Monthly Archives: May 2010

Where there’s smoke

Sunrise over Ottawa River

There was a lovely sunrise this morning, one of those that are nicely accented by clouds, with the rays cutting through the thin water vapour at the edges to be visible. After the nets were opened I grabbed my camera and wandered to the water’s edge to take a photo.

An hour later, as we stepped out of the banding lab to start a check of the nets, we could smell smoke. It had a very woody scent, like a campfire or a wood stove at home. We couldn’t see anything, however, and I assumed it to be a house fire nearby, or perhaps the military was burning brush somewhere else on the base.

It did cross my mind, however, that the conditions today were perfect for a forest fire. Moderately strong winds of 20+ km/h (12+ mph) were blowing east across the water to us, and our lack of winter snow and spring rain, as well as the hot days we had last week, would result in a very dry landscape. All it would need would be a single spark to set off the initial flame, and the winds would have it fanned up and spreading quickly in no time.

Smoke from Quebec forest fires

Within an hour of when we first detected it, the smoke had begun to obscure the far shore of the Ottawa River. By an hour after that, we could no longer see the other side. Looking out on the water we could almost have been on one of the Great Lakes, with the water stretching to the horizon and disappearing before land was again reached.

Smoke from Quebec forest fires

Having no internet connection, but concerned about the proximity of the fire, the smoke of which was more and more beginning to resemble that of a forest fire, we turned to the radio. We flipped between channels, trying to find any updates, but few stations made mention of it. Finally, we caught one station that had called someone associated with a forest conservation NGO who indicated that some 52 fires were currently burning in southern Quebec, of which 8 of them were out of control, fanned on by the winds as I’d suspected.

Smoke from Quebec forest fires

The strong eastern winds of this morning pushed the smoke from southern Quebec into Ottawa and eastern Ontario. Though the largest fires, and the ones they’re blaming for today’s smoke, are burning some 350 km (218 mi) northeast of Ottawa, the smoke was still quite thick, and pushed on even farther. You could see it in the air when I got home to Perth this afternoon, an additional 85 km (53 mi) west of Ottawa. Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont all also received some of the smoke, apparently, with traces of it making it as far as Massachusetts. It would be interesting to get a satellite image of the area, showing the haze of smoke across the region.

Forest fires aren’t unusual in the boreal forest of northern Ontario or Quebec, but their frequency has definitely been reduced from natural rates, meaning that those that do happen are often harder to control. Still, forest fires themselves almost never affect populated areas of Ontario south of the Canadian Shield, and even the smoke rarely seems to reach anywhere where it’d have a large impact.

On the drive home, someone with Environment Canada was interviewed on the radio about forest fires here in the east. He indicated that we seem to flip-flop forest fire seasons with BC. In years where they have bad fires, we tend not to, and vice versa. The last two years have been BC’s seasons; this year looks to be ours. They’re blaming lightning strikes for the vast majority of the fires burning right now: some 9,000 strikes were recorded just last night; over the long weekend as a whole, 44,000 strikes were recorded. Most of these will hit trees or other grounding objects and won’t develop into anything, but some that hit dead wood or grassy areas or similar situations may end up triggering a fire.

Smoggy haze from smoke from Quebec forest fires

The smoke hangs so thick over the ground that from a distance it looks like the muddy haze of smog, a sight I’m familiar with from having lived and worked in Toronto, but which seems somewhat out of place in a setting such as this. Air quality advisories were issued to residents, though mostly the people affected were those with breathing difficulties to begin with.

They anticipated that shifting winds would clear the smoke out from the area by late today and things would return to normal in the Ottawa region. I doubt the fires will be extinguished nearly that quickly, however, and many thousands of hectares will burn. In discussing the impact of the fires with Dan this afternoon, he indicated that these days he gets excited when he hears about forest fires, for the same reason I do, though we came to it by different revelations: the new successional habitat that grows up in the burned-over landscapes is amazing for birds.

Prairie Warbler by Scott A. Young on Flickr; borrowed through Creative Commons licence

My perception of this was formed after spending a summer working in southeastern Ohio on a PhD student’s project examining clear-cut usage by birds. Both shrubland and forest birds would bring their youngsters into the regenerating clear-cuts after fledging from the nests. There were days there where we could catch more birds in four hours from just nine nets than we’ve caught in a single six-hour morning during spring migration at Innis running 24 nets. Birds loved those clear-cuts. It forever changed my opinion of the practice.

