CORMORANT-A-MY-HOUSE

There was a recent, unusual sighting of Double-crested Cormorants in the Upper Deckers Creek watershed in Preston County, West Virginia. This is sort of like seeing a Prairie Chicken in Memphis, but anything is possible, I suppose.

A Cormorant is quite a bird, actually, and there are six species recorded for North America, the Double-crested one being by far the most common and is the only one you could expect to see inland around fresh water. I have seen four of these species.

The fish-eating Double-crested Cormorant lives in and around water and can be distinguished by its large, greenish-black plumage, a slender hooked-tip bill, orange facial skin, and webbed feet set well back on its body. It is named for the two small tufts of feathers on either side of its head, which appear on the adults in spring plumage. The bird can frequently be observed standing erect on rocks or posts, sometimes in a spread-eagle posture drying its feathers; or swimming low in the water, often with only its head and neck exposed. On the water, it can be distinguished from loons by the distinct upward angle of its head and bill.

This species has had its ups and down in the US interior. Although present in Lake of the Woods, Ontario for a long time, no individuals were seen in the Great Lakes until they began to colonize the western end of Lake Superior around 1913. This habitat was successful and the species spread eastward through the Great Lakes even to Lake Ontario. By 1950 everyone agreed that there had been a population explosion.

Initially there was a large outpouring of complaints from fisherfolk who felt these birds were competing for the desirable harvest species of fish, however wildlife studies on pellets and what not failed to support this claim. The preferred foods of these birds were alewife, perch, and rainbow smelt.

Still, control measures were instituted, some official and some not, and nesting success was greatly decreased. Soon though, natural nesting failure primarily due to eggshell thinning took over in the 60's and 70's and the Double-crested Cormorant population crashed. As with other fish eating birds, egg shell thinning was due to contamination of DDT breakdown products and PCBs.

Once DDT was banned and the toxicity and sources of PCBs identified and controlled, this species rebounded smartly. Oh boy did they rebound! Today we see another crest in populations of Double-crested Cormorants and the West Virginia sighting may have been a part of that.

As before, fisherfolk are complaining, but most of their concerns are not justified (the birds eat very few salmon fry for instance), but there is a great concern remaining that the populations are decimating pan fry species such as yellow perch and small-mouthed bass. It takes about a pound a day to feed EACH adult cormorant during nesting season.

Another documented problem caused by the nesting birds is the vegetative destruction caused by their nesting habits. These birds are colonial nesters and the combined weight of their nests result in breaking of limbs and even entire trees. Add to that the tons of excrement that befouls and kills herbaceous plants and you can see a huge environmental effect. This is especially a problem on small islands and this leads to subsequent erosion.

I lived for 8 years on the North Carolina Outer Banks and in that time I could detect annual increases in this species during the winter. Huge, huge numbers of birds spend the winter in the Pamlico Sound where they spend the night. In the morning they fly out and raft up in the ocean. Towards the end of my tenure there (early 00's), I would marvel on my morning trip south along the coastal highway and as I began my climb onto the lengthy Oregon Inlet bridge to Pea Island I could see enormous numbers of cormorants leaving their nightly habitat, flying east over the bridge to the ocean side. The flocks filled the sky in continuous lines from one horizon to the other.

Now something has to be feeding those enormous numbers of fish eaters and I do not know if the salt water species that feed them have been as well studied as the Great Lakes species. Also, what do you suppose the effects of all that poop has on the estuary? It is already assaulted enough with pig farm run off (a big lobby in NC).

So what is the next stop in cormorant natural history? Huge populations of these birds would not be welcomed in WV habitats like New River, Ohio River Islands, or Cheat Lake.

Stay tuned.

LET'S GO BOG SLOGGIN'

Well, another bog slog under my belt. For some reason, I have this proclivity to explore bogs, i.e., wetland habitats populated by unique plants and creatures adapted to living in a semi-aquatic or at least very wet environment. Several things are required to take part in a bog slog, chief of which is to try to find one. Bogs were anathema to our immediate ancestors, engineers, and realtors. Such a waste, in their eyes. Consequently much of what were former bogs, were drained and either plowed up or paved over with concrete. Sometimes a bog will disappear naturally and succumb to its own success. If there is no water outlet and no new water coming in, the growth of plants gradually matures and dies, paving the way for a new layer to take its place, and so on, layer upon layer, until finally the bog no longer exists. Consequently, bogs tend to be off the beaten path and you must work hard to find or get to one. One of my favorites, located in southwestern Pennsylvania, is reached by a long walk to a landmark, from which you must take off at a pre-determined compass heading to get there. So, if you know how to use a compass, getting there is half the fun.

