Figuring it out

I love field guides. I started off by borrowing my husband's Peterson's Guide that was given to him by his dad. Then a friend bought me my first flower field guide. I was off to the races after that. I have lots of field guides, and yet I don't have nearly enough. I have at least one field guide for each of the following subjects: butterflies, trees, mammals, wildflowers, birds, owls, reptiles and amphibians, insects, singing insects, tracks and scat, spiders, frogs and toads. I'm sure there's a few I forgot.

In instances where I have multiple field guides on one topic (birds, or wildflowers, for instance), each one serves its own purpose. Some of them are laid out so differently from each other, or contain such different information, that they complement each other nicely.

As much as I love my field guides, I will admit that they can be intimidating, especially when they cover a subject matter with which I am relatively unfamiliar (like anything that's outside of the realm of birds and wildflowers). This has been the case for me this year when trying to identify various spiders and insects. It reminds me of how I was when I first started birding: I would flip through virtually every page to find a bland brown bird that I had gotten a glimpse of for 2.5 seconds, only to find that every brown bird in the field guide looked virtually the same to my "new" birding eyes.

I figure it's frustrating for everyone at some time or another to use field guides, so I thought I would give you a quick run-through of how I narrowed the beetles in my previous post down to blister beetles (and more specifically, oil beetles).

First, I started off with a top-notch field guide to insects. If you spend any amount of time trying to figure out the identity of any kind of insect, BUY THIS BOOK:

One thing that I love about this book is what they call the "Pictorial Table of Contents." It not only lists the major groups of insects covered in the book, but it also gives a small photographic sampling of representatives of said group. Look closely at the shape and size of what is pictured, and you should quickly be on your way to the right portion of the book.

I had a good hunch going in that I was looking at some kind of beetle, and after looking at these quick visual representations of all the groups presented, I flipped with confidence to the beetle section, only to be somewhat daunted by 45 pages of photographs of many, MANY different types of beetles.

Looking at photos and paying attention to the description of the different families narrowed things down even further. For example, I knew that it WASN'T a type of lady beetle, nor was it an aquatic beetle, nor a stag or rhinoceros beetle. (Remember, knowing what something isn't can get you a long way toward what it actually is.) There was a good-sized section devoted to ground beetles, which I thought was a possibility, but none of the body shapes or sizes matched up to what I was seeing. As I got into the last quarter of the beetle section, I came upon the blister beetles. I finally had a visual match. There was mention of foliage feeding. Check. Then the specifics were spelled out for oil beetles, of which there are 21 species across North America: flightless ground-dwelling adults with short wing covers and bloated abdomens. A perfect match to what I was looking at. Oh, and there was mention of that funny kink in the antennae of the males. Bingo! Now, I ventured to guess the specific species as Meloe impressus, based on this guide and also photos shown on bugguide.net, but the jury is still out on the definitive ID of this blister beetle.

My trusty Kaufman guide also lead me to ID this fantastic metallic-looking beetle as a Dogbane beetle, which was found on - you guessed it - a dogbane plant.

So folks, I'd like your feedback. Was this post helpful and/or informative? Would you like to see more posts like this? I do write this blog for me, but I also like to know if what I'm putting out there is striking a chord with anyone else. Please let me know in the comments! Thanks.

My attention, divided

It was Friday, our next to last day at the New River Birding and Nature Festival. On one hand I was tired from a week so full of activity and learning, but on the other hand, I was not ready for this week to end. For one thing, I had spent very little time wandering the property of Opossum Creek Retreat. Nestled back in the woods, there was plenty to see just within a short walk from our cabin.


Our cabin at Opossum Creek. It felt just like home (except substitute oaks and maples for all the hemlocks).
Granted, I had poked my nose and my camera here and there, but there was still much more wooded bliss to be explored. One thing that both Nina and I wanted to check out was a small colony of Pennywort Gentian that was verified to be in flower by our buddy Jim McCormac. He gave us some rather cryptic directions as to where to find the colony on a hillside above the laundry facilities ("There's a downed log with a long stick propped up against it," he said. Sorry, Jim, but there were LOTS of downed logs with what appeared to be long sticks propped up against them!). Eventually, we found the little white beauties poking their heads out of the leaf litter. Nina and I spread out to each find our own little patch of flowers to work with (you can see Nina's Pennywort Gentian photos, along with a Blue-grey Gnatcatcher and a teeny, tiny spider HERE).

Pennywort Gentian, Obolaria virginica

Twin Gentians
I was supposed to be concentrating on the gentian, but I kept getting distracted by the delicate, fragile, skeletal remains of decomposing leaves.


This lacework is all that's left of a leaf in the process of breaking down, giving of itself back to the soil. Notice in the bottom of the photo a new Pennywort flower attempting to break through the leaf litter.