In Dan’s case, he’s observed in Frontenac Provincial Park populations of scrub and field species, including one of Ontario’s few remaining Prairie Warbler colonies, existing almost exclusively in scrubby, rocky habitat that was created as a result of a couple of fires that burned over the area several decades ago, exposing the topsoil to sufficient erosion that regeneration has been very slow.

It’s not all bad. Not by a long-shot.

Groundhog day

groundhog

One morning about a week ago, this groundhog spent a few hours hanging around close to the banding lab at Innis Point. We’d seen him, or we presume it was the same individual, once or twice a little farther out though still in the same general area, but this was the first time we’d noticed it so close to the buildings. One of my interns spotted him first, and pointed him out, and after watching him a few moments I went to get my camera. I sidled slooowly up toward him, and while he seemed alert and watchful, he didn’t seem overly nervous. He retreated to his burrow only once, and popped his head out again nearly immediately. When I paused and stood still, waiting for him, he eventually decided perhaps I was no threat after all, and came out to rest at the edge of his hole again. Through slow, non-threatening movements I was able to get within seven or eight feet of him. He remained there after I turned and slowly walked away again. I love encounters like that with wildlife.

groundhog

That was the only time we’ve seen the groundhog at this burrow entrance, but that’s not to say he’s not still around in the area. A groundhog’s burrow may be fairly extensive, with up to five entrances from different directions, and 14 m (46 ft) of tunnels connecting to it. The entrance near our buildings may not be a favoured one. Burrows serve the dual purpose of sleeping and family-raising. They may use the burrow for hibernation, as well, or build a new one used expressly for that purpose; in either case, the burrow used for hibernation is dug deep enough to be below the frost line, where the soil remains above freezing through even the coldest months. Some may be as much as 1.5 m (5 ft) below the surface.

groundhog

For the most part, except for the purposes of mating groundhogs are solitary animals. While the male keeps the female company during her month-long gestation period, he leaves before the young are born and she raises the pups by herself. The young are born in April or early May, which was about the time we started noticing this one around. I’m not sure if it’s a male or a female, as I admit I haven’t been able to get a good look at its back end.

groundhog

The most famous groundhogs, of course, are those used in predicting the return of spring: Punxsutawney Phil and Ontario’s own Wiarton Willie. The original Wiarton Willie was an albino groundhog who lived in the town till the ripe old age of 22; he died during hibernation one winter. His successors have also been albinos. The first died at just six years, and while his death was attributed to an infection, six years is probably a more typical lifespan for a groundhog. Wild animals live on average about two to three years, with lucky or wily animals perhaps reaching six or more years before slowing reflexes, aging immune system, or other health problems finally catch up with them.

groundhog yawning

He was pretty comfortable with us there – so much so, that while I stood watching he stretched out one paw, flexing the little fingers, and yawned. I’m not sure whether this groundhog’s relaxed attitude will prove a good thing (conserve energy/metabolism) or bad (slow to retreat may result in being caught). In the weeks I’ve been there, though, we’ve yet to see a predator that would be a threat to a groundhog, so at the very least he seems to have chosen a good place to call home.

May Odonates

River Jewelwing, Calopteryx aequabilis

Sometime last week Dan returned from an outing with Raven to our little pond, saying he’d observed River Jewelwings there. We were both familiar with Ebony Jewelwings, the iridescent green-blue damselflies with all-black wings. River Jewelwings are a close relative, but only the outer half of their wings are black. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Dan’s observation skills – in many situations he’s far better than myself – but I’ve never seen River Jewelwings, despite having watched for them. Also, what were they doing at our tiny little human-made pond, instead of out along the banks of, say, an actual river? Dan offered to take me back to point out something else he’d found on the same outing (a future post subject – he’s great about finding blog fodder, it’s like having a second set of eyes out there) and we carried on to check out the jewelwings, too.