Next, you must be prepared for wet feet. Taking a step in a bog often means sinking in over your shoe tops. Or higher! They don't call them bog slogs for nothing. Some sloggers wear boots which serves only to make the water line higher. Water can come in over boot tops as well and a water-filled boot is no fun. I prefer just to wear my grungiest tennies (n.b., all of my tennies are grungy so making such a choice is difficult). Many of the most interesting plants are low-growing in which case, you must get down on your knees to examine or photograph the beauty you just found. Remember what happened to your shoes? Well then, wet knees are de riguer as well. Occasionally you either stumble or sink well below expectation which can result in a backwards fall, so a wet bottom is a sign you have had some fun! Did I mention that the territory being explored was pretty wet? Well, pretty wet can mean pretty bugs. Lots of 'em. A little bug spray or a lot of resistance to being bugged are also helpful things to take along.

Approaching a bog usually means you are traveling through transition zones to get there. The edges of a bog were once part of the bog in previous times, but now support the growth of new flora which consists primarily of shrubby species. This means that although you have been proceeding nicely enough through open woods, now you are fighting thick underbrush and getting slapped in the face by branches bent forwards by the guy walking ahead of you. Sometime the approach is pleasant like walking through waist-high Cinnamon Ferns or it can be physically challenging like trying to find your way through a Rhododendron or Mountain Laurel jumble (they don't call them laurel hells for nothing). Like I say, getting there is half the fun.

In recent weeks I have had the opportunity to take part in two bog slogs, one to Chalk Hill Bog near Fort Necessity National Historic Park close to Farmington PA and more recently to Christner Bog near Pennsylvania's highest point, Mt. Davis. At 3,213 feet above sea level, Mt. Davis isn't terribly high for the Appalachians of which it is a part nor does it stand out either because the "peak" is but a bump in a long ridge of the Laurel Highlands in Forbes State Forest. Don't expect to find Christner Bog on any map; you have to go there with someone who has been there before. In fact, the official PA state map does not even clearly show how to find Mt. Davis! Our leader had a GPS thingy in which he had recorded co-ordinants obtained from some one else, but I consider this cheating and missing out on a lot of the stumbling around trying to find just where in the heck it was.

A date, time, and place were set to rally and off we went down the requisite back roads to the jumping off point. After briefly summiting Mt. Davis, our pull off was but a short distance further. Dense, mature forest completely surrounded the road as well as Mt. Davis and were it not for a sign proclaiming the 3,213 datum, you would not know you had achieved such a remarkable geographic experience! Since we were there for a botanic experience, you can start looking as soon as you get out of the car. On the roadside were two plants not in most people's floristic acumen, Poke Milkweed and Hogpeanut. I immediately recognized the distinctive seed pods of an Asclepias, but I was unfamiliar with this particular species. Our leader chose to take us on a dead reckoning course set by the GPS task master. This resulted in a lot of branch fighting, root tripping, ankle-twisting and what not, but a number of colorful mushrooms greeted us along the way, e.g. several colorful russulas, scads of amanitas, particularly the Blusher, and some small waxycaps. Check out the photo on the left of a Yellow Waxycap. Of particular interest to me was an otherwise undistinguished and often-overlooked species known as Slippery Caps.

