Our Window on Nature

A rose by any other name looks better without aphids. And eating aphids is the specialty of the ladybird beetle, affectionately known as the ladybug. The ladybug earned its nickname by devouring pests that have been tormenting man ever since the Garden of Eden.

Back in the Middle Ages (and before the Age of Insecticides), these beetles appeared just in time to gobble the bugs infesting Italian vineyards, leading farmers to christen them “The Beetles of Our Lady.” That name caught on (except in France, where they’re considered “The Cows of the Lord” of all things.) Englishmen call them ladybird beetles.

We’re in error when we shorten the name to ladybug, for at least in a technical sense, these insects aren’t bugs, but beetles. But at least the name is a short one, more appropriate for their diminutive size.

Several species of ladybugs exist in this country, their names being descriptive of the patterns of lines on their heads and number of spots on their bodies. Most of the insects possess bright red-orange wings, yet in the Southwest you find some ladybird beetles colored a stylish celadon green. Elsewhere, species wear yellow wings marked with black spots. Still others have their colors reversed — orange or yellow or green spots on shiny black backs. (Read the rest …)

A little over a month ago we wrote about endangered Whooping Cranes, both with information from the 1980’s and an update about their present status. We also included a link to a National Geographic video featuring training flights for the young birds.

Since they were captive-reared, these young Whoopers didn’t know their way from Wisconsin to their wintering grounds in Florida, so they were trained to follow an UltraLite aircraft.

After a 1,234-mile journey taking 76 days, the birds have finally reached their destination at Halpata Tastanaki Preserve in Florida. If you didn’t read the earlier article, here is a link. And another for the must-see video.

Just how far can a butterfly fly - assuming it has the urge? Down the block? Across town? All the way to the county line? Much, much farther if you happen to be a monarch - up to 3,000 miles.

Like Snowbirds, they fly south, hundreds of millions of wings filling the air. We’ve watched them flutter along the Massachusetts shoreline, and we’ve seen pine trees hung with living lace where they have settled to roost overnight. We’ve accompanied them across the Nevada desert, asking why they couldn’t find a less arid route. It’s little wonder that the monarch migration is one of the world’s great natural events.

Actually, the monarch is the only butterfly to make this massive, species-wide migration. Others may do a certain amount of moving about in search of food, but no one else in the insect world follows as predictable a path to as certain a location. Why do it then?

What follows is still speculation, but it’s informed speculation by lepidopterist Lincoln Brower, zoology professor at the University of Florida. He points out that most butterflies in the subfamily Danaiinae (to which the monarch belongs) are tropical, and cannot survive a cold winter - not as eggs, larvae, pupae, or adults.

On the other hand, monarchs eat only milkweed, and it’s a particularly widespread plant farther north. Brower suggests that back in the glacial epoch monarchs began migrating farther and farther north to take advantage of that food supply, without cutting ties to their southern home. (Read the rest …)

Over 50,000 birders — beginners, professionals, and everyone in between — are polishing binoculars, pouring over maps, and getting ready for the 2006-2007 Christmas Bird Count. Last year 57,156 individuals took part in this annual event. That’s quite a change since the first count in 1900, when 27 individuals were involved.

Each year the results of this group effort go into an ever-expanding database that catalogs the rise and fall in the numbers of species of birds across the land. It’s not just the individual species, but also the actual numbers of each type of bird. Although not limited to the United States, last season the US count was 57,357,023 individual birds in 652 species.

Each official counting area is 15 miles in diameter, and the actual count includes every bird found within that area in a specific 24 hour period. The counts must take place between December 14th and January 5th.

Planners of these events make sure that the participants cover all the habitat’s within the count circle, and that some of the searchers are out early enough to catch the owls while they are still active. If there are some hard-to-find birds that have been seen recently, you can be sure someone has staked them out, because if you don’t find them on the official day, it doesn’t count.

If you have never participated in a Christmas Bird Count, it’s a great way to meet fellow birders, whether you have lots of experience or are just starting out. Those with less developed birding skills are paired with seasoned veterans, which is a great way to learn more about bird identification.

To find a bird count near you, including contact information, go the this National Audubon website and enter your state.

The Sibley Guide to Birds

Moving south for the winter isn’t a new idea - we humans were just a little slow catching on. Many creatures migrate to a more comfortable climate each year, but it’s the birds we notice most. Few people who spend time outdoors could fail to notice the disappearance of robins, or the passage of Canada geese, honking their way along avian freeways of the sky.

Bird migration has always fascinated man. Maybe it’s the thought of birds’ freedom to travel where they want - when they want. With a recreational vehicle we duplicate their movements, but the mystery of migration remains.

Like their human counterparts, birds migrate at varying speeds for varying distances. The arctic tern used to be considered the long distance champion. Not satisfied with a single summer each year, it flies all the way to Antarctica for a second summer, making a round trip of 22,000 miles. Now the record seems to be held by the Sooty Shearwater.

A banded ruddy turnstone traveled from Alaska to the Hawaiian Islands in only three-and-a-half days. An even faster trip was that of a lesser yellowlegs. On a 1,900-mile journey from Cape Cod to the West Indies the bird averaged over 300 miles per day.

Since the purpose of migration is to move to a more comfortable climate, the direction doesn’t have to be south. For birds that live on a mountain an alternative direction can simply be down. Mountain quail nest as high as 9,500 feet in the western United States. As cold weather approaches they move at least halfway down the mountain for the winter. But quail, being quail, do it differently. Single file, in small groups, they walk down the mountainside. (Read the rest …)