Quoddy Nature Notes – March Snakes
March is no time to think about snakes in the Quoddy region. All of our few snakes are hibernating, and we won’t see any for a couple of months, or so I thought. Helping out a little at a recent church function, I encountered a small Eastern garter snake in the cellar. Since no one at the church seemed to want to claim ownership; that the religions of Judaism, Islam and Christianity believe that the snake was a coconspirator in the eviction of mankind from the Garden of Eden (and that’s why we have to wear clothes, even in the summer), and March is the month that we honor St. Patrick (and one of his memorable deeds was driving the snakes out of Ireland); I did find evidence that the cellar was a dangerous place for snakes, and I strongly suspected bad vibes, so I took the snake home and set up a little aquarium for him to camp out for a couple of months. Garter snakes are pretty quiet and don’t eat much, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.
I’m not an expert on snakes, but I think they are pretty neat. I’ve handled a lot of garter snakes, which are the most common snake that we have here, and it’s surprising to me that their range of personalities goes from the most docile to the most feisty. I have been bitten several times, but never enough to draw any blood; sort of like being bitten by a yellow perch while taking the hook out. I have seen pictures and videos of pretty good bites by garter snakes but my most memorable bite occurred once when I was feeding a snake angle worms by dangling the worm in front of him. The snake reached up and grabbed the biggest, wormiest, thing in sight, which happened to be my forefinger, and tried to drag it under the porch. There was a little disagreement over the proceedings, but I convinced him that was not a good thing to do. Garter snakes apparently have a mild venom and small teeth that break off pretty easily when they bite, and their largest teeth are in the back of their mouth, which makes a strange bite pattern. All bites should be cleaned and watched for any infection or allergic reaction.
Hibernation for a snake (more correctly,’brumation’) is a very serious matter and not to be approached casually.
It turns out that hibernation for a snake (more correctly,’brumation’) is a very serious matter and not to be approached casually. In one study of western garter snakes the researchers estimated that the mortality rate for hibernating garter snakes was from 30 to 50 per cent. A naturalist studying the Eastern racer in Southern Maine stated that the survival rate of hibernation for first year snakes was about 18 percent. Apparently garter snakes need to hibernate during the winter, no matter what the temperature. They need to have ample fat reserves, but no food in their digestive tract. When disturbed from or during hibernation they won’t necessarily eat or drink, even if they are starving or desiccated, and desiccation seems to be a primary reason for mortality. I always thought of amphibians as being prone to desiccation but I never thought of dehydration as a major concern for snakes. My
snake probably had one or several of these problems, plus a pretty befuddled keeper.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Juncos
It hasn’t been a very exciting winter in regards to our bird feeder activity. The heavy spruce cone crop seemed to supply all of the nutritional needs of our fine feathered friends, and our black oil sunflower seed bill so far this season has been pretty small. Towards the end of February we got a few more customers with the arrival of a half dozen blue jays, and shortly after that, a dozen Juncos. If your bird guide dates from the 1970’s it might list under ‘Junco’ a bunch of different species that inhabit North America, like the ‘White-winged’, ‘Oregon’, ‘Pink-sided’, ‘Slate-colored’, ‘Gray-headed’, Shufeldts’, ‘Carolina’, and ‘Red-backed’ junco. However it has been determined that these are all the same species, Junco hyemalis, or Dark-eyed junco, which makes life a lot easier for us birders. The only real rarity around here that might cause the birders’ lines to buzz would be if someone spotted a Yellow-eyed junco Junco phaeontus.
A dark eyed junco sits in a balsam fir tree.
Many juncos hang around here all winter, especially the young males, since they want to be here and establish territories for the nesting season. The older males may go south to the Mid-Atlantic States for a little easier wintering. These adult juncos want to get back in the spring, but they are pretty confident of claiming their former territories. The females, however, have none of the real estate worries and may migrate all the way to the Gulf shores for the winter. All of them will be back by late April, have their property squabbles ironed out in short order and begin nesting here in the Quoddy region in May. The female does the work of building the nest. I guess since she is going to use it she doesn’t trust the man of the house to follow her instructions, and she wants it done just right and in the right place. The nest is usually on the ground and pretty well hidden under some roots or overhanging dead grass or shrubs. Dad’s job, during the construction and also the incubation of the eggs, is to stand guard and look important. After the 11-13 day incubation period he does help in feeding the young with small worms and insects. The feeding chore at the nest is only for about two weeks, and then the young are fledged. The parents worry about the youngsters for a few days before starting on brood number two, which is common in this area.
Juncos are pretty rugged birds. One can often see them during a semi or full blizzard foraging for small seeds and grit on the side of a country road. Edward Forbush noted in his book, “Useful Birds and Their Protection” that juncos were a great help to agriculturists because they consumed so many of the seeds of the … “pernicious weeds of witch grass, amaranth, lamb’s quarters and sorrel.” He even quoted a Dr. Judd that timed a junco eating 93 seeds in 2 minutes and 23 seconds. I pretend to help them with an increased bounty of thistle seed and fine cracked corn, and, of course, all of the grit and pernicious weed seeds that they can find.
Since Juncos are ground nesting birds they and their nests are subject to being preyed upon by raccoons, skunks, free roaming cats, weasels and foxes. Sharp-shinned hawks, kestrels, and Cooper’s hawks can catch them in flight. Fortunately, even though juncos may be pretty low on the food chain, they are also quite prolific, and their numbers seem to be in good shape. Other birds, like starlings, crows and quail, have a special word for a group of these birds. I don’t know if there is a distinct word for a flock of juncos. Since they’re my juncos (at least when they are in my yard), I’ll call it a ‘Jehoshaphat’ of juncos.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Balsam Fir
Witches broom in summer.
I’m pretty lukewarm on my feelings for Balsam Fir, Abies balsamea. Even though I like all plants and Balsam Fir is our only native fir here in the Quoddy region and it is the provincial tree of New Brunswick, I don’t rate it as high as, say, White Pine, Beech or Red Oak. Fir is sort of a sticky forestry weed, clogging up my trails even under the heaviest overstory. I consider it higher than skunk currant or poison ivy, but fir is not a big part of my scheme of things, as it makes poor firewood and seldom grows big enough to be useful saw logs. I do appreciate our fir a little more after researching it, and for a puny, pesty tree it has a significant economic impact on the area. The big use is during the Christmas season, when the pleasant scented branch tips are collected for wreaths. There are several ‘large’ companies and many small organizations and households that handle a tremendous amount of brush to do this; for example, one local company, “Whitney Originals”, buys upwards of 1,000,000 pounds a year. Balsam fir is pretty shade tolerant, but the best tips are found on a tree with good sun. The lower branches often take root, and I’ve not noticed any other conifers that do this.
The sap of Balsam fir had been used in the past for making microscope slides, as the stuff is a preservative and has a coefficient of refraction similar to glass. Wildlife often inhabit the dense stands of fir that appear in some sections of older forest for winter cover. Deer, bear, moose, hares and grouse may browse firs, but it is not a sought after food. Birds like Chickadees and Crossbills and Red squirrels do seek out the cones for winter food. Native Americans used the sap of Balsam fir for glue and sealant, and also for cuts and bruises. They made a tea from the inner bark and twigs, and also used the twigs on the hot rocks of their sweat lodges, and in all cases this was thought to be beneficial for the lungs. Early European colonists used Balsam fir twigs as stuffing for pillows and mattresses, and prepared a mixture of about 20% fir pitch and 80% bear grease to use as an ointment for joints and muscular aches. Backpackers know that Balsam fir twigs make a much better sleeping mat than even the least prickly Black spruce. Apparently, in the Province of Quebec the properties of Balsam fir are used more frequently, and the pitch is harvested in the summer by woodsmen called ‘piquers’ who collect the sap in a little special bucket called a ‘picou’. The fir pitch is made into many medicinal items and used in soaps and perfumes.
Witch's broom in winter. The needles have fallen off but the twigs are still alive, and will grow new needles in a few months.
The Balsam fir is attacked by the spruce budworm, the balsam wooly adelgid, and a host of other insects and diseases. An interesting malevolence is the ‘witch’s broom’; a rust fungus Melampsorella caryophyllacearum. This causes a rampant growth of twigs resulting in greenish-yellow blob of needles in the summer that drop off in the winter. The alternate host for this rust is Chickweed. The Balsam fir also is an alternate host for the rust Pucciniastrum goeppertianum. This rust attacks highbush blueberries, and there is no cure or remedy for this once the berry bush becomes infected. The ‘Rancocas’ type of berry is somewhat resistant to the rust, but planting highbush blueberries within a thousand feet of any Balsam fir is not recommended.
I always wondered what was happening to my highbush blueberry patch. I have it all fenced in to protect it from the rabbits in the winter and arrangements for netting in the summer to keep out the birds. Let’s see. If I dig up all my present plants I’ll probably need almost a quart of soothing ointment for my joints and muscular aches. I guess I will need about 6 ounces of Balsam fir pitch and mix that with 25 ounces of bear grease. Hmm. Maybe I’ll use Olive oil instead.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Woodchucks
With the recent ‘celebration’ of Groundhog Day, it might be applicable to look at this critter after its day of prominence. I mean, the beginning of February, during the winter doldrums, is a good time for a little festivity, but this could be Skunk Day, or Snapping turtle Day, and any one of these would be just as applicable here in the Quoddy Region. Our grumpy woodchucks, the few that we have here, are still too busy hibernating to participate in such foolishness.