At last, the bog appeared and we were greeted by an amazingly dense stand of Golden Club which must have been a spectacular sight when in bloom two months previously. This species has not been found often in West Virginia. My only experience with it has been in a backwater of the Cheat River near Holly Meadows in Tucker County. Cotton Grass here and there signaled what we were in store for a little later when we entered the larger glade and found it everywhere. I consider this species a friendly marker of other bogs and high places I have known. From this little sub-bog of the larger, we re-entered the laurel hell and proceeded further along our way. I periodically made note of my reverse compass heading as a precaution thinking that the leader's GPS thingy's battery might zonk out or else he could drop it in the water! My compass still works under water after repeated dunkings :) After a few slaps in the face by laurel boughs, we found the larger part of the bog (see photo above left) and I have never seen so many Pitcher Plants! They were everywhere. The lighter elements are either Cotton Grass heads or Pitcher Plant blooms mixed together - a wonderful sight. In the past, the only ones I had ever seen previously were single clumps here and there as they do in Chalk Hill Bog. It is an interesting species. You always find it in boggy situations and its nutritional requirements must be very exact. I have known this species to have been deliberately planted or introduced into other bogs nearby and they just held on for years before spreading and then only slightly. But here in Christner, it was Pitcher Plant heaven. It is an insectivorous plant that grows in nitrogen-poor soil. To supplement its nutrition for this essential element, it has evolved a curious method of trapping insects which it dissolves as nutritional supplements. The insect is attracted to the flower or to the sap secreted in water caught in the curious pitcher-shaped leaves forming a rosette at the base of the plant. Anyway, the bug falls into the soup held by the leaves, it drowns, it is dissolved, end of bug. See a close-up on the left.

Another neat insectivorous plant requires keen eyesight to find, Sundews. Each plant consists of a rosette of leaves on stems arising from a central point. On the tips of each leaf are tiny drops of a fluid that traps and dissolves tiny bugs. Notice that the plant is a light red color and this blends in so well with the surrounding sphagnum moss that it is often difficult to see them. There are three species of these interesting little plants, one of which and maybe two that have been introduced from elsewhere.

Other interesting flowers are found in these bogs, e.g., Rose Pogonia, Narrow-leaved Gentian, Grass Pinks, Clammy Azalea and many more have been seen on recent slogs. These are indicator plants, i.e., their distribution has declined markedly since records have begun to be kept and this signals an irretrievable loss that can not be sustained. Contrary to the U.S. Corps of Engineers' opinion, you can not create a wetland with a bulldozer. It takes decades if not centuries to evolve these habitats. It behooves us to take care of the few that we have remaining.

I'VE TAKEN A LIKIN' TO LICHENS

One of the most interesting subjects I took in the seventh grade was Geography. More than learning about exotic and foreign locations all over the globe, was an introduction to understanding how climate, physical forces, and the advent of biologic organisms have shaped our planet. I was especially intrigued about how solid rock, once it cooled, could be turned into the earth that I knew, the soil I planted seeds in, which grew the grass I had to mow, or which formed the basis of the playground we spent hours on. Freeze-thaw cycles that could rupture rocks seemed self-evident as did the enormous pressure exerted by roots from plants that had taken seed in cracks of the rocks. But what really seized my imagination was the effect of mysterious organisms called lichens that were able to colonize on bare rock surfaces and through their erosive action, reduce rock surfaces to soil.

It is the pioneering capacity of lichens which begins the laborious and time-consuming task of soil building. Thanks to the erosive effects of wind, temperature extremes, and things which break big rocks down into smaller and smaller rocks- i.e, lichens - we have an environment that can now be a host to an infinite array of other life forms. Where could a tropical forest grow without soil to say nothing of a dazzling array of orchids that grow on the plants of that forest? And where could the enormous quantity of wheat and other grains grow that have fed us since the dawn of civilization and even before? None of these would be possible without soil.

Lichens are the most hardy pioneers you will find growing on the surface of the earth - the searing deserts of the Southwest, the frozen tundra of the far north, the wind-swept balds of the Appalachians at altitudes over 6,000', as well as the mostly barren skerries and reefs of the oceans. Owing to their unique construction and biochemical composition, one can find a lichen almost anywhere where there is fresh water except where man has fouled the environment with air pollution. As tolerant as they are for climatic extremes they are hypersensitive to sulfur dioxide, heavy metal precipitates, and fly ash. They are barometers for the prudent - when you see evidence of dying lichens or worse, no lichens at all, you had better start asking questions. (The lichen above was found out in the Arizona desert, surviving in the extreme aridity and heat.)

From the strictly utilitarian point of view, a whole culture of northern people, the Inuits, have often subsisted on eating lichens and indeed lichens have helped many survive such inhospitable climes in times of isolation, and without them, many an unlucky explorer, e.g., Scott, Lord Franklin, etc., did not. The whole food chain of the northern tundra depends on lichens for they serve as the basic food for caribou and reindeer. Various cultures around the world have used lichens as part of their diet as have a variety of rodents, herptiles, and insects.

