Monthly Archives: May 2009

Today at Kingsford – Black Rat Snake(s?)

Black Rat Snake

Our landlord was up at the house today to take care of some yard work, so for Raven’s daily exercise I clipped on her leash and headed up the road. I haven’t been doing that as much since the forest has leafed out and all the birds have returned, since there’s only so much exercise I can give her through walking on a leash, but today I decided to walk down the next road to the neighbouring lake, where I could toss a stick in for her a few times.

It turned out to be a fortuitous decision, because just as we were starting down the last hill before reaching the lake, we discovered this beauty of a Black Rat Snake sunning on the road. At least four feet long, and a good inch and a half thick, it was the largest rat snake I’ve seen so far (admittedly, this is not a difficult accomplishment, as I could count the total number I’ve seen on one hand).

Black Rat Snake

More than other snakes I encounter here in the woods of southern Ontario, Black Rat Snakes have that predatory look to their eye, that fierce glance that one sees in the faces of other carnivores such as hawks and wolves.

Look at the longitudinal muscles running along the sides of his spine – you can see them flexed where his “neck” curves. Snakes are practically all muscle, strong, used to help the creature move across the ground in the absence of legs (and, in the case of some, to suffocate and kill prey in the absence of claws).

Snake skin

By complete coincidence, a few hundred yards beyond the rat snake we discovered this old snake carcass lying at the side of the road. At first I thought it was a shed skin, but as I drew closer I could see the bones sticking out from the dried flesh. I’m not sure of the cause of death; it could have been a roadkill that has been picked over by scavengers and dried out in the sun, or it may be a hawk kill, quite possible the meal of one of the Red-shouldered Hawks in the area. I’m leaning toward the latter, mostly because the head and the tail remained intact, although I must admit I don’t know whether hawks just tear the flesh off of snakes, or if they eat them whole, but in bits.

Snake skin

Check out all those ribs. I’m surprised they’re still as intact as they are. The average vertebrate – you, your dog, the robin on your lawn – has a dozen or two pairs of ribs (the number varies by species; humans have 12 pairs, dogs have 13, horses have 18) attached to the thoracic vertebrae of the back, along with cervical (neck), lumbar (lower back) and caudal (tail) vertebrae that make up the rest of the spine. In snakes, the number of cervical, lumbar and caudal vertebrae are reduced, and the number of thoracic vertebrae greatly increased – some of the longest snakes may have upwards of 300 thoracic vertebrae, each with a pair of ribs attached. One particular gene complex, called the Hox genes, controls which type of vertebrae each segment becomes, depending on which ones are switched on in which segment. They also are involved in the development (or lack thereof) of legs.

I’d planned to do a bit more poking around the ‘net for more information on the eating habits of hawks, and developmental biology of snakes, but we seem to have exceeded our download limit for the day (we’re on satellite internet, which has the disadvantage of having a bandwidth quota), and the connection is reduced to slower-than-dialup speed, so the questions will have to wait for another day.

Leaving behind childhood

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Despite living on a lake, I don’t make it down to the water every day, depending on what I’m up to and where I take Raven out for exercise. A few days ago I decided just to take her down to the water to swim, rather than walking her down the road. As I was standing there, waiting for her to retrieve a stick, I noticed the dry husk of a dragonfly nymph’s exoskeleton. In the last few days there’s been dozens upon dozens of dragonflies, skimmers and baskettails and clubtails and even a couple of darners, swirling through the air above our driveway and lawn. It seemed that there was a big emergence just recently, producing all these adults now on the wing. I presumed this exoskeleton to belong to one of them, and looked around to see if I could spot anymore.

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Could I ever! At first it was just one, then two. Then a couple more. Then three in one spot. The more I looked, the more I saw. There were dozens upon dozens of exoskeletons clinging to the cattails, the dogwoods, the grasses and tree leaves and shrubs and dock. Dozens and dozens of nymphs creating dozens and dozens of dragonflies. Most were medium-sized and were probably baskettails, but I saw a few larger ones, and also a few small ones that belonged to their cousin species the damselflies.