And yes, they really were River Jewelwings. Delighted, I snapped a few photos before trying to get a bit closer, whereupon they promptly moved down the bank to an area surrounded by brambles. This one’s a male; females look nearly identical, but show a white rectangle (“stigma”) right near the tips of the wings. They’re a widespread species, absent from the far north and deep south of North America, but present nearly coast to coast within the middle band. The Stokes’ Beginner’s Guide to Dragonflies, which has a decent damselfly section as well, indicates that their habitat is “A variety of streams and rivers, especially swift and somewhat rocky streams.” Our little pond couldn’t get much farther from a swift and rocky stream without actually drying up altogether. Baffling. But I wasn’t complaining.

Bluet, possibly Northern or Boreal female

While I was standing there, hopefully waiting in case the jewelwings might come back within lens-reach again, a couple of other odonates settled on the vegetation in front of me. The first was another damselfly, this one a type of bluet. While most of the bluets are blue, not all of them are (some are black, a few are yellow or red; likewise, not all blue damselflies are bluets). In the case of this one, its predominantly black body bore only narrow blue rings around the base of each segment. Unusual among bluets is the fact that the two terminal segments of the abdomen were black, rather than blue. I thought this would make for a slam-dunk identification, but I struggled quite a bit more with it than I thought I would. Bluet identification often requires the examination of their external genitalia, which on an organism this small would require a magnifying glass or a good macro lens (and a cooperative subject). That said, I think this one is possibly a female of either Northern or Boreal Bluet, based on similar photos on BugGuide.net.
Frosted Whiteface (Leucorrhinia frigida)
Finally, a dragonfly, the chunkier members of the order Odonata. I browsed through both my dragonfly guides, as well as BugGuide, and drew a blank on an ID so I ended up uploading it to BugGuide to have someone else identify it for me. As always, I got a very prompt response, this one suggesting that it was likely a Frosted Whiteface, Leucorrhinia frigida. The species is found throughout the northeast, and appears to be relatively common. My Dragonflies Through Binoculars notes that the male’s thorax starts out yellow and becomes brown with age, and the dark abdomen gradually gets the white frosting at the base that gives the species its name. Their photo doesn’t show any yellow and I presume it’s an older male, while mine appears to be a younger one, which would be why I didn’t see it in the book when I looked. The book mentions that males defend territories of just 1-2 square yards from their preferred perch near the shore. It indicates that males mature (after crawling out of their larval skin) in four days, but doesn’t give any numbers for how long one might live (and defend his territory). I’ll have to look to see if he’s still hanging around in the same spot when I’m next back there.

Seabrooke’s Bookshelf – Tracks & Sign of Insects

I haven’t ever done a book review here on the blog. I’m not exactly sure why… perhaps it just hadn’t ever occurred to me. My bookshelves are full of review-worthy books, though, and I’ve been toying with including a semi-regular feature called “Seabrooke’s Bookshelf” wherein I share books I own or have read, and which I think my readers might be interested in themselves. Today’s the first installment; how frequently I post future items will be up to my whims.

I was inspired to start because of this book: Tracks & Sign of Insects and Other Invertebrates: A Guide to North American Species by Charley Eiseman and Noah Charney. The book has been on my radar for about a year or so; I’d submitted a photo of a mummified caterpillar to BugGuide.net, which Charley Eiseman was patrolling. He commented, explaining what it was, and then sent me a note inquiring into the moth guide (which I have included in my profile) and mentioning his own book. This April his book was released. I had a gift certificate I’d been holding onto since Christmas, and I’d been intrigued enough by his note to want to get myself a copy. I ordered it (along with the DVD of Avatar, released about the same time) for myself for my birthday.

Charley Eiseman commented on the sawfly cocoons I uploaded to BugGuide, identifying them for me and pointing out that some had been parasitized. That'd been the only way to get an ID before - now I just need to flip to page 232, and there they are! (Right-click and choose 'view image' to see a larger version.)

I had expected a good book, and knew that it was going to be informative simply because it’s the first book to treat signs of insects and not just insects themselves. But the book exceeded my expectations: it’s excellent. It’s more of an information guide than a field guide; the references are in chapter/section/paragraph format rather than the plate-opposite-text format found in most field guides. This allows them to go into more detail than just captioning photos would. The book is stuffed with full-colour photographs, many taken by the authors during a 15,000 mile, 40-day road trip they undertook for the purpose, but quite a few of the photos were collected from other amateur and professional entomologists, including several names that I recognize from BugGuide.