Something vastly intriguing about lichens has to do with their cellular composition. Although they are given genus and species names, are recognized by their individual, constant morphology, have reproductive structures, etc., i.e., all the usual things characteristic of any living organism, they are the unique product of two vastly different biologic entities, a fungus and an alga! The fungus provides minerals, protection, and a fixed place in the environment while the alga provides oxygen, sugars, and other necessities of life. Quite a marriage, actually! You can separate the fungal and algal partners and grow each separately in the lab and, here is one of the great phantasmagoric happenings in biology, when you put them back together they do not grow as two separate entities, but rather they morph back into the habit of the lichen species from which they originally came! Some see this partnership as mutual symbiosis and others see it as parasitism, i.e., the fungus is parasitizing the alga. If that it parasitism, it has no other parallel in all of nature.

In addition to providing a soil-manufacturing mechanism and a food source, lichens also serve to colonize formerly barren wastelands, i.e., they are often the first pioneers in what will become a steady, but changing succession of flora. I live near a former artificial lake that had been drained when the dam(n) structures decayed past usefulness. This left a largely barren, clay base on which hardly anything grew. Among the hardy pioneers of Brookside Alder and "Poverty Grass" were of course lichens. Not only do the lichens help stabilize the soil from wind erosion, some species have the capacity to fix or add nitrogen back into the soil, thanks to the blue-green algae present in some species.

There are four major lichen types as well as a few lesser oddballs (isn't that always the case?). Those that are leafy and easily detached from the bark, soil, rocks, or whatever they are growing on are called Foliose lichens. The illustration at left is an example that is found growing on trees throughout most of the eastern U.S. and southern Canada. It is the Green Shield Lichen. Its characteristic yellow-green color and rosette shape is found commonly growing on tree bark. It is very sensitive to air pollution.

A very interesting group is the Fruticose lichens which consist of those that are tufted, pendant, or shrubby and consist of many branches, often with extremely fanciful fruiting bodies grossly visible. A good example of "fanciful" is the one pictured at the top, the Common Pixie Cup Lichen. The lichen at left is one of the most easily recognized of all lichens. It is called "British Soldiers" in references to the colorful red fruiting bodies' resemblance to the British Redcoats of colonial times. The most interesting thing about this lichen is that it does not grow in Britain! Love it.

A smaller, but very interesting group is the Umbilicate lichens, so called because they are attached to their substrate by a small (compared to their large size) holdfast or belly-button. Many are very easily recognized and are found in very shaded, moist locations. Some species were especially prized by pioneer women who extracted colorful dyes from their substance to dye home-spun fibers, like the one at left, Rock Tripe.



The hardest group to work with is the Crustose lichens because they can not easily be removed from what they are growing on; you need a geologist's hammer to break off pieces of rock or what not and Rangers and Park Superintendents take a dim view of me taking a chip off of some historic monument :). Also, the identification requires more technical skill, more microscopy, and even biochemical testing. Nevertheless, they are intriguing and worth the effort. The specimen at left is an easily recognized Concentric Boulder Lichen.

Thanks to some time on my hands, the hankering to explore wild places, and the availability of some first class resources to help me, I have been endeavoring lately to learn the names of some of these fantastic organisms in my midst. Somewhat daunting is the need to acquaint myself with a lexicon of technical terms like isidia, soredia, squamules, podetia, etc. Also, it is extremely useful to acquire a dissecting microscope, that is one that provides clear enlargement 5-20 X. I have no excuse now, I've got to get busy - there are an estimated 3600 North American species of lichens north of Mexico. Speaking of excuses, please excuse me, I have some specimens collected yesterday in a wild outing I must now examine.

OSPREYS ARE WONDERFUL

Ospreys are some of the most amazing birds I have ever encountered. The first time I ever saw one was when I was a 12 year old kid on vacation way up in the Northwoods of Quebec. It happened the first time I ever took out Dad's 17' square-stern canoe with 3 hp motor. I headed up to the Narrows and parked near one of our lunch sites and soon became aware of a loud thwack on the other side of the lake and when I looked I saw an Osprey take off. It soared high, circled and then dove again with another loud thwack. It was awesome and although I have seen Ospreys many times since, nothing equaled the magic of that first moment.

Subsequent sightings of Ospreys were few and far between. For one thing, I did not live in Osprey habitat. In my present location, if I saw an Osprey at all, it would be during migration. I saw my first WV Osprey on a wonderful early spring canoe trip through Canaan Valley many years ago. But more than that, for much of my time, Ospreys were in serious decline and their populations tanked, largely due to pesticide accumulation and the effects of those chemicals on nesting success. That bugaboo is now behind us although there is still pressure from the agricultural community to reinstate the use of DDT.

For eight years, I lived on North Carolina's Outer Banks where Ospreys were alive and well. There was abundant opportunity to observe these magnificent birds. We lived in a boating community which consisted of numerous canals and land projections and I took an annual nest census each year of just our harborside community. My original count was 24 nests, but even in this community, that number declined; it was down to 17 at last count. New construction and hurricanes accounted for most of the loss, but incredibly, what did NOT affect nesting success was human activity. Boats were going in and out all day, people were mowing the grass right under the nesting platforms, loud construction was going on nearby, etc., but the Ospreys seemed to adapt to all of this human noise, more so than I perhaps.

Osprey watching became a major activity for me and I witnessed some of the most amazing things about them. We were lucky to have a tall nest platform in the vacant lot just next door to us. We could peer into each other's bedrooms, so to speak. Since Ospreys have been shown to mate for life, we could always count on the same pair returning each spring. I kept track of when our first Osprey would appear on nest and it was usually the last days of February or the first of March. After Osprey young have fledged and are on their own (in early to mid-August), the adults would depart for their leisurely migration to wintering grounds. Radio tracking data show that the pairs of Ospreys do not "cohabit" or even have anything to do with each other after nesting chores are finished. And why should they? They go on separate vacations. You and your spouse might want to give that a try :). The reasons for being together simply are no longer required. The tracking data show that the paths the birds quickly diverge. One partner may winter in Belize and the other hundreds of miles away in southern Mexico, for example.

Now here is the kicker. The female would show up on our next door nest platform within 24 ours of the male, How do they do that? How would two birds who spent the winter hundreds of miles apart arrive at their nesting site so close together at the same finite spot on the planet within 24 hours of each other? Remarkable. But then Ospreys are remarkable birds.

During my first summer, I would occasionally see an Osprey flying low over the water, skimming it with its talons making a streak in the water. At first, I thought it was "fishing", but this did not jibe with my youthful observations in Quebec nor what I had read about their food-gathering methods. Well, when you want to find out something like this, none of the current guide books will help you - all they will do is point out in minute detail what the bird looks like all the way down to its innermost feathers and inter-molt appearances, etc. All very boring to this observer. There is only one place to go and that is the monumental multi-volume series published back in the 20's and 30's by Bent. In my copy, I found the answer. It seems that the Ospreys are "washing" their feet getting rid of the slimy fish parts wedged between their talons. Makes sense. After tearing up to five pounds of fish per day for the young and each adult, things would get a little gamey up in the nest. I have seen all manner of discarded fish parts below our platform so can only imagine how "ripe" it must be within the nest :). Not all the feeding takes place in the nest. The above pic shows one having breakfast on our back deck railing.

Speaking of which - our Ospreys did not live alone. Each summer, they had some pretty raucous neighbors which they seemed to tolerate if not encourage. Commensalism is a great word in biology and means "eating at the same table". A good example is the association of Ospreys with House Sparrows. These latter birds are the mice of the bird world who have adapted quite well to the refuse of civilization including the messes we leave behind. Voracious at the bird feeders put out to attract more interesting American birds, House Sparrows are considered as vermin by most bird watchers. Well they do just fine cleaning up the gunk in an Osprey nest. They build their nests right within the sticks and branches that the Ospreys have used to construct their own nest! All day long the House Sparrows fly in and out of the Osprey nest "basement" without so much as attracting a doleful eye from their landlords. The House Sparrow benefits from having a well-protected home already built for them as well as all the food they could possibly want. Hey, three squares and a roof. The Ospreys benefit from having these scavengers help tidy up the joint.

Do I like to watch Ospreys? You betcha - more fun than just counting them or checking them off on a list.