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Dragonflies and damselflies spend anywhere from one month to five years as a nymph, living in the mud and vegetation of lake and pond bottoms, and moulting a dozen or more times as they grow. Once they’re large enough, they climb out of the water and up onto a tall piece of vegetation or other structure. There, they dig in their claws to ensure a firm grip, and then begin shrugging off their skin. Like cicadas, which I watched emerge last summer, they have an incomplete metamorphosis, meaning that the adult insect emerges directly from the exoskeleton of the nymph, without an intermediate stage as a pupa.

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dragonfly nymph husks on basswood leaves

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As I was poking around the shore, checking out all of the discarded exoskeletons, I heard a rustling. Following the sound, I discovered this dragonfly, still clinging to the reed next to an empty shell. One wing was crimped, and it couldn’t fly. It may have emerged in tight quarters where its wing didn’t have room to expand as it dried, or it may be that its wing got caught in the exoskeleton as it was emerging, and dried at a funny angle. Regardless of the cause, life was done for this unfortunate dragonfly – if it can’t fly, it’s unable to either catch food or mate.

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The bee-tree

Basswood leaves

Back in the winter, I mentioned that my favourite evergreen tree was the White Pine. It might actually be my favourite tree period; certainly when I walk through a place it’s the only species that I always take notice of and remark upon, breathing deeply of the delicious piney scent , and the one species that’s on my wishlist for a home. However, my second-favourite tree, and my favourite deciduous species, is the basswood, Tilia americana. I’m not sure what it is that appeals to me so about it; perhaps it’s the oversized leaves, which look like something that belongs in a tropical rainforest down near the equator, not growing in a temperate forest in Canada.

There are some 30 species of Tilia, all found in the northern hemisphere, but only the one, Tilia americana, grows in Canada. There are an additional five or six found in the US. The entire genus is usually labeled basswood in North America, but because of its unique status in Canada as the sole representative of its group, T. americana gets the designation Basswood, as in the basswood, here. It is sometimes also called American Basswood, American Linden, or Lime-tree. The latter two (linden and lime) are names more commonly used in Europe for members of the genus. I get the impression that here in North America the use of linden is mostly restricted to urban plantings or nursery stock.

Basswood leaves

As I mentioned, the leaves of this species can grow to huge sizes. The one shown here is probably 6 inches (15 cm) wide and 7 inches (17.5 cm) long, but it is somewhat exceptional. The average size of leaves is usually only about 4.5 inches wide, although as with all trees measurements vary greatly from one leaf to the next. Here in Ontario I can’t think of another species, at least that occurs regularly in the province, whose leaves achieve such sizes (unless you consider compound leaves for their whole leaf and not the individual leaflets). Sycamore or some of the oaks might come the closest, or perhaps pawpaw, which occurs in the far southwest of the province but not in any of the areas I’ve ever lived. Of course, for really big leaves in Canada the Bigleaf Maple is unrivaled, with leaves reaching 12 inches (30 cm) across. They’re only found in BC, though.

Basswood

The trees are usually medium-sized, growing up to 60-70 feet (18-21m) tall, and reaching perhaps 2 feet (60 cm) in diameter, although there are unusual individuals that do get larger than this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a basswood that’s reached 2 feet in diameter, however; most of the ones I’m used to seeing are less than half a foot, relatively small trees by forest standards. Some of the largest basswoods I’ve seen are growing here on our property in the Frontenac Axis.

Basswood

For instance, the tree on the right, a basswood, is probably a foot in diameter. Although the trees start out with smoothish bark when young, as they age the bark furrows into ridges. The tree behind and to the left is an ash of indeterminate species (the ashes are always so tricky to tell apart). I’ve always considered these deeply-furrowed trunks to be ashes, but I won’t be able to so blithely label these winter trees as such anymore, having seen these older basswood.

Basswood

This is more typical of a younger basswood. The inner layers of younger bark is fairly supple and will peel away from recently dead wood in long fibrous strips. If peeled carefully, it’s possible to get long, thin tendrils that can be woven into very sturdy bark fiber ropes. Native Americans used the basswood as one of their primary sources for rope fibers. Once dry, the fibers can be wrapped carefully into a very strong piece of cord and used either as a tie, for fishing, or in weaving.