Same leaf, different angles

Even while the flowers bloom, the leaves vie for my attention.

Never have I seen the process of decomposition look so beautiful.
And so it goes, a quick walk in the woods to find one thing...

... quickly turns into a journey into a completely different world.

And so it goes.

The magic of Cranberry

Dawn on this early May morning was chilly. Frost warnings had been issued the night before, and at breakfast we heard about how snow had accumulated overnight in the higher elevations of the West Virginia mountains. Bundled in as many layers as I had packed, I still found myself shivering under the cover of the pavilion where we all gathered to share a hot meal, coffee, and a mutual lack of sleep. Soon we would load up our buses for another day of magnificent birding.

This was the day of the festival that I looked forward to the most. An entire day spent in one location: Cranberry Glades (or just "Cranberry," for short). At an elevation of 3400 feet in the Monongahela National Forest, Cranberry Glades is a cluster of bogs with habitat and boreal conditions akin to what you might find in more northern climes such as New England or Canada. As we drove into the visitor's center, we saw on the ground some of the snow that we had heard about at breakfast. Snow-capped trees were also visible on the mountain tops that formed a ring around us in the bog.

There is a quarter-mile boardwalk that allows for safe passage over the delicate ecosystem of the bog. It took our group 3 hours to cover this short distance. In that time we thoroughly examined every aspect of the bog that caught our attention, and probably could have stayed for many more hours without having even scratched the surface of the abundance of life that could be found there.

Ravens called and played overhead. We were accompanied by the persistent and plaintive YANK YANK YANK calling of a Red-breasted Nuthatch. Warblers were abundant, to the point where we were saying, "Oh, it's just another Blackburnian [Warbler]." Rare and intriguing flora surrounded us on all sides. We were in a biologically lush paradise.



Bog Rosemary

Green Hellebore

Bartram's Serviceberry

Lichen dotted tree branches at every turn.
The birds were relatively close, and mostly easy to spot. Swamp Sparrows popped up and sang on the first stretch of the trail. A sassy male Golden-crowned Kinglet flashed his firey head crest at us, incensed that we were intruding on his territory. And those darn Blackburnians were everywhere. I didn't bother keeping a list of the birds that day, though. There were too many strange things underfoot that I had to keep track of, things I'd never seen before.


Corallorhiza trifida - A coralroot orchid, commonly known as Early Coralroot or Yellow Coralroot.

These ferns may look like they are headed for the grave, but they are just emerging.

Others are more obvious in their emergence, looking as if they are dancing or preparing for an embrace.
After lunch, we continued exploring the area, taking part in some roadside birding and botanizing. The pace of the entire day was relaxed and peaceful, but each new plant or bird that we found left me feeling more alive and exhilarated. This, after all, is where the Black-throated Blue Warbler showed himself to us, and made me stop short. There was no denying that this place was magical.


Swamp Saxifrage, with the glittering diamonds of a running creek in the background.

Dwarf Ginseng
I'm guessing that most natural places would reveal themselves to be magical, if we were able to spend enough time getting to know them. It is wonderful to be allowed to take your time with a place, with a plant, with a bird. To move slowly through it, absorbing things at the pace your consciousness deems appropriate - for the consciousness knows that these things are meant to be savored. Walk for a while, and then be still. Walk again, be still again. Internalize all these wondrous items of unique beauty that abound - items to which we have given names, and items which we try to describe in superlative terms, but which, honestly, are beyond any description that we can dream up. Slow your breathing to the rhythm of the breeze, let your eyes glaze over, and begin to blend in and become a part of something beyond yourself.


I know a place has left its mark on me when I find myself not wanting to leave, and after I have left, I continue to think about when I might revisit it. Cranberry, we shall meet again.

Curious people are my favorite

For those of you who haven't been paying attention, I'm currently in West Virginia at the New River Birding and Nature Festival, a week long festival of blissful birding, botanizing and other enjoyments of nature, ecology and natural history.

There are many, many great aspects to this festival, one of which is that we all have one thing in common: a curiosity for the natural world. It might be just birds, or birds and plants, or birds and plant and moths... no matter what the subject matter is, everyone is here to learn something and see something new, and to experience nature in all her glory.

Since I am naturally very curious myself, it makes sense that I like to hang out with other folks who are curious, too. When the curiosity is over a shared interest, then we understand perfectly why a group of people would choose to stand around and look up in the trees for a long, long time in search of a bird.

But for all the time we spend looking up in the trees for birds, we spend almost an equal amount of time looking at the ground for any number of things. Insects. Plants.

Nina photographing cinnamon fern fiddleheads.
Poop Scat.