The text is information-rich and easy to read, organized logically under headings and sub-headings. The various categories of insect sign are organized under broad chapter headings such as “Eggs and Egg Cases”, “Leaf Mines”, “Galls”, “Sign on Twigs, Stems and Stem-like Structures”, etc. Eighteen chapters treat everything from exuviae (shed exoskeleton of the moult from nymph to adult) of dragonflies and the like, to the scrapings left by a snail’s “teeth” as it forages, to the folded-over leaves many caterpillars and other insects use for shelter, to the various burrows some insects make in the sand.

If only I'd had this reference a couple of years ago, I could have saved myself several hours of fruitless searching of Google simply by flipping to page 406. (Right-click and choose 'view image' to see a larger version.)

There have been many instances in the past couple of years, doing blog posts about interesting insect signs that I’ve run across, that I could have benefited greatly from this book. Although it would be impossible for the book to cover every sign presented by every species in North America, it covers enough ground to at the very least help set you on the right track even if it doesn’t have exactly your item. For instance, I could have saved so much time when I was trying to figure out what these mines through the cambium layer of bark might be – I spent several hours trying to Google the darn things, finally ending up determining that they were probably flies of the genus Phytobia. In sitting down and flipping through the book shortly after it arrived in the mail I discovered the photo on the page at left: instant diagnosis. The book indicates that these mines are made by the larvae of moths in the genus Marmara, and lists which moth species use which tree species as hosts. Not being positive of the identity of the tree, I’m not sure which mine were.

Sure, you can use the book to look things up that you found. But it's just as intriguing to flip through and discover all these interesting things that you can then watch for when you're out hiking. How cool would it be to find this cocoon? And when you finally stumble across one, you have that 'Hey, I recognize this!' moment. (Right-click and choose 'view image' to see a larger version.)

If there’s one tiny disappointment I have with the book, at least from the flipping I’ve done so far, it’s that they don’t have a broader treatment of the different bark beetle gallery patterns encountered on dead logs and trees. Thirty-two pages are given over to the many different styles and patterns of leaf mines, but only four pages cover bark beetle galleries, which are among the most easily-observed of insect sign during the winter months. Still, if that’s the only complaint I have, I’d say the book has done a pretty darn good job.

I should point out that the book isn’t simply a reference book to help you identify things that you’ve already found while you were outside. It is also a great way to discover new things to look for next time you’re out hiking… or even just around the yard or garden. I bet there’s lots of things in this book that you never even realized were insect sign, and you’ll go back to have another look at. Or, stuff that you might have passed by without a second glance that now you’ll know to investigate for possible insect evidence.

I highly recommend this guide to anyone who, like me, has a tendency to pause and puzzle over curious things they encounter while out hiking. Eiseman and Charney have done an outstanding job compiling and disseminating what is undeniably an overwhelming amount of diverse information. This book will be taking a spot on my bookshelf right next to my Kaufman Guide to Insects as one of my primary go-to insect guides. Make this the next nature guidebook you buy. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

For more information about the book and/or the authors, visit the book’s official website (you can also buy a signed copy there!).

Friday Snapshot – Sunrise

Sunrise and Canada Geese over the Ottawa River

Whew – I’m beat! Tomorrow is my one day off a week, and I had plans to take advantage of being able to sleep in past 3am tomorrow morning by staying up a bit later to get a few things done. One item was a planned blog post for this evening… but I’m thinking it will have to wait. I spent this afternoon working in the vegetable garden, weeding and preparing the bed, laying out the paths, and planting a portion of my home-grown-from-seed plants (fingers crossed that we’ve seen the last of the frost till the fall). The afternoon was nice and relaxing, and a great way to wind down after the work day; but what with getting up at 3am, working a full day including an hour commute each way, then three hours in the garden under the bright sun, by the time 9 pm rolled around I found myself tireder than I had expected.

So I think I’ll call it a night; the soft covers of my bed beckon. The planned blog post can wait till tomorrow – it’s my day off, after all. In the meantime I’ll share this snapshot, which I’d planned for Sunday but will use today instead (I’ll put something more substantive up on Sunday). This is sunrise from a few days ago: the silver lining to the dark cloud of a 3 am wake-up call. As I was hunkered down by the shore trying to get a good photo of the sunrise reflecting on the Ottawa River a pair of Canada Geese most obligingly flew by. I got just a single frame with the birds in it – but I thought it turned out pretty well.