Basswood

Basswood have deep, wide-spreading root systems that provide strong support and nutrients. They are one of a few species that are capable of regenerating from stumps if the tree is knocked or cut down. This may result in shrub-like clumps or in several mature trees clustered tightly together. The tree doesn’t necessarily need to be cut for sucker saplings to start growing from the base, however, particularly in areas where the tree is getting a lot of light. Our landlord, a couple years before we moved in, had thinned out the forest in front of the house to better improve the view of the water, which means the trees that remain there are now receiving much more light than they did when the forest was intact.

Basswood

They have one of the softest and lightest woods of Canadian hardwoods, and are as such a favourite for various carving and furniture projects. It has virtually no knots or grain, which may or may not be ideal depending on what you want of the finished product (for instance, the lack of grain means that when stained they don’t show much of a wood pattern).

Flowers are produced relatively late, for a tree, appearing mid-summer in July. They are extremely popular with pollinators such as bees (leading to the colloquial name of “bee-tree”), and you can buy basswood honey made almost exclusively from the pollen of these trees. One online store describes basswood honey as “delicate and mild, and has warm herbal notes and a clean finish.” Sounds like they could be describing a wine. I don’t eat honey much, but I would be intrigued to try it (or some other non-traditional types) if I stumbled across some.

Tuesday Miscellany

Kingsford Lake

I’m a day late with my weekly miscellaneous wrap-up. We had some internet issues yesterday that took most of the day to sort out, which prevented me from doing anything online. It’s somewhat eye-opening to see just how much time is spent on the internet – or how much one relies on it for reference – by way of how inconvenienced one is when it’s no longer available.

The forest has completely greened up over the last few weeks, and the landscape around here is very much beginning to resemble the high-summer state that we first saw it in when we arrived last summer. It’s beginning to look like we’ll be moving at the beginning of July, not quite a month shy of the date we moved in last year. I have to admit, I am really going to miss being on the water. This house has spoiled me, and despite having spent the first 96% of my life not on waterfront, I suddenly feel like I can’t bear to move away from it. However, our prospective new house reminds me a lot of where I grew up, and I’m sure I’ll feel right at home there, too, once we’re moved and settled.

Blue-eyed Grass

Our landlord came by this afternoon to mow the lawn, which Dan and I had been dutifully ignoring. We have no lawnmower, in part because we both prefer to have long-grassed “meadows” rather than lawns, which are much more beneficial to wildlife. I personally think they’re more interesting to look at than a mowed lawn, too. However, long grass does have a certain unkempt feel that can put off many prospective house-buyers. I was a bit sad to see it mowed, because the wildflowers in it were just starting to appear and bloom. One of the first to come out were these Blue-eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium) flowers. If everyone’s lawn turned into these when left to grow, do you think anyone would mow it?

Johnny Jump-ups

Our neighbour up the lake started some seeds indoors this winter, and was extremely generous, sharing some of her extras with me for my “garden”. Among the plants she gave me were these johnny jump-ups, members of the violet family (the common name has been applied to a number of species, but I think these are probably Viola tricolor). They’re just beginning to bloom, the first one opened yesterday. As I was inspecting the plants one day earlier this week, something caught my eye. Can you see it?

Lepidopteran eggs

It’s a cluster of small, pale green eggs. I assume these are lepidopteran eggs, but what species, or even whether moth or butterfly, I don’t know. There are a few species that feed on violets as caterpillars – several species of fritillary target violets exclusively, for instance, or the Giant Leopard Moth which we saw caterpillars of around here last fall. I’m planning to let them hatch, and then when the caterpillars come out moving them into another container with some violet leaves and seeing if they’ll eat those. If so, I’ll try to raise them that way; if not, I guess I’ll reluctantly give them back (some of) my johnny jump-ups. Hopefully the plants will have grown up a bit more by then.