Geoff Heeter photographs Jim McCormac photographing bear scat.
Not only do we look at poop scat (we need to be adult and professional about this, right?), we get EXCITED about it. This was a big fresh black bear pie. Our field experts estimated it was a few days old, and it was mostly comprised of leafy green vegetation. It didn't take long for the serious investigation to begin. You will notice in the photo above that the fellow in the top left corner is coming at the pile with a stick. It was by prodding into the pile that we could get an idea of what the bear had been eating.

Of course, when you have a find this good, you have to share it with everyone!


Our intrepid scat sniffer and co-trip leader for the day, Rudy Gelis. If you ever want to go birding in Ecuador, Rudy's your man.

So, yeah... curious folk are cool. So is this festival. I'll tell you all the other reasons why in the coming week.

With, not apart from

I was on a mission. There was a flower I had seen the previous evening that I had never seen before, and I wanted to get a picture of it. I grabbed my camera and my binoculars, put on my boots, and off I went to get my pictures. I walked deliberately through the field and into the woods. I had a destination in mind, but I wasn't absolutely sure where the flowers were, so I would have to pay close attention. I was very much aware of myself, of my camera, of my footsteps, of my destination. There was separation between myself and my surroundings.

Ground Ivy (or Gill-over-the-Ground) - Glechoma hederacea
I tried to walk softly and quietly, because I wanted to be able to hear the birds. They were quiet at first. I did, however, hear the creek running - a soothing sound. A sound to help me slow down. I stepped on ground ivy and a wave of minty odor wafted up to my nose. I stopped to bend down and inhale it more deeply. The evening sun was starting to fade, so I had to keep moving, but my pace lessened. Stop. Look. Listen. Smell. Keep moving, but keep noticing. Be open, aware, and receptive. I began to meld into the landscape. I was soon rewarded for my noticing. No, I hadn't found the flower I was seeking, but instead I happened upon the business of creation.

Snowberry Clearwing moths, mating - Hemaris diffinis
My first reaction was one of awe and immense gratitude. How lucky was I to come across this scene? This is, after all, not something you see every day: a pair of insects mating. I felt blessed to be able to observe them in this amazing but fragile state. Then there was the work of documenting what I saw. Thank goodness I had my camera with me! As I took photos, my brain started to process what I was seeing, wanting to put a name to it. What I thought at first to be bumble bees were, upon closer inspection, most definitely moths. But which species? With no field guide at hand, I knew I would have to research it later, so I let it go for the time being. After taking a few more photos, I gave them their privacy.

white deadnettle and purple deadnettle - Lamium album and Lamium purpureum
A quick meander away from the moths I found the flowers I was looking for: white deadnettle. It was mixed in among stands of purple deadnettle and readily stood out. Even though I was using my camera to get close to this flower, I did not especially take note of this tool in my hands. By this time, 20 or so minutes into my walk in the woods, I had become my senses. Even though I was aware that I was this person, sitting in the woods taking pictures of flowers and moths, there was also a feeling of belonging with everything around me. I felt that I was with, not apart from, the landscape that I was in. I was invited to have a seat and continue with this feeling. So I sat - I listened to the birds, watched the bumble bees and let my senses take over. I allowed myself to just be for a bit.

I've said it before, and I will say it again: we should allow ourselves to do this more often. I know I should, at least. To take time to get away from politics and money and our goods and possessions and just blend into the world around us. To be one with it. It is uplifting and refreshing. I am very fortunate to have woods and fields nearby and at my disposal whenever I feel like stepping into them. I acknowledge that not everyone has this luxury. Even if it's just a small patch of yard, a local park, a playground, a bike path, a lake - find a place that resonates with you, go there as often as you are able, and drink it in. And let it drink you in, too.


Dutchman's breeches (Dicentra cucullaria) and white trillium (Trillium grandiflorum)
After finding the white deadnettle and realizing I still had plenty of sunlight left for a leisurely return trip, I took my time the rest of the way. I stopped to cross the creek and look at the white trillium growing on the steep hillsides. I found, with effort, the Dutchman's breeches that had obviously been in peak bloom when I had seem them the day before. As dusk began settling in, the birds became more vocal, and I heard for the first time this spring a Wood Thrush singing. This beautiful song holds a very special place in my heart, and it always stops me in my tracks the first time I hear it each spring. If someone had come across me at that moment, they might not have guessed that I was listening to a bird sing. My hands were raised to my lips in a prayerful gesture, I was smiling and there were tears in my eyes. All my attention was focused on the ethereal notes of that thrush, an angelic voice to be sure. It was pure bliss.

As I emerged from the woods and onto the road, there was a spring in my step and not a cloud in my heart. I was at peace. I look forward to returning to that state again soon.

OCVN Killdeer Plains workshop

I have learned by blogging that there are lots of folks out there who are interested in the natural world, and that they engage themselves with the natural world in many different ways.  Some do it through art (painting, writing, photography, etc.), some do it through their day job (paid naturalists, wildlife rehabