling multiflora rose, but follow-up treatments must be consistently applied to prevent germination of seeds, which can lie dormant, ready to sprout at any time, for up to 20 years in the soil.  

Multiflora rose flowers

We've looked at trees and shrubs, but what about vines?  One of the most out-of-control vines in the southeastern U.S. is so abundant that it has even had festivals created around it.  Kudzu (Pueraria montana) is a leafy, purple-flowered vine in the legume family.  Although it was originally imported to the U.S. (from Japan in 1876) as an ornamental, and was used for erosion control in the early 20th century, it has since become a noxious weed, infamous for covering entire landscapes and choking out native vegetation.  In ideal circumstances, it can grow up to a foot a day.  Controlling kudzu is difficult partly because of the stolons (or runners) that it produces, as well as rhizomes, or underground stems that produce roots and shoots; uprooting the plant so that it's incapable of forming new growth is next to impossible.  Herbicides can work if there is enough product to treat the many acres of ground that kudzu frequently smothers.

Kudzu creates odd, alien-looking landscapes.

Interestingly, one of the natural predators, the kudzu bug, was accidentally introduced into the U.S., with the first individuals recorded in Georgia in 2009.  However, because the kudzu bug tends to cause more damage to soybean crops than it does to kudzu, it can't be relied on as a biological control method.

Joining kudzu on the list of invasive vine species are two of the most widespread introduced legumes: Chinese and Japanese wisteria (Wisteria sinensis and W. floribunda, respectively).  Because these species can and do hybridize in the wild (rather like the red and black imported fire ant species), identification is often difficult.  Both species have long, compound leaves and clusters of purple or white flowers.  Given the toxicity of wisteria's fruits, native wildlife species are almost certainly not helping these plants to spread.  Instead, wisteria's quick growth and tendency to strangle and shade out native vegetation provide the explanation for its range expansion after its introduction to the U.S. in the early 19th century (1816 for Chinese wisteria, and about 1830 for the Japanese wisteria).  According to the Mississippi State University Extension Service, wisteria control is extremely difficult.

Wisteria flowers

Wisteria growing over another invasive: privet.

Another fairly horrifying invasive climbing plant is Japanese honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica).  Like all of the plants discussed thus far, Japanese honeysuckle was imported (in 1806) as an ornamental.  It has attractive and fragrant blossoms, and many people have fond childhood memories of sucking the nectar from these blooms.  Like wisteria, however, Japanese honeysuckle's thick, woody stems quickly strangle native vegetationand, as with kudzu, biological control doesn't work.  In fact, there is no available biological control for Japanese honeysuckle.

Japanese honeysuckle flowers

Because of the limited ecological benefits and the difficulty of controlling Japanese honeysuckle, the Mississippi Forestry Commission recommends planting several native vines, insteadincluding crossvine, coral honeysuckle, and Virginia creeper.  That site and others, such as the Mississippi State University Extension Service, are well worth perusing for detailed information about native trees, shrubs, vines, and herbaceous plants.

In general, all of the introduced trees, shrubs, and vines described in this post flourish in their new environments due, in part, to a lack of herbivory by insects.  Native insect species didn't evolve with these plants, so they generally lack the ability to effectively utilize them.  Many studies have shown that insect communities tend to decline in the presence of nonnative plants.  A paper written by Berghardt et al. (2010) and published in the scientific journal Ecosphere (https://esajournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1890/ES10-00032.1) describes how Lepidopteran (that is, butterfly and moth) communities showed both lower population sizes and less species diversity on nonnative plants than on native ones.  Given the fact that many songbird species rely on caterpillars as a food source for their nestlings, the results of this study should definitely ring some alarm bells.  Fewer caterpillars mean less leaf damage, but also impoverished ecosystems.

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Vegetative Invaders, Part I


In my last post, I mentioned that I had more to say about invasive plants.  Well, I had originally intended to write a more comprehensive piece on the vegetative invaders in the southeastern United States, but after looking at the long, long list of exotic plant species present in Mississippi alone (from this site: https://www.gri.msstate.edu/ipams/MSExotics.php), I decided to focus my attention on the invasive trees, shrubs, and vines that I commonly see in my part of the state.  This first post covers the trees and shrubs, and a later post will tackle the invasive vines.  Be sure to check out some of the links!

Let’s start with trees.  A couple of quick definitions: although there are some exceptions, the general rule is that trees have a single woody stem or trunk, while shrubs have multiple woody stems/trunks.  Most of the trees that I regularly observe are native to my area, but, every so often, I will come across an invasive species or two—especially near urban settings.  Some commonly-seen cultivated plants, such as the ginkgo (an ancient, “living fossil” species that was wiped out across much of its range during the Pleistocene Ice Age) are basically innocuous, but others, such as the Bradford pear, can cause extensive damage to native ecosystems.  The Bradford pear is actually a cultivar of the species Pyrus calleryana, the Callery pear, which the United States Department of Agriculture introduced from Asia to the United States in 1916 (https://www.invasive.org/alien/pubs/midatlantic/pyca.htm) to combat blight in the common pear, Pyrus communis.  (Obviously, common pears, along with other species that are used for food, largely benefit humans, so no one is suggesting that they should not be grown.)  Bradford pears are incapable of reproducing with other Bradford pears, but (as any fan of Jurassic Park would likely guess) this doesn’t stop them from proliferating; they just do it by cross pollinating with other calleryana cultivars, spreading this invasive species far and wide.  
One of several Callery/Bradford pears in the neighborhood.  Actually, this looks like it might be a "colony" instead of just one tree.
Chinese tallowtree, or popcorntree, is another common invasive.  Introduced to the U.S. in 1850 (http://www.gri.msstate.edu/ipams/species.php?SName=Triadica%20sebifera), it is known for the waxy compounds found in its seeds, which have been used for candle- and soap-making (https://plants.usda.gov/plantguide/pdf/pg_trse6.pdf).  Because the plants are toxic, few animals will eat them, so there is next to no biological control of their populations.  The USDA states that eradication is “virtually impossible,“ that the trees may begin reproducing at the age of only three years, and that they can continue breeding for 100 years (https://plants.usda.gov/plantguide/pdf/pg_trse6.pdf)– all of which make this species a particularly bad choice for North American naturescaping.  Don't grow it here!

The tallowtree tends to have a nice shape, which explains why it's so frequently planted.
Tallowtrees have heart-shaped leaves.  The seeds, which aren't in this summer photo, resemble popcorn.
In one sense, shrubs may be the stumpier cousins of trees, but their lushness more than compensates for that.  Along with tree saplings, shrubs comprise the understory layers in forest ecosystems.  However, invasive species, such as privet, don't always need to grow within wooded areas; they frequently thrive wherever their seeds have been dropped.  While several introduced privet species range across North America, the most common in the mid-southeastern region (see http://www.gri.msstate.edu/ipams/species.php?SName=Ligustrum%20sinense) is Chinese privet.  There seems to be some conflicting information regarding when, exactly, Chinese privet was introduced to the United States—some sources say 1852, while others, including the previous link, say 1952.  The latter date might have been a typo, since the 1852 date shows up in sources such as the websites for the USDA (https://plants.usda.gov/plantguide/pdf/pg_lisi.pdf), the University of Florida’s Center for Aquatic and Invasive Plants (https://plants.ifas.ufl.edu/plant-directory/ligustrum-sinense/), and the Texas Invasive Species Institute (http://www.tsusinvasives.org/home/database/ligustrum-sinense).   

Chinese privet in the summer.
Privet leaves and unripe fruits.
At any rate, Chinese privet has become well established outside of its native range—so much that United States and regional noxious plant legislation isn’t even concerned with it and other privet species (http://www.gri.msstate.edu/ipams/species.php?SName=Ligustrum%20sinense).  Eradicating privet from the U.S. is basically a lost cause.  Its fruits are eagerly consumed and widely spread by birds and other animals; it possesses tough, hardy, evergreen foliage; it forms extremely dense thickets; and, if cut, it regenerates quickly from its extensive underground root systems.  Several privet hedges in the neighborhood where I live have been cut before, but that didn't stop them from coming back with a vengeance.  
A mockingbird and privet, photographed in Arkansas in 2013.  Birds are attracted to privet berries.
I have written about two bird nests—White-eyed Vireo and Northern Cardinal—that I observed in a thorny olive (or thorny elaeagnus) near the house.  As I mentioned in the Northern Cardinal post, the upper branches of thorny olives grow long and snake-like for the purpose of clinging to whatever is directly above them.  While this species—introduced in 1830 from Asia (https://www.fs.fed.us/database/feis/plants/shrub/elapun/all.html)—lags behind privet in terms of invasiveness, it’s still a problem in many areas, forming spiky, impenetrable barriers.  The website for the Geosystems Research Institute at Mississippi State University lists a number of methods used to control thorny olives (https://www.gri.msstate.edu/ipams/FactSheets/Thorny_olive.pdf), but describes these as “difficult,” “labor intensive,” “slow,” etc.  Essentially, even though the thorny olive does provide a certain amount of seclusion and protection for birds during the nesting season, there are much better options that don’t choke out all other vegetation in the ecosystem!

Long "tendrils" on the thorny olive.
The undersides of the thorny olive's leaves have silvery scales and sparse, tiny brown spots.
In general, all of these introduced shrubs and trees flourish in their new environments due, in part, to a lack of herbivory by insects.  Native insect species didn't evolve with these plants, so they generally lack the ability to effectively utilize them.  Many studies have shown that insect communities tend to decline in the presence of nonnative plants.  A paper written by Berghardt et al. (2010) and published in the scientific journal Ecosphere (https://esajournals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1890/ES10-00032.1) describes how Lepidopteran (that is, butterfly and moth) communities showed both lower population sizes and less species diversity on nonnative plants than on native ones.  Given the fact that many songbird species rely on caterpillars as a food source for their nestlings, the results of this study should definitely ring some alarm bells.  Fewer caterpillars mean less leaf damage, but also impoverished ecosystems.

Monday, June 25, 2018

A Northern Cardinal Nest

Female Northern Cardinal in Arkansas, November 5, 2013.
Male -- also November 5, 2013, in Arkansas.

If you live in eastern or central North America and spend any time outside, chances are good that you’re familiar with the Northern Cardinal.  Cardinals are so common, in fact, that I confess I tend not to pay them much attention—especially if there are more unusual birds nearby.  But a couple of summers ago, a pair of these birds nested in the thorny elaeagnus shrub near the house, right outside the living room window.  Naturally, I had to pay attention to that!

The cardinals began nesting in the thorny elaeagnus shrub right around the time that the White-eyed Vireos that I wrote about previously were nearly fledged.  I first noticed the female cardinal carrying twigs in her bill to the nest site, which was a few feet higher in the shrub than the vireos’ nest had been.  This was typical behavior.  Female cardinals construct the nests and incubate the eggs, while males bring food to the females during incubation and assist in feeding the young after they hatch.  

As you can see, cardinals build their nests on top of limbs, unlike vireos, which suspend theirs from forks in the branches.  Whenever the female cardinal added new material to the nest, she bent it with her bill and pushed it into a cup shape with her feet.  The outside layers were constructed from twigs, bark, and leaves, while finer materials, such as grasses and pine needles, formed the lining.
June 19, 2016 -- Cardinal building the nest!
Checking early-stage nests too frequently can lead to the parent birds abandoning the site, so I was cautious about getting photos at that point.  By June 28, there were two eggs in the nest, but, since I had been avoiding the nest, I assumed that they had probably been there for two or three days.  Cardinals lay anywhere from one to five eggs, with two to three being more typical.

According to Birds of North America Online, incubation takes 11-13 days.  The eggs were definitely hatched on or before July 7, when I photographed the slightly downy nestlings for the first time.

By July 11, the young birds were much larger and more heavily feathered.  You can see how their bills are starting to turn dark, a characteristic of juvenile cardinals.  Their beak color doesn’t change to red or red-orange until late in the fall.

July 11, 2016
On July 14, the nestlings were nearly ready to fledge.  Although it’s difficult to determine exactly how heavily feathered the average dinosaur might have been, this is what I tend to imagine juvenile dinos looking like.  (On the anatomical level, though, modern birds and the dinosaurs from which they evolved differ very little—so I’d guess that quite a lot of dinosaurs may have had full plumage.)

July 14, 2016
I think that these cardinals fledged on July 15 or 16.  Fledging usually occurs after about nine or ten days, so this estimate seems reasonable.  You can just barely make out one of the nestlings in the center of the photo below.  That photo was from July 15, and the one of the empty nest was taken the next day.  This might have been the second brood of the year from these nonmigratory birds, but I can’t say for certain.

July 15, 2016 -- at least one young cardinal still on the nest

July 16, 2016
This cardinal nest and the young in it were from two summers ago.  There haven’t been any birds nesting in the thorny elaeagnus (or thorny olive) this year, though, since it’s only a bit above waist height at the moment.  A recent windstorm damaged the shrub, causing it to lean heavily to one side, so we pruned it.  It’s a more manageable height now, with no long shoots threatening to grow over the roof (see photo below).  In its native range in Asia, this species often “climbs” by entwining its upper branches with the limbs of the trees above it.  Although I miss being able to see birds nesting so close to the house, I don’t bemoan the fate of the thorny olive.  I intend to elaborate a little on invasive plants—including this species—in a future post.
June 22, 2016