Goldenrod Crab Spider, Misumena vatia

I spotted this Goldenrod Crab Spider, Misumena vatia, “hiding” out among the flowers of my Allium. It was so well hidden, it immediately caught my eye when I looked at the flowers (as I do every day to admire them). I’m not sure she was having any luck in catching anything, as I never saw her with a meal… but given that she doesn’t make a web, perhaps she ate at other times of the day.

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Speaking of eating… Last weekend I bought some Japanese Lanterns, Physalis alkekengi, perennials that produce really neat orange “paper” seed pods in the fall. I remember, growing up, my mom used to have a patch that we’d sometimes collect the “lanterns” from for flower arrangements. I always really liked them, so when I stumbled across them in the nursery I couldn’t resist buying a pack. When I got home I planted them into a nice big pot and set them in the sun. As I do with all my plants, every day I’d check on them to see how they were doing. A few days ago I noticed they had been found by a few beetles, who were sitting in a nook in the leaves. I didn’t think much of it, until yesterday I noticed that holes were starting to appear in the leaves. Hey! Those are my plants! Sure enough, it turns out the beetles (left) are Three-lined Potato Beetles, Lema daturaphila. They favour plants in the family Solanaceae. And guess what family Japanese Lanterns belong to? I’m debating whether to just let them munch, or to try to remove them (repeatedly; I assume they’ll return). So far the damage seems to be restricted to just a couple of leaves on a couple of plants.

With him is a Clavate Tortoise Beetle, Plagiometriona clavata. There are also two of these on my little plants. They also eat plants of the Solanaceae. Now it’s starting to get a bit crowded…

Chestnut-sided Warbler

This morning Dan and I went out to do a bit of final site scouting for the first of our three MAPS stations, Hemlock Lake. Although it wasn’t strictly necessary for me to tag along (I won’t really be “needed” until the actual banding begins, whereupon you really need two people in order to operate efficiently and safely), I chose to come so I could help out a bit, but also so that I could do a bit of early-morning birding. I so rarely get up at dawn these days, by the time I’m awake and going, the birdsong is starting to slow down for the day. I take Raven out later in the afternoon usually, hardly the best time of day for birding.

It turned out to be an unusually quiet morning, possibly because it was also a rather cool morning by recent standards. However, we did still encounter a good variety of nice species, including the Chestnut-sided Warbler, above, and the Northern Waterthrush, below, both of whom will be breeding at the site this summer. Who knows, in a few weeks these guys may even be sporting a shiny new band.

Northern Waterthrush

How does my garden grow?

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Essentially since I moved out of my parents’ home to go to university I’ve been wanting a garden of my own. At one apartment I was able to dabble a little in a small raised bed that ran the length of the sidewalk leading to the side door, our apartment’s private entrance, but aside from that I’ve never really had the outdoor space available to me to do any gardening. In Toronto, I didn’t even have a balcony where I could set some pots. Ten years I’ve been itching to plant a garden, and with our move to the country, I expected I would finally have a chance.

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Unfortunately, the landlord listing the house has thrown a wrench in our plans, and I haven’t wanted to commit to planting anything just to have the house sell a few weeks later. I would be too attached to my plants to leave anything behind, but I wouldn’t want for the plants to get settled only to have me dig them up again.

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To get around this, virtually everything is in pots. Aside from half a dozen plants that I brought back from my parents’ old house in Halton, which went into the ground, everything else has been placed in plastic pots of various sizes. When I actually sat down and counted them this afternoon, I was astounded to discover I have 45 pots sitting in my “garden”. Plus another dozen that are in the ground. Where did I get all these plants?

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This should reveal a little about me: I’m a hopeless plant addict. I also have 20 potted plants indoors, about as far as I’ve wanted to try pushing Dan’s tolerance (he also has a couple of indoor plants, but emphasis on couple). There’s just something extremely satisfying about caring for a plant and watching it flourish and bloom under your care. And then, there’s also just something about a plant.

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Although I’m up well over 60 plants in my outdoor garden, despite the fact that I’ve been trying to keep things small with the expectation of moving this summer, I just can’t help myself. There are dozens more that I left on the nursery’s shelves in an effort to exercise some “restraint”. But you can be sure that they’ll find a spot in the garden once we’re settled in at our next house…

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