A woodchuck meets up with a crow. (Archive photo.)
The Woodchuck, Marmota monax, (or Munimqehs in my Passamaquoddy reference book) is a large ground squirrel that is native to Northern and Eastern North America. It is a solitary animal and does not form a social group like other ground squirrels. The woodchuck is also pretty aggressive, and critters like the laid back Punxsutawney Phil are the exception to woodchuck society. When I was a youngster we once found a baby woodchuck that was the exception. Its mother or siblings must have kicked him out of the burrow because of this failing and we brought this relatively docile animal home. He was an interesting little critter and didn’t mind being handled, and went about his business of eating grass and other plants, until one day he wandered into the vegetable garden and ate some beans. Unfortunately, my father had just doused the beans with the latest and most toxic Japanese beetle spray, and this proved fatal to the poor woodchuck. We felt sad about our little pet, and a few days after a proper funeral, we saw an opportunity for a replacement, as we spotted a young woodchuck high up in a red maple near the edge of the woods. Our plans were immediate; I would shinny up the tree and shake the woodchuck down and my brother would catch him with a fishnet on the ground and we would positively keep him in a cage. Up the tree I went, down came the woodchuck and my brother expertly caught him, which precipitated a violent reaction of chewing and biting and scratching by the woodchuck. A few seconds later when I got down my brother was holding a badly mangled fishnet, and the woodchuck had left. Another lesson learned.
In my youth the owners of the small farms of rural Massachusetts welcomed my efforts at eliminating the pesty marmots, and it was an interesting challenge with either .22 or archery. I have long since graduated to Nikon, but woodchucks are not much of a quarry here. I have heard that there are woodchucks in Pembroke, but I have never seen one. I have seen some away from the coast, but not reliably along the highway until Bangor and further south. Woodchucks need a lot of food to fatten up during the summer and are almost exclusively herbivores, although some insects and even poultry have been reported in their diet. True hibernators, their body temperature drops to about 47 Deg F during their winter nap, but males may awaken in late winter and venture out in the snow before returning to hibernation. A very fastidious animal, it may build a separate chamber in its burrow system for a toilet, or bury its scat outdoors. The Native Americans prized the pelt of a woodchuck for making mittens, as apparently it makes a soft leather. The woodchucks prized the beans grown by the Native Americans, and the Indians trained their dogs to guard their gardens. With the coming of the European colonists the landscape was opened up for fields and gardens, and as more prime habitat became available, the woodchuck population increased, and its present population density seems to peak around Ohio.
I have never eaten woodchuck, although it apparently is a good flavored meat, but I have eaten and enjoyed other squirrels. On Groundhog Day I guess it wouldn’t be right to have the guest of honor on the menu. The cranky old woodchuck probably wouldn’t show up at all, and we would have winter all year round.
Quoddy Nature News – Foxes
Foxes
There is actually quite a bit of activity going on in Maine in the bleak midwinter. Bears typically have their cubs (See ‘Lugnut’ and her twin cubs, born 1/16/2012, at http://www.wildliferesearch.org); honeybees are starting a new generation of workers, and foxes have romance on their minds and are marking their territories. We only have the Red Fox here in the Quoddy region and there has been some debate as to whether or not these critters are native or were introduced by the early European settlers. Our Red fox was long recognized as a separate species Vulpes fulva, but it is now deemed the same clever animal of European folklore V. vulpes. Even though some of these animals had been brought over from Europe, the early explorers noted Red foxes and the trade with Native Americans included the furs of the Red fox. Martin Pring, searching for furs and anything of value to trade in 1603, noted Red foxes in the openings along the coast of Maine and especially on the islands. He even named one of the islands ‘Fox Island’, which is now known as Vinalhaven. I checked with Kirk Gentalen, the only naturalist that I know on Vinalhaven, and he wrote that he saw a Red fox there about 7 years ago, but hasn’t seen any signs since. I haven’t seen a fox on our property for many years, even though I encourage native predators, and there is a Fox Island off our shore in Cobscook Bay. I have seen foxes in the town of Pembroke, but I have never gotten a good picture of one.
The Red fox has the widest range of any terrestrial carnivore, and, with over 50 recognized subspecies, it is found on most continents except South America, Antarctica and most of Africa. It may be seen in many colors; including black, gray and silver, but it always has a white-tipped tail. The Red fox has a keen sense of smell and acute senses of hearing and sight. Interestingly, the ears of the Red fox are most sensitive to sounds of about 3.5 kHz; much lower than other predators. It is thought that this sound is more in the range of small rodents gnawing or rustling in the grass or leaves. The eyes of Red foxes are also unusual, being of yellow color with vertical pupils, more like a cat and not much like other canids. Foxes are of the same family as wolves and coyotes but they separated into their own genus about 10 million years ago, so although there have been reports of coyote, wolf, or dog/fox hybrids there have been no hybrids that have stood up to scientific scrutiny.
Red foxes are not very big, and average about 10 pounds. They are pretty immune to the cold weather, and seldom seek shelter for a nap in the most severe blizzard. They just curl up where they feel the safest from predators. The biggest predators around here are trappers and automobiles, even though coyotes will prey on foxes. It’s sort of interesting that there is a strong dislike among members of the canid family. Many years ago I was hunting gray squirrels in Massachusetts, and I had a couple of farm pooches that every once in a while would be helpful in my sport. This time they ran off, and shortly after I heard them barking. The barking was different; there was a distinct hatred conveyed by my normally pretty docile mutts, and I found that they had cornered a Red fox in a bank. I wasn’t after fox, and it was with some difficulty that I got them out of there and back home, because squirrel hunting was done for the day.
Red foxes are clever and considered a challenge to trap. From the data that I have, in the past 10 years the number harvested annually in Maine has ranged from about a 1000 to 2000. The pelts may average about $20, but some exotic silver or platinum colored morphs have in the past brought well over $1,000 each. I hope some plain old Red fox doesn’t get harvested because he rolled around in my wood ash pile. Nah. They’re too smart for that.
Quoddy Nature Notes – The Bittersweet Aspect of Bittersweet
The Bittersweet Aspect of ‘Bittersweet’
Bittersweet, of the genus Celastrus, is a handsome, climbing vine with dark green foliage in the summer and oodles of red berries that appear in the fall and persist all winter. According to one of my references, ‘Flora of the Northeast’ by Magee and Ahles, there are two species of bittersweet that appear in Maine. The native species, American bittersweet, C. scandens, is pretty widespread but rare, and ranges as far north as Piscataquis, Penobscot and Hancock counties, however is not listed in Washington County. The introduced Asiatic bittersweet, C. orbitculatus, is relegated to Waldo, Knox and York counties. In his book ‘Flora of New Brunswick’ Hal Hinds mentions only C. scandens, and as “Formerly inhabiting several islands in the St. John River in Carlton and York Counties and extirpated due to flooding by the Mactaquac Hydroelectric Development.”
American Bittersweet evolved in the Western hemisphere and ranges out beyond the Mississippi, but does not appear on the West coast. Asiatic Bittersweet is native to Eastern Asia (Korea, China and Japan) and was introduced to the United States around 1860, possibly as a low maintenance decorative plant. It appeared in Connecticut by 1916, in Massachusetts by 1919, and in New Hampshire by 1938, and presently has a range beyond its native cousin. One of the reasons it spread was because Asiatic Bittersweet was planted as a very economical method of soil stabilization along roads. There are some subtle but serious differences between American Bittersweet and Asiatic Bittersweet. The plants and berries look very similar, but the Asiatic bittersweet will have the fruiting stems appear where the leaves grow out of the main vine, while the American bittersweet will have the fruit at the tip of small branches that include leaves.
I’ve never noticed American bittersweet in my tromping around in New England, but I have witnessed the expansion of the range of the Asiatic variety. The plant is very rugged and aggressive and will inhabit just about any area, although it really likes wetlands and roadsides. It can tolerate shade and its favorite starting place is the base of a tall hardwood like oak, maple or ash on river bottom soil. Asiatic bittersweet grows sort of slowly in the shade but eventually reaches beyond 50 feet until it finally finds full sunlight, and there its photosynthesis shifts into high gear, and soon plunges the top branches of the host tree into shade, often with fatal results. The vine will grow in about any type of soil and is even appearing on sand dunes along the coast. Some states like CT, MA, NH and VT have listed Asiatic bittersweet as a noxious weed, and the Extension Bulletin #2506 of The University of Maine labels it a threat to native habitats, but it is listed for sale at Surrey Gardens. Be careful, as once established, Asiatic bittersweet is a very difficult plant to eradicate or control.
Bittersweet is not palatable to deer, rabbits or cattle but the berries are readily eaten (and seeds spread) by many birds and small mammals, although they are poisonous to people. The inner bark of American bittersweet had been used by Native Americans as an emergency food, and recent studies have shown anti tumor, anti inflammatory, anti oxidant, anti bacterial and insecticidal properties in compounds produced in this plant. An interesting relative of the bittersweet that is plaguing parts of the US is a shrub from India, C.paniculatus. The oil pressed from the seeds of this plant is, “… used to increase memory and facilitate learning. It induces a feeling of well-being and has reported aphrodisiac effects.” Sounds pretty benign. I certainly could use some help in the memory department. Maybe we could convince those that are inclined to experiment with drugs that C. paniculatus is a good substitute for bath salts.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Honey
by Fred Gralenski
I got the topic for this essay at breakfast. I mix up some oatmeal, bran, slices of wild apple (these will run out in a few weeks), a couple of tablespoons of ground up flax seed and sunflower seeds, and top it off with a tablespoonful of honey. Add some water, stir, then zap this for 6 minutes at a power level of 6, add a little milk and UM! UMM! Fit for a king.
People have been using honey as a sweetener for thousands of years. The oldest reference seems to be a 10,000 year old cave drawing in Spain depicting a couple of women collecting honey. (Of course, with two unclad maidens with baskets on a rickety ladder approaching a bee hive, this may also be the first noted record of a pinup). Mago of ancient Carthage wrote much about agriculture and bees and honey. In biblical times John the Baptist ate locusts and wild honey, and a land of milk and honey was a good place to live. Honey was commonly used in all parts of the old world. In the Western Hemisphere before Columbus there was some honey harvested from stingless bees by South American natives, but honey bees as we know them were not here until the early European colonists.
Looking at the USDA production data of 2010, the US produced over 175 million pounds of honey. Surprising to me, the state that produced the most honey was North Dakota, with over 46 million pounds. Maine was not a heavy producer of honey with a total production of about 246,000 lbs. The data is a little fuzzy as to whether or not this includes the hives brought in for blueberry pollination, but interestingly our production of honey was more than that of Virginia. Since Virginia encompasses Washington DC, I guess the production of sweet talk is more important down there. The country that produces the most honey is China, with over 200 million lbs produced last year. There was some controversy early in the year about China sneaking 60 million pounds of ultra filtered honey through India and into the US. If you want to get some real honey from our own lupines and goldenrods complete with a little pollen and all of that other good stuff, buy your honey local. I get mine from Stephen Taylor of Pembroke. He claims this year was pretty good, and his hive production was very satisfactory, at about 60 lbs per colony. Bee keeping can be an iffy hobby, and some say that coastal properties are especially vulnerable. Bees are very susceptible to just about any pesticide, even if it doesn’t kill them outright, as a bee, like any of us, that is under the weather, just won’t produce. A beekeeper in Lubec had a poor year , lost one hive, and the other hives had such marginal honey production that they opted to leave the honey for the bees for winter food.
We have all watched the busy worker bees harvesting the nectar and pollen, but we are not privy to see what goes on in the hive, and we have to rely on beekeepers and scientists. When the worker bee goes into the hive with a gut of nectar and baskets of pollen, she regurgitates the partially worked nectar into a ‘house’ bee. (This is called ‘trophallaxis’ not mouth to mouth p—-g). The house bee somehow ‘works’ the nectar by digestion and drying (?) until it has the proper consistency of honey (i.e. very little moisture and a ph of about 4.0) so it can be sealed in the comb for later use. Honey in this state will last indefinitely, as no fermenting organisms can live in it. However, the endospores of the bacterium C.botulinum can survive, and with enough moisture, like in the digestive tract of a baby, the bacterium will flourish and be viable, and cause Infantile Botulism. Don’t feed raw honey to an infant, even during the holidays. Us old geezers, however, can enjoy it with impunity on our breakfasts, and if I had any Mead (or any drink made with honey) I’d raise it up and wish you all BEST WISHES FOR THE HOLIDAYS!!
Quoddy Nature Notes – Notes on Holiday Traveling and Reminiscing
It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to travel to western Massachusetts on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, but schedules were set in stone, and alternatives were inconceivable, so off we went. The storm had sort of overwhelmed the road crews, and travel on Route 9 was limited, especially for the semis trying to negotiate the up sides of the hills, and many of these hills were lined with truckers probably bemoaning their fate, and awaiting better conditions. We noted many minor accidents but by Kennebunk the storm conditions had abated and travel was simple the rest of the way, and we arrived safely at our destination only two and a half hours late. (The Wednesday before Thanksgiving brought a snowstorm that closed some roads and put vehicles into snowbanks.)
It’s interesting to be back at my old stomping grounds and note the changes. I found the stone dam in the little brook that my brother and I had built over 60 years ago. The dam was still OK but the little pond behind it had filled with gravel and pebbles that had come off the mountain. This was located a little outside the pasture but the remnants of the old barbwire fence we had strung were deeply buried in the trees that marked the boundary. No domestic animals had tested our efforts at containment for over a half century, and the Norway spruce that I had helped plant back in the 1940’s were pretty big trees. When they were first growing I remember the worms that often got into the leader of the main stem, but the trees are good timber size now. A small rectangular half acre that over the years grew sweet corn, sugar beets and finally tobacco (for my father’s personal use), was now in Red pine, and the little orchard of nondescript apples had disappeared except for a cherry tree that was being crowded out by the Red pine branches. I tapped on an old bird box hanging in the tree and out popped a flying squirrel and he hid behind the tree and waited for me to leave, which I did but not before taking his picture. Another bird house that I had put up years ago had a mouse nest on top of the bird’s nest. I gently poked the nest and out popped a white footed mouse. He tired of waiting for me to get out my camera, and went back inside. I carefully looked inside the nest and there he was all curled up. He let me touch him, and I felt his warm, rapid heartbeat, and then I left him in his house. Since I built the house in the first place I felt that I had landlord inspection privileges, but I later brought him down half a roll from my Thanksgiving dinner. Continuing my check of the old sod I found a Witch Hazel in bloom and wondered why the petals are so strange and why the whole reproductory cycle of Witch Hazel seems so out of sync with the rest of the trees and shrubs. We then did more exploring on one of our favorite spots by the Connecticut River where a line of bittersweet-ladened trees separated the river from a large meadow where corn and other crops were grown. The reward of our efforts was finding a big flock of sparrows, chickadees, goldfinches, nuthatches, robins, bluebirds, blue jays and woodpeckers.
We entertained ourselves while traveling on the roads from Maine to Connecticut and back by noting stuff of nature and other miscellany. Our tally was: 15 Red-tailed hawks, mostly in Connecticut but a couple north of Augusta; 5 deer harvested by hunters and one hit by car; 32 Christmas trees on cars and 4 truckloads of Christmas trees. We returned the Sunday after Thanksgiving and, thankfully, only a small poplar was across our driveway. We did find an unwelcome hitch hiker; a deer tick. Undoubtedly, an omen of things to come. Hopefully, the ‘prophylactic dose to keep from getting Lyme disease’, which is a simple two pill treatment, is successful. I made sure the little bugger was dead before I took his picture.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Raccoons
We have three members of the Procyonidae family in the US, but only the raccoon, Procyon lotor, is here in the Quoddy region, as well as throughout the country and through Central America and southern Canada. The raccoon (or ‘Espons’ in my Passamaquoddy Reference Book) is native only to the Western hemisphere, but has been introduced into many places like Germany, Azerbaijan, Russia, and Japan. I wonder if cottage industries have evolved in those distant countries for exterminators to rid houses and buildings of our transplants? Around here it may be only a few hundred dollars, but in New Jersey I read of $1800 to remove the ‘coon and plug the access entry. Because of their intelligence, dexterity, strength, omnivorous food habits and ability to live next to people, raccoons can be and are a major nuisance. Adult raccoons typically weigh from 10-20 pounds, but the largest on record is over 60 pounds. In the wild their lifespan is about 5 years but in captivity they can live over 15 years. Raccoons eat almost everything, especially anything associated with water, like frogs, snakes, snails, clams, mussels, crabs and salamanders. A few years ago on my amphibian checks in the spring I found a half dozen dead spotted salamanders with their heads chewed off. Even though there was no definite proof, the culprit was probably a raccoon. Spotted salamanders, although not equipped with the toxicity of their cousin the eastern newt, apparently do have an unpleasant taste, but not enough to completely dissuade a hungry ‘coon. Raccoons are notorious for knowing when your sweet corn is ripening, and are very skilled at harvesting it a day or two before you do. They are not very careful or conservative about the process, and besides making a big mess, destroy or damage much more than they eat. Chickens and eggs are also fair game, especially in the late summer and early fall when the ‘coons are fattening up in anticipation of winter. In the spring the eggs of turtles and ground nesting birds are favored.
It’s very difficult and time consuming to secure protection against the destruction of raccoons, as they are very clever, and will find any weakness in any defense system you set up. I find that a fence or any arrangement that incorporates an electric shock is effective, as ‘coons have very sensitive paws. Traps and the .22 caliber solution work, but must be used with caution. Hunting ‘coons at night with dogs is a sport that seems to be more common further south. Raccoons are the most popular fur bearing animal harvested in the US, with about 3 million harvested annually, and the skins go for about $10 to $20 each. Coonskin caps were popular in the time of Daniel Boone, and in the roaring twenties any wag of note needed a coonskin coat to wear while dashing about in an open roadster. Raccoons are good to eat, and some authors describe the flavor as similar to lamb. I like the taste, and prefer it in a crockpot setting. Hunters and Ford 150’s are the only predators of adult raccoons around here, but young raccoons are harvested by owls and coyotes.
Since raccoons are very common here, a couple of cautions are in order about the many diseases common to raccoons, especially several variants of rabies. Rabies is a serious disease, but if recognized in time, treatments are available. A more sinister malady is the ‘Baylisascaris roundworm’, a common parasite of raccoons in some parts of the country, but, fortunately, not very common here yet. If the parasite infects a person, the worm migrates to the brain, and, according to the CDC, no cure is presently available. The infecting vector is raccoon poop, which may contain the eggs of this parasite. The CDC recommends considering any raccoon poop on your stairs or deck as hazardous waste, and washing the area with boiling water, as chemicals like Lysol or bleach are ineffective.
And finally, after all this, one can, with the proper permits, buy a baby raccoon online for $350. I would strongly advise against this. If your child needs a pet, adopt a cat from PAWS, teach the child to take care of it and keep the cat indoors.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Canada Geese
by Fred Gralenski
Our Canada goose, Branta canadensis, may be distantly related to the silly goose of fairy tales and barnyards, but trying to categorize it and its closer cousins is pretty tough. Krohn (1988) wrote that sixteen subspecies of B. canadensis were recognized in North America, and these ranged in size from the Giant (Branta canadensis maxima), tipping the scale at up to 20 pounds, to the 3 pound ‘Cackling’ goose B.canadensis hutchinsii. Recently the single Canada goose species was separated into two distinct species; the ‘large bodied’ species Branta canadensis, with 7 subspecies; and the small bodied or ‘Cackling’ species Branta hutchinsii, with 4 subspecies. (Are you confused yet?) Historically, geese were a favorite of hunters, both Native Americans and the Europeans that subsequently followed, and by 1900 no geese were nesting in Maine and few were flying overhead to migrate in the spring and fall. This caused great concern among hunters and conservationists alike and hunting regulations and seasons were adopted and enforced. In the early 1960’s wild Canada geese were captured in the Midwest and introduced to Maine. Apparently some or most of these birds were B.c. maxima, the Giant Canada goose.
An interesting characteristic of this bird is that it is not migratory, at least in comparison to most of the other types of geese, and is content to live close to people. This feature has proven to be a problem all over New England, as geese are attracted to open fields and other places with ample grass and water. Golf courses, parks and airports often have to resort to extraordinary means to keep the pesty critters at bay. We lived in Massachusetts in the early 1970’s, and I remember some of the incidents at Logan International Airport with planes being damaged by collisions with geese. Our property abutted a small swampy pond, and I recall being impressed by a pair of Canada geese that noisily took up residence there. I was less impressed with them when they ate everything in the little 6X8 foot patch I had dug up for a veggie garden. Even when I fenced in my garden the geese would reach in and bite off or uproot any plant in range. They did migrate in the winter, but only a couple of miles to the nearest open water on the Merrimack River. When we lived in Northern New Hampshire there was always a large flock of Canada geese on the Androscoggin River. The story was that they had been collected somewhere in Connecticut and brought up there. Geese have also been transplanted, very successfully as far as geese are concerned, to Great Britain and other parts of Europe. I suspect that they are the non-migratory versions, and I wonder how the groundkeepers of fancy estates like the greased-up lawns.
Here in Maine I seldom see (or hear) the high flying Canada goose, Branta canadensis canadensis, on its Spring or Fall migration flight. Canada geese generally mate for life, and apparently if a local bird mates with a migratory bird the family takes up the non-migratory way of life. We do occasionally have the small ‘Cackling’ geese here in Maine, but the subspecies is indeterminate. I have never seen one but Bill Sheehan has posted pictures on his blog of individuals he has photographed up in Aroostook County. Maine has a split hunting season that focused on the resident Canada goose population in September and a season that focuses on the migratory population from Oct to Dec 9 here in the Quoddy region. The total harvest in Maine last year was about 9,000 birds. If you are really into goose hunting, Maryland is the place to go. Hunters harvested over 200,000 birds last year in Maryland, and that’s a lot of Christmas dinners.
Quoddy Nature News – How Did Your Garden Grow?
Do you suppose people asked each other that question back in the 1500’s when the old English nursery rhyme, “Mary, Mary quite contrary…” was first written? Probably, but that ditty apparently had little to do with gardens but with the Protestant/Catholic struggle going on at the time. But aside from stirring up old rivalries, how DID your garden grow?
From what I found out from my many questions (I do like to babble about everything, especially in small groups and with people that speak up), most gardens in the Quoddy Region didn’t do very well. Mine was poor, with few bright spots, but it was still an interesting growing season. I knew that the corn would be a failure because of the cool, damp weather, and that certainly came true, but I had read somewhere that potatoes, onions, carrots and beets could tolerate and even thrive under those conditions. My potatoes pouted instead of sprouted and produced little; my onions, usually a pretty easy- to- get- along- with crop, grumbled and wouldn’t play by the rules; my beets just sulked all summer, and the carrots looked sickly all season with yellow jaundice and didn’t recover until the end of September. They have a healthy green color now, and that should look nice against the snow. Squash, usually another stalwart, came up only sporadically and produced only one and a half small fruit. The half one was small enough to be shared by a raccoon. Usually winter squash, when they are ripe, are too big for these masked thieves to bite, but this year I had to share. Cucumbers were a different kind of story. The ones I planted directly in the ground a week after Memorial Day never emerged. Linda started cucumbers in the sunspace, and the two plants she didn’t sell at the Pembroke Library book, bake and yard sale I planted in the garden. I misjudged the hardening off process and my poor cucumbers got scorched by the sun and really looked tortured, and I worried about what I would say if Amnesty International came knocking at my door. Those two plants, for all my mistreatment, supplied us with reliable summer salads from the middle of July all the way through September and I harvested the last cucumber on October 6th. I’m not sure if I learned anything in the process or not. Peppers also were a pleasant surprise. The seeds sprouted very slowly when I planted them inside in mid-April, and the plants didn’t look very energetic when I set them outside early in June, however this was one of my better years for peppers. I raise primarily the Hungarian hot wax peppers, which really are not very hot, but do have a little zip to them. I find that the bell peppers are not as reliable, and I raise them sometimes as sort of an experiment, like I did with the super hot peppers. As of this writing on 23 Oct, I have one hot wax and two super hot pepper plants still producing. Tomato growing this year was confusing. I usually have a lot of seeds left over from previous years, as I like to raise a bunch of different types of tomatoes. I like the yellow pear, various types of cherry, plum and maybe an heirloom or so and a big beef for salads and sandwiches. This was the first year in over 20 years of gardening in Pembroke that I had problems with ‘wilt’ or ‘late blight’ with my tomatoes. My plants started out looking very healthy, but then were very slow to fix fruit, then seemed to wilt. This happened in different stages to different types of plants, even those that were deemed wilt resistant. Every gardener I talked to, except a fellow from Lubec (?), had similar problems and one gardener even claims he is giving up gardening. Is this why Wal-Mart in Calais is adding a big grocery section? Is this why ‘JOHNNY’S’ had a big ad for their new and improved 2525 DEFIANT PHR (F1) to protect against Phytophthora? Besides soil, fertilizer, water, etc. do I need a Crystal ball to raise tomatoes?
Quoddy Nature Notes – Black Knapweed
Black Knapweed is not a common plant here in the Quoddy region. The flower looks like a thistle, but the plant has no thorns or prickers to ward off us nosy people that like to poke around with such things. This knapweed is called ‘black’ because of the lower parts of the flower head (bracts) are a dark brown/black color, and each bract looks like a tiny dark frilly fern. Black Knapweed, Centaura nigra, belongs to the Aster family Asteracae, like daisies and sunflowers. It is a perennial and ranges from New England through the Middle Atlantic states down to the Virginia/ North Carolina border and out to and including Missouri; and the Pacific Northwest including California. There are about 25 species of knapweed here in the United States, and most have been introduced. Black Knapweed was first noted in the Western Hemisphere in Quebec around 1850. The prevalence seems to be around the coast, and I have not noticed it here in Pembroke but I have noticed it in the Machias area and on Campobello. It seems that it was brought here inadvertently and also intentionally as Black Knapweed is used as a garden border in its native United Kingdom. Most knapweeds prefer dry areas like gravelly roadsides and railroad beds, and don’t particularly like the heavy, wet soils that we typically have here, however these guys are pretty persistent and can be invasive. Black Knapweed is classified as a noxious weed in the state of Washington especially in King county where it was first noted in 1895, and anyone putting in a border of Black Knapweed for their garden risks a healthy fine. There are biological controls listed if Knapweed overwhelms the area, but they are not cheap. Root weevils are available at $140 for 100 insects or the more economical Flower weevils at the bargain rate of $80 for 200 bugs.
Closeup of Black Knapweed showing the frilly bracts.
I can’t find any references that the Native Americans used any forms of knapweed for anything, even though the stems seem to be pretty tough and wiry. The flowers of Black Knapweed are an attraction for honeybees and butterflies like the American Lady. The flower petals, like many flower petals, are purported to be edible, and can be added to salads. Another attractive feature of Black Knapweed is that it is unlikely to be eaten by deer. Goldfinches like the seeds, and each flower head produces about 60 seeds, and these closely resemble thistle (or Niger) seeds.
American Lady on Black Knapweed.
Black Knapweed has been used for centuries in Europe as a medicinal plant, especially as a help in healing wounds. A poultice was made of the leaves and applied to the stricken area. This procedure was also used for treating ‘whitlows’ and ‘felons’. ( According to Webster’s, these are “…pus producing infections at the end of a finger or toe near or under the nail.”) For catarrh, a decoction of one ounce of dried roots and seeds should be put in a pan containing two and a half cups of cold water. Bring this to a boil then simmer until a volume of only one cup remains. Strain this and after it cools use a dose of 2 ounces three times a day. If the patient gets better, it worked. If the patient doesn’t get better, he probably didn’t have catarrh (whatever that is) anyway. And, as a medical finale, my Culpeper states that Knapweed “…helps to stay the fluxes…of the mouth and nose…and also of the belly.”
One reference stated that in Germany it is the custom for an unmarried person to wear the flower of black Knapweed in their buttonhole. Are unmarried persons more apt to have unstayed fluxes of the belly?
Quoddy Nature Notes – Meat
As I write this, the calendar says summer is still with us, but a few cool, brisk days signal the coming of autumn here in the Quoddy region. This also signals the start of hunting season in Maine. Check the rule book for the dates, as they are often staggered for methods, areas and species. Hunting is now largely a sport around here, but it wasn’t too long ago that hunting was deemed a necessity for some rural families. I like to hunt, even though I don’t do much anymore, but I also like to ponder the evolution, preparation and prejudices of food, with no apologies that I’m a carnivore.
The oldest reference that I can find for meat preparation is the bible in the book of Exodus. In the first Passover, the Israelites were commanded to slaughter a one year old male lamb (sheep or goat) at twilight, roast it over a fire with its head, legs and inner organs, and consume it that night with bitter herbs and unleavened bread, and, likely washed down with some local drink. Reading between the lines, the Israelites were admonished not to eat any of the meat raw, so they probably did so at times. A roast that size would take 3-6 hours. Did they leave the skin on? Were there any preparations whatever of the lamb?
Moving ahead to the mid 1600’s, and Nicholas Denys wrote his memoirs of life with the Native Americans in what is now New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. In describing the porcupine, Denys wrote, “…It is very good to eat. It is placed on the fire to be grilled like a Pig… Being singed, well roasted, washed, and placed on the spit it is as good as suckling Pig.” I can’t follow his description very well. Did they leave the skin on (and inner organs) and singe the porcupine and then roast it? What is ‘washed’? Is that another term for ‘basted’? I would think that it was on the spit during the roasting.
My next reference, ‘Indian New England Before the Mayflower’ by Howard Russell, I find very informative. He writes that Native Americans were known to waste little, and their consumption of any animal was almost complete. “…Raccoon, beaver, otter, turtle, skunk, rabbit, woodchuck, rattlesnake, seal, whale, frog -the meat of every kind of mammal except flesh eaters like the wolf- the natives cooked and ate.” I think that Russell snuck in a little bit of European slant when he wrote of the exception, as the Native Americans were known to consider dog meat as fit for any guest. The Indians often roasted their meat but liked it boiled if time permitted. Certainly drying and smoking were standard ways of preserving meats and fish, but interestingly enough the Native Americans, even along the coast, apparently never used salt. Many early writers noted this, and surmised that various herbs and ”… the digestive parts of animals were likely to contain concentrated flavors and food salts.” Even after European contact, Native Americans used little if any salt in their diet but did adopt the use of salt for preserving meats.
The famed mountain men of the American west generally roasted their meat, and apparently ate lots of it, at 5 to 7 pounds at a sitting. With their very active lifestyle they needed many calories to survive, and wild game is very lean. These outdoorsmen almost always depended on large game, as a single rabbit or grouse would definitely not suffice for a single meal.
Good or bad, our present consideration for the type and preparation of meat is heavily influenced by a lot of fads and prejudices. Lots of these are regional, as in the South it is definitely more common to see ‘Chitterlings’ (chitlins) on the menu. I’ve never seen that on a menu in the Quoddy region, but I can readily get steamed clams and eat the WHOLE thing except for the shells and ‘skin’ on the neck. And I can get, and enjoy, calamari. Squid! You ate a SQUID!
Quoddy Nature Notes – Dogbane
Dogbane
by Fred Gralenski
We have two types of Dogbane here in the Quoddy region; Spreading Dogbane (Apocynum androsaemifolium) and Indian Hemp Dogbane (Apocynum cannabium). Both are very widespread, and can be found over most of the US and Canada. It is a little difficult to tell them apart, especially since they are closely enough related that they readily hybridize, but I’ve noticed more of the Spreading Dogbane. They both like dry, well drained soils and are a distinct nuisance to crops like wild blueberries, as they propagate by seed and underground runners. The dogbanes are winding down their growing season, and the flowers are past their prime, but still handsome with the delicate pinks. The genus name, Apocynum, means ‘poisonous to dogs’ which it is, and also to us and all livestock, but fortunately dogbane is very bitter and most animals shy away from eating sufficient quantities that may be toxic. The sap of dogbane is a white, sticky latex similar to the sap of milkweed, which is in the dogbane family. Both types of plants furnish food and habitat for the Monarch butterfly, especially in the larval stage. The Monarchs assimilate the toxins in the plant and are well known throughout the animal world as being unpalatable and are avoided on sight. Some moths, like the Dogbane Tiger Moth and the Milkweed Tussock Moth, also feed on Dogbane and assimilate the toxins and, since they mostly fly at night, reportedly have developed sonar defenses against bats to announce their bad taste. The flowers of dogbane are visited by honeybees and butterflies, as they are a good source of nectar, but unsuspecting flies may become trapped in the flowers, hence another common name is ‘Flybane’.
The latex sap may have some qualities to be processed into a substance like natural rubber, but so far no commercial ventures seem to be forthcoming. The roots, bark and sap, however, do have some interesting medicinal qualities. Most references list dogbanes as being poisonous with many cautions, as diarrhea, vomiting, slowing of the pulse, excessive perspiration, dizziness, mechanical instability, skin irritation and coughing could be induced, however dogbane does have a large (and hopefully careful) following of herbalists. A mild concoction of dogbane juice applied to the scalp is supposed to provide the proper irritation to stimulate hair growth. The fresh juice of dogbane root mixed with alcohol has been used for the treatment of syphilis. (I guess this is better than the mercury compounds that were once prescribed.) A drop of fresh latex sap on a wart applied 3 times daily was guaranteed to get rid of the offending wart. For birth control a decoction of two roots of dogbane and one quart of water brought to a boil and allowed to simmer on the back of a wood stove for an hour and drinking a small dose of the liquid was recommended to prevent conception. Now I’m pretty much of a skeptic when it comes to herbal medications but I can see some wisdom in that. I would think that a good case of diarrhea and some vomiting, often precipitated by ingesting dogbane, would calm down even the most passionate romance. Native Americans had known about dogbane for thousands of years, and utilized not only the chemicals but also the plant itself. In late summer , when the seedpods were forming, the fibers in the bark, especially Indian Hemp Dogbane, could be stripped off and made into a fine, strong thread, and this they used for sewing and making bowstrings and snares. They found that dogbane fibers also retained their strength when wet, and were therefore extensively used in fishnets.
I find it very interesting that dogbane has so many potential uses. Some of those listed are in error; either by percentage, or mixture, or just basically incorrect, but I firmly believe that there are a myriad of uses yet to be discovered, as some preliminary studies indicate tumor lessening qualities. And there are a myriad of plants like dogbane.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Seasonal Foods
Seasonal Foods
by Fred Gralenski
With the summer winding down here in the Quoddy region it’s interesting to note the changing diet of the critters as some their foodstuff items have gone by, others are still available and some are just starting to ripen. From my perspective this year was not a good year for Service berries. The blossoms were outstanding in the spring, but I guess some hiccup in the weather must have hindered the development of the fruit. Pin cherries were pretty good, but were all gone by the end of July. A small tree out back of the house was an attraction for the local robins for only a few days before it was cleaned out. Choke cherries, a very common small tree along the roadsides, last longer, and there is always a little competition between the birds and four footed critters like chipmunks and red squirrels as to who gets the most. The Mountain Ash looks like it’s going to produce heavily. And so it goes.
Chunky. He got his name by the chunk taken out of his ear by something or somebody.
All animals need protein to grow, and the easiest way to get protein is from other animals. Hummingbirds supply their young with mostly tiny insects and spiders until they fend for themselves. The youngsters somehow learn to catch tiny insects to finish their development, and are now buzzing each other, primarily around the flowers and hummingbird feeders. All summer, wasps and yellow jackets combed the area vegetation for grubs and caterpillars to feed their young, but after the young have reached their adult stage these insects change their diet and now search for nectar from flowers, stealing from the hummingbird feeders, spilled jam on a picnic table and decayed or overripe apples. The apple crop seems to be pretty good this year, with some heavily ladened trees already dropping their production. Many critters like rabbits, squirrels, porcupines, coyotes, bear and deer will use apples in their diet, as well as birds like Robins, Blue jays, Pine Grosbeaks, Ruffed grouse and turkeys. Other fruits that are ripening are blackberries (lots of berries, but all pretty small size), bunchberries (good production), Lingonberries (good production) but my favorite little patches of blueberries seem to have been overtaken by bears and raccoons, leaving me with slim pickings. Around the house my cultivated fruit trees have been harassed greatly by porcupines, so my dream of a harvest of Asian pears, peaches, plums and apples is essentially zilch. My garden provided extra sustenance to a big crop of rabbits that found our yard to their liking. Smutty Nose, Ginger and Chunky (some of the rabbits that we could recognize) and their progeny saw to it that we wouldn’t over indulge in lettuce, beans or peas. They even ate the sunflowers, but didn’t touch the beets or carrots. I guess I can use the carrots in a rabbit stew.
Smutty Nose and Ginger, named for their colors.
Our squirrels have been pretty well behaved, and are switching from mooching under the bird feeders to their normal diet of cones.
Balsam Fir cones. Notice how they point up.
The cone crop is pretty good this year, with all spruces and Balsam firs around the house producing pitch-oozing cones. I don’t know why the fir cones point up instead of down like the spruces. Intuitively, it would seem that the cones should be built to shed the rain and dust. I know bananas are sort of the same way, but I don’t think bananas are very closely related to the firs. Our cedar ‘cones’ point upwards also. It might have something to do with pollination, or maybe Mother Nature just gave us something else to ponder. I wonder if the squirrels ponder that when they get their faces all pitch from eating the green cones.
Spruce cones dripping with pitch.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Cross Country Nature Notes
July was a busy time for us as we flew out to California to a grandniece’s wedding and a mini vacation. Although I’m certainly not an experienced air traveler, but here’s a little advice: have a little patience with the confusing guards and regulations and go with the flow. If you like to gawk out the window (like me), select a seat before the wing, and remember flying to the west coast is the reverse of POSH (Portside Out, Starboard Home), otherwise the sun is a nuisance. The flight was educational in many respects. Across the Great Plains each piece of land stood out, a symbol of the property rights promised in our Constitution. Each piece represented a unique idea; an investment in time and money and hope for increased prosperity. How unlike the social insects, like bees and ants! But with people, this is the system that seems to work best for all.
Stellar's Jay
Next came the mountain states, with snow still evident in many places and finally a landing at San Jose, and then fearfully off to compete in the notorious California traffic with an unfamiliar car to the Santa Cruz area. The weather was very comfortable. A typical day starts heavily overcast with a temperature about 60 deg, but around noon the clouds clear and it warms to the lower 70’s. The spring rains had been heavier than usual, and the streams in the mountains were still high from the melting snow, but any ground not artificially watered was hard and dry, as it would typically abstain from raining until November. Somehow most woody plants would adapt, and I made several whistles as sap had loosened the bark, but the grasses and others of their ilk exhibited discomfort and the hillsides were brown. The coast had many of our familiar Herring gulls, but more of the smaller Heermann’s gulls (thanks, Herb), and the little birds at the picnic table were mostly Brewer’s blackbirds. A few sanddollars, miscellaneous shells, and stems of giant kelp 2 inches in diameter dotted the beach. The inland birds were Barn, Tree and Cliff swallow; California towhee; Stellars jay, Raven, Crow, Bushtit, Junco, RB Nuthatch, Turkey Vulture and Robin. Visiting the few ‘Sloughs’ (swamps)we saw Coot, Longbilled Curlew, Yellowlegs, Pelican, GB Heron, one frightened snake that scooted away, heard some Bullfrogs but saw no turtles, lizards, leeches or salamanders. We did see some deer. Our White tail deer are much more handsome than those California deer. There were essentially no biting insects, and I saw some honeybees and three unidentified butterflies. But the trees! Ah! Magnificent! The redwoods went straight up into the morning mists and beyond, and even stumps of trees cut a 100 years ago looked dramatic, as did some of the carcasses left behind. But time was short. Those that were scheduled to wed got married, we said our farewells to old friends and relatives, and, remembering my seating advice, boarded the plane in the airport in San Jose, surrounded by the brown hills, and flew home.
Aphrodite Fritillary
The following weekend we did the next portion of our Nature Notes here in Maine where we participated in the annual Entomological BioBlitz at the Schoodic Education and Research Center of Acadia National Park. This year the focus was on Lepidoptera, and in a frenzy of collecting from noon July23rd to noon July 24th, our group of about 110 dedicated net sweepers managed to collect and identify over 320 species of moths and butterflies. I’m still not very good at understanding the complexities of nature, and insects add another dimension to the confusion, because there are so many and they are small, and the way they do things seems so strange. For example, how does the tongue of a moth or butterfly work? I can’t even identify most of the moths. I guess I’ll have to buy more books.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Roadside Flowers: Vetch
Now that the lupines are fading away into ugly stalks and pods, we have to look a little harder for other flowers of the blue spectrum. Of these the most common is vetch. Vetch is not that bad of a plant, even though the name naturally comes out with a sneer. There are about 140 species of vetch of the genus Vicia worldwide; there are about 70 species in North America, and as far as I could determine, there is only one species that is native to North America, and that is Vicia Americana, the American vetch. According to the USDA, we have seven species (and many subspecies) of the genus Vicia here in Maine, but we don’t have the American Vetch. Maybe it was going to come through New Brunswick, but Homeland Security caught it and kept it out. The vetches that we do have seem to be from Europe and Asia, and, like most of us, are grandfathered in.
The common roadside vetches that we have here in the Quoddy region are the Garden vetch Vicia sativa and the Bird vetch V. cracca. There are many common names for vetches which tend to lead to a lot of confusion. For example, another name for the Garden vetch is ‘Tare’, which gets convicted as the dreaded weed mentioned in the bible, of which it is innocent. In biblical times V. faba was grown as food, and this plant was first domesticated about 10,000 years ago. It wasn’t a very palatable dish at the time, and as the world got more wealthy it sort of dropped out of use, but it was the precursor to Fava beans, which are much in use today. One of its admirable characteristics is that Fava beans can be grown on soil with a pretty high salinity content, and efforts are underway to augment this feature.
Our common roadside vetches were imported and used as fodder for animals, especially cattle. The plants are legumes and can fix nitrogen from the air and the plant can use this nitrogen to grow and produce proteins that are necessary for animal life. The vetches do contain cyanide bearing glycosides, and while the amount is small, care must be taken in feeding animals, especially cattle, a balanced diet as the vetches are considered a moderate risk of bloat. None of my herbal or medicinal books recommend any teas or any other uses of vetch. They do have a lot of recipes for alfalfa, a distant cousin to the vetches, even though they do have warnings about consuming too much. Maybe I need a few more books.
Vetch is used for stabilizing slopes from erosion, as it grows quickly and has a formidable root system. The Crown vetch was frequently used on the sides of highways for this purpose. A relative of Vicia and a perennial, Crown vetch does its job well, but has a problem in another way. Vetch is a good forage crop, and deer recognize this, and problems arise when lots of deer are along the highway and sometimes want to see the vetch on the other side. Crown vetch, Coronilla varia, is sold by companies like Buckmaster to sportsmen to grow in fields to attract hungry deer. Some organic gardeners use vetch for growing tomatoes, as the plant fertilizes the soil and doesn’t add too much competition to the tomatoes. Vetch is an excellent green manure, but it can be a nuisance to those that like a squeaky neat garden. (Fortunately, I’ve outgrown that silly habit). It is very difficult and time consuming to get rid of vetch. Although our common vetch is an annual, it bears little peapod like fruit very quickly, and the tiny hard seeds are virtually indestructible. A friend confided in me that she once bought some composted llama manure and spread it on her garden and inadvertently inoculated her weed free flowers with vetch. (A very prim and proper lady, she said ‘vetch’ with as much disgust as she could muster) I guess there are some things one just has to learn how to live with.
Quoddy Nature Notes – The New Generation
The new generation; winners, losers and too close to tell
by Fred Gralenski
We’re not into July yet but it’s interesting to search for clues into the trends of the future populations of some of our critters here in the Quoddy region. The ravens that had nested nearby raised two youngsters, and they left the nest in early June. They still periodically come by to check the stump where I left them table scraps and other goodies, and one can hear them talking back and forth to each other now and then but mostly they are either gone or pretty quiet. They did leave me a present: a part of the carapace of a 3-5 pound lobster was dropped by the house. Ravens are smart alecs, and since I mostly fed them scraps, were they just returning the favor? I did buy some dog food which they seemed to like but I couldn’t find any raven food anywhere.
Lobster part. Nothing left for me. I don't know where they got it.
The robins that had nested near the front door continue to be a puzzle. They were actively feeding three youngsters by the end of the first week in June but shortly after all was quiet. Now normally when robins first leave home there is a lot of ruckus. Young robins usually leave the nest before they can fly very well, and the parents are very hyper and protective about their offspring, so a lot of begging, scolding, cajoling, etc., accompanies these first flights. But there was none of this. Did a predator get the youngsters while we weren’t keeping guard? But the nest wasn’t disheveled. A mystery. A robin then built a nest on a small ledge I had built for that purpose up beneath the eaves of the barn, but that fell down into my cucumber patch. I couldn’t fathom that either, as there were no high winds, or any other obvious cause, but as of this writing there is interest in the old nest near our front door.
Young robins near our front door. They were pretty comfortable with our comings and goings, but the parents were antsy.
The chickadees failed in a nest in a birdbox by the garden, but might have another nest in another box, and the song sparrows are acting worried like they have a nest in the day lilies. Back on May 22nd a couple dozen blue jays descended on our feeders. They should have been paired up and nesting by then and I asked Herb Wilson from Colby college what was happening. He mentioned that he had witnessed the same odd behavior, and it was his opinion that the blue jays would nest again. I received a similar report from Eastport that this occurred there also.
Worried Momma song sparrow. She's on a climbing rose, about 8 feet up. The rose had been chewed up by a porcupine.
In the amphibian world the wood frogs seem to have good numbers and are progressing nicely. In the smaller, warmer ponds the tadpoles have largely changed to real frogs and have left for their life on land. In the larger, cooler ponds the tadpoles are still lazily cruising around waiting for that magic moment when they can start hopping. The salamanders are, as usual, a few weeks behind, even though I actively urge them to pick up the pace. Salamanders, even in their larval stage, are carnivores, and although I like to watch most things in nature, I could probably do that as well or even better with a few less mosquitoes. I guess timing and anticipating the future is pretty important in everything from corporate survival, especially in high tech stuff like computers and cell phones, to amphibians. My amphibians have to pick a pond that warms up quickly but doesn’t dry out. In some ponds on my watch list the salamander eggs haven’t even hatched yet. Most amphibians can overwinter as larva, but risk the pond freezing to the bottom.
And Vivi, the red squirrel? How’s her brood doing? She’s not telling.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Lightening
by Fred Gralenski
We’re not fully into the lightning season yet, even though we have had a couple of little distant rumblers. Although there are about 2000 thunder storms at any one time across the globe and about 5 million lightning strikes daily, Maine is not high on the list for thunderstorms. Even so, it is a frightening and impressive display of energy. Each lightning stroke is roughly one terawatt of energy dissipated in a few microseconds. Is that a source of ‘green’ energy that everyone seems to be talking about? Sure is. Is it reasonable? Nope. Scientists have concluded that the average lightning bolt, if it could be harnessed, would light a 100 watt light bulb for 5.5 hours. Mankind has been impressed and frightened by lightning since before the first Homo walked upright. He invented gods and the most powerful usually controlled lightning and tossed thunderbolts at his whim. People noticed that lightning usually struck the highest point, and apparently different trees. Oaks were struck much more often than beech trees, and it was thought that beech were protected by the spirits of the forest. A little ditty was composed by some anonymous traveler: “Beware of an oak, It draws a stroke; Hide under a beech, You’re out of reach.” It wasn’t until the days of Ben Franklin that scientists associated lightning with electricity. At that point research along those lines, partly because of a few fatalities, was slow to progress for the next 100 years, and even now there are lots of unanswered questions about lightning. We know that lightning is ‘merely’ an electrical discharge, but the size and timing and place of this discharge can cause some unusual effects. We know that a large quantity of dust and wind like a volcanic eruption or a violent forest fire can initiate lightning. We know that lightning occurs on some other planets, like Venus, Jupiter and Saturn. Some scientists feel that lightning on the early earth may have instigated the very situation that started life here. Is this far from the ancients with their gods throwing lightning bolts? We know that ‘dry’ lightning, that is, lightning with little or no precipitation associated with it, is the biggest cause of forest fires in parts of the US and Canada; and we know that ‘Heat’ lightning is cloud to cloud or internal cloud bolts of lightning that are too distant to hear. We don’t know what ‘Ball’ lightning is. It has never been replicated in the lab and the sightings are so rare that they cannot be investigated, and some even categorize Ball lightning as induced hallucinations. The power and communication companies are obviously very concerned about lightning, but their installations imply an art versus a science. I have buried power and telephone lines. “Why,” I ask the telephone man, “do I have so many problems with my phone line?” I couldn’t understand his answer that buried lines were much more susceptible to lightning than overhead lines. After one scary thunderstorm when all of the phone jacks in the house exploded I asked the PUC how do I ascertain that the telephone wire is installed correctly and not an iffy thing like Franklin’s kite string? They never replied. The Verizon fellow had a different grounding system than that used by Bell Atlantic, and Fairpoint seems to follow Verizon. No big problems in the last few years, but still some nuisances.
Pic is a nice spot in the woods by our house to have a picnic, except with storm clouds in the area. Most of the tall spruce have been struck by lightning. The interesting thing is that there is a ridge a couple of hundred feet away with trees growing on it, and those trees, although higher, get hit less frequently.
It surprises me the number of trees that have been struck throughout my surrounding woods. Red spruce is my biggest and commonest tree so it gets hit the most. It doesn’t seem to explode like the White pines usually did that I noticed when I was a youngster in Massachusetts, but a slash mark down the trunk indicates a hit. The trees don’t always die, but the mortality rate seems to be about 50%. I think the old lightning ditty needs another line: “Watch out for spruce, They’re full of juice”.
Associating With Wild Critters (or not)
There is a big difference between domesticated animals and wild ones. As a matter of fact there are probably less than a couple of dozen types of animals that are considered domesticated, and these all have been with people for thousands of years. Of course, we have to agree on a definition of ‘domesticated’. Webster defines ‘domesticate’ as “to cause to be at home”, or “to accustom to home life” or “to tame”. Now supposedly dogs have been ‘domesticated’ for over 15,000 years, but dogs send more people to the hospital than any wild animal in the continental United States. It must be that ‘domestication’ has to be a relative term or a continuing work in progress. We here in the Quoddy region interact with a lot of wild animals almost daily, but seldom ponder the effects of our actions. There are some times when we do think about the effect of our actions, like when a deer darts out in front of us when we are driving and we are unsuccessful in evading him. Our thoughts are then generally unprintable and Walt Loring’s Auto Body gets a new (or repeat) customer. There are many ways to address problems such as the perceived overpopulation of some wild animals, but none seem to satisfy everyone. Some say there is no problem, and we should just be more careful; and certainly our ‘problem’ is not of the scale of places like New Jersey, where the population of deer, after having once been extirpated, has returned to real nuisance levels. Canada geese fall into the same category, although they apparently are a result of a misguided process to introduce a variant for hunting. The unfortunate interactions with these critters are often exacerbated by people coaxing them with food. The recent actions over on the Charlotte road in Moosehorn with a black bear is an example, and the potential for injury to people is greatly increased as is the resulting demise or at least relocation of the bear.
- Pic is Vivi. I knew her a little from last year, (She still had the same ‘V’ on her tail) but she had to get familiar with people again. A pretty easy-going squirrel, but be careful if she gets excited by another squirrel. Once she felt threatened by another squirrel when I was feeding her and she ran up my arm and leaped off my shoulder to a nearby tree before I knew what was happening.
Some wild animals can be tamed, but it apparently takes many generations of selective breeding. Don’t think that you have tamed a chickadee because it eats sunflower seeds from your hand. It doesn’t like you. It just considers you an ugly variation of the regular feeder that it has learned to trust, because no harm has befallen the animal in the many times it came for a seed. If you do feed critters up close and personal, keep in mind the effects of your actions. Consider, along with getting bitten, contacting: Hantavirus, West Nile virus, bird flu, Raccoon disease, rabies, salmonella, or any of the many malevolencies spread by the ever present fleas, lice and ticks. Consider also the effect on the area if your actions attract more critters and the potential nuisance.
In spite of these perceived hazards, we naturalists (?) often handle wild critters, from snakes to butterflies and everything in between. I’m interested in all of them; what they look like up close, where they are found, their life history, variations, and certainly their personalities. And besides that, it’s fun. I even pretend that some of them like me.
Quoddy Nature Notes
by Fred Gralenski
A sign of the times.
Many years ago when I was a young student I was supposed to read that “April is the cruelest month” by some famous writer or something. I don’t remember that it had to do about nature, so I guess I didn’t pay much attention. Now that I’m an old geezer, I think that April, especially after tax time and here in the Quoddy region, is pretty neat. I even read that April is National Frog Month. Hard to beat that.
The frogs were in an amorous embrace, but still 100 yards from the pool. I was tempted to carry them down there in that i didn't feel it was fair for the guy to hitchhike all that way, but I left them alone. Maybe it was her idea.
The wood frogs, after the snow and ice have melted over the place where they individually overwintered, somehow head for the pool where they changed from tadpoles into frogs. Now nature has, what I call, a 95% rule. About 95% of the frogs head for their home pool, but the other 5% explore the area for new digs (or splashes). This feature works for most returning spawners, including Spring Peepers, the mole salamanders and other critters like salmon and alewives. One can understand the usefulness of this characteristic for the species to survive in case something drastic happens to the original pool like a shopping mall or parking lot being built on it (more likely now than before), or conversely, to populate a vernal pool that some amphibian lover (like me) built for additional habitat. From what I can gather our amphibians seem to be in good shape. My casual checks of our critters look favorable and so far I’ve seen a good number even though the season is just starting. It is interesting that the Chytrid fungus that is devastating many western and tropical frogs does not seem to be affecting our animals here in Maine, although the fungus is commonly found here especially in the Northern Leopard frogs.
Big Momma wood frog
Anyway, after watching the snow disappear during the day, take a little stroll in the evening along some boggy areas and look and listen for the critters. The amphibians out now are very relaxed at night so people can watch them. There are other critters too. The other evening on one of my perambulations there were quite a few millipedes looking for something dead to scavenge. Millipedes generally have two sets of legs for each body segment, and centipedes have one set of legs for each body segment. My millipedes were pretty tolerant of examination (they didn’t bite me)and were probably of the family ‘Julidae’, and are an introduced species.
Spring Peeper
Millipede of the family Julidae
Other critters that are interested in romance besides frogs and salamanders here in South Pembroke are the Snowshoe rabbits. They start changing color from white to brown in early April and are pretty tame by now. I don’t know why. We seldom see them all winter, and even their tracks in the snow are usually at a distance from the house. With April they come out in the open areas near the house and graze on the emerging green shoots of grass and dandelions, in between romps of chasing each other around. I guess they do this to endear themselves so that when the garden greens come up they can help themselves to those also. Sometimes I feel like my middle name is ‘Elmer Fudd’, being outwitted by a ‘wascally wabbit’.
Of course we must not forget the birds of April. My ravens have set up shop, and wait for me to drop kitchen scraps in the hollow stump by the bird feeders, although they are very cautious and timid. The robins here are still all males, and I haven’t seen any nest building activity, and the colorful birds, the warblers, are still pretty scarce. As of this writing I have seen only one warbler, a Palm warbler snacking on the flies in the washed up seaweed at Gleason’s Point. Well, April showers bring May flowers and May warblers.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Chances
By Fred Gralenski
All life consists of options and taking chances. Even our everyday comings and goings are a bunch of compromises and bets and guesses without ever going to Hollywood Slots. We do this sort of naturally, and most of these chances are not serious or life threatening. During the recent vigorous and soggy snowstorm, I thought of the various trees along my driveway and some close to the house that should be addressed. There is a chance that some of these trees will come down during a pretty inopportune moment, but I was betting that they would be OK. It turned out I was only half right. The top of one broke off and landed on my driveway and I had to haul it off during the storm. Actually it was a little interesting sideline as the power was off. Of course gambling at national or international levels becomes more serious. Which countries do you call allies? Will they be allies 10 years from now? Where do you put the nuclear power plants, or do you prohibit them? What’s your bet on global warming? Hopefully these decisions involve a lot of scientific consideration and not just a spin of the roulette wheel, but I’m sure there are a lot of opinions proposed in the haggling that determines the outcome.
Critters take chances too, but those are usually triggered by some genetic cues. For example, robins usually migrate as dictated by temperature. Studies have indicated that they apparently follow roughly a 37 degree daily average temperature. This generally works OK, but if our recent spate of bad weather continued for any length of time our population of robins could have been noticeably reduced. If global warming is real, what effect will that have on some critters that have their life cycle determined by the changing ratio of sunlight to darkness, like weasels and snowshoe rabbits? Even bugs take chances. Honeybees have to lay up a supply of honey that will last them through the winter. Carpenter ants have to decide where to hibernate. Will the tree that they hollowed out for their winter quarters last the winter? I cleaned up a blowdown this past (?) winter that was sort of unusual. The trunk had broken off about 6 feet up, and in processing the firewood I noticed an ant colony towards the base. The ants were scattered throughout chambers up to about 3 feet from ground level, but in only the top chambers were the inhabitants viable, as the early winter rains had flooded the lower chambers, and killed the ants, and possibly the colony if the queen was among that group. Amphibians and reptiles also have to make a choice as to where to hibernate. Wood frogs are vulnerable and often depend on a good snow cover for winter survival. If the snow is lacking and the frost is deep the frog can still survive in a frozen state, but the limit is less than 3 weeks. So far, this looks like a good year for the amphibians, and amphibian walks are scheduled in Pembroke on April 20th and at Moosehorn on April 21st.
My winter forest spider. Probably of the genus Callobius, and maybe Callobius bennetti, or Bennett's hacklemesh weaver spider.
I also learned a little more about our native spiders. I knew that spiders in the house, or some protected places with elevated temperatures where they could stay active, survived the winter as adults, but I never thought that any around here in the Quoddy region overwintered outside as adults. That was my belief until I found a couple of spiders in some of my wood processing chores. An email to Charlene Donahue of the Maine Entomological Society set me straight and although forest spiders have not been studied extensively, it is not unusual for some forest spiders to hibernate as adults. It’s always a good day when you learn something new, as that reduces your chances of being wrong.
Quoddy Nature Notes – Spring 2011
by Fred Gralenski
Spring is in the air! Winter had hung on too long, and the snow and cold were getting dreary. Old Man winter may still sneak in some punches, but the betting now is on Spring to win. Of course one of the downsides of the snow melting is the bottles, cans and cigarette butts that are now appearing in abundance are proof of our slipshod regard of our planet. Here in Pembroke we won’t address that seriously until our roadside cleanup day, on May 7th. You’re welcome to join. But in the meantime, enjoy our world as it comes back. The Robins, Blackbirds, Song sparrows and other birds are here with many more to come, crocuses are blossoming and our daffodils are tentatively checking out South Pembroke, and skunks and raccoons are patrolling Leighton Point road nightly looking for food and romance. Spring is a good time to study our world, and even the simplest of things can be puzzling. For example, many Spruce and Cedar trees lost a lot of small twigs this past winter. This seemed to occur randomly, as not all experienced the drop, and I did not notice any problems with any Balsam fir. Even my sprouting onions are a puzzle. I start my onions (Ailsa Craig for size and Copra for long keepers) down cellar near my wood boiler and after about a week or so they are up enough to move out into the sunspace. Why is it, when they first come up, that they look like green staples? I mean, why does the middle of the stalk come up first before they start growing like onions normally do? These are some of the silly but fun things to contemplate about our world, but our world is not always a nice place, as we see in the devastation of parts of Japan. It’s sobering to remember the land that we are living on, where I raise my onions and our deed says that we own, is moving around (terra firma NOT!) and running into other parts. Scientists tell us that the reason this is happening is because way down deep in the earth there are layers of molten stuff burbling around a humongous nuclear reactor. Under the influence of gravity forces generated by the sun and moon, the plates move. A lot of this molten stuff is iron, and its mysterious motion generates a magnetic field. This magnetic field not only lets compasses work so I can teach Boy Scouts about orienteering, but it also shields us from the harmful solar radiation. This magnetic shield is a marvelous piece of celestial engineering, as it deflects the stream of lethal ionized particles from the sun, but lets the sunlight through so I can make vitamin D for my bones and my onions can work photosynthesis and make biomass for their bulbs.
Here in the Quoddy region we historically don’t have much of a problem with big earthquakes. I do have a Geologic Map of the Passamaquoddy Bay Area that shows the named faults like the Oak Bay fault and the Fundian fault and lots of offshoots. We even have an offshoot going by our house. But what about tsunamis? Well, there have been warnings of the possible collapse of Cumbre Vieja volcano on La Palma, in the Canary Islands. A study of this site was done in 2001, and if the collapse does occur the study predicted a tsunami of about 10-12 meters at our Northeast coast. Would the shape of the Gulf of Maine/ Fundy Bay augment the wave like it does a normal tide and inflict on the Quoddy Region a more punishing tsunami? The study didn’t indicate, but I’m too busy to worry about it. It’s Spring. Any day now the Fox sparrows will show up on their migration north. Handsome, reddish colored critters and a little bigger than a Song sparrow, they vigorously rustle around looking for snacks by kicking up the dead leaves and grass using both feet at once.
Quoddy Nature Notes: Technology
By Fred Gralenski
The advances in technology are pretty amazing. The production of timber with such machines as ‘Cut to Length’ and ‘Feller buncher’ greatly ratchet up the capabilities of people harvesting wood and significantly reduce the manual labor involved. Some Luddites may bemoan the loss of jobs that machines create, and disapprove of the investment needed, but that is progress. It’s fun to ponder progress. Before the present machines there were chainsaws as the primary tool of production; before that the crosscut saw and the pulpwood saw were the advanced technology. The tooth pattern of these saws was developed in the latter 1800’s, when it was discovered that raker teeth permitted much more efficient cutting. Before that the axe was the primary tool for cutting down trees. John Springer, writing his memories of his work in the Maine woods in the early 1800’s, tells of the biggest tree he ever harvested. This behemoth was a ‘Pumpkin pine’ growing in the Baskehegan watershed that was over six feet in diameter at breast height. According to Springer, he “…was employed about an hour and a quarter in felling it.” According to my calculations he had to chop out over 20 cubic feet of pine wood before the tree fell. Springer was not able to reap the full benefit of his efforts, as the butt log was too big and the crew was forced to abandon the log instead of floating it down to the mill (probably in Calais or Baring) where”… it would have been worth $50… “(Or $26,200 in today’s dollars, using the ‘Production Workers Compensation’ method developed by Williamson). Way before Springer’s steel axe the Native Americans harvested pine trees and made dugout canoes with their tools of flint, rhyolite and bone, and, of course, fire. The felling of a tree the size of Springer’s would have taken days, and most likely involved dancing, feasting, storytelling and other entertainment.
Tree that the ants had been working on. They didn't hibernate in the heavily cut out places but in the more secluded spots.
I’m a Luddite in some respects as I think technology seems to foster an impersonal look at the project at hand, especially harvesting natural resources. For example, the ‘Cut to Length’ operator is (and has to be) more concerned about his machine and its working than any particular tree, unless that tree represents a hazard; otherwise his stress and alertness are focused on the machine. The Native American noticed everything about the tree he was working on; the bark, grain pattern, etc. , as did Springer, who commented that he found a hole in the center of his tree, and that represented a lessening of his effort. In my last column I mentioned cutting down a 15 inch diameter Red Spruce with my chain saw (pretty measly with respect to Springer’s trophy) but I studied my tree. I noticed its grain pattern and the ants hibernating in it, and I cut up the butt for firewood to get past the damaged part, and saved the rest for a saw log. As I split the firewood I wondered about the sizes of the workers (big, medium and small), and that there seemed to be quite a few winged males or drones with pointed tails interspersed among the hibernating workers, but I saw no queens. I collected about 50 ants in a Kool whip bucket, brought them inside and put a small cover full of molasses in the bucket for a wakeup snack. Within a few hours one of the small ants moved, but it took the greater part of three days before all of the survivors were franticly mobile. There were a few small pieces of bark from the parent tree in the Kool whip bucket and these were a great attraction to the aroused ants. Just a little piece of the old sod, I guess.
I probably wouldn’t get hired by a high production logging company. Even if I learned how to operate a ‘Cut to Length’ they most likely wouldn’t appreciate me filling the cab with cans of hibernating ants or beetles or anything else I might find.
Hibernating ants that I had disturbed. Notice the different sizes of the workers and the winged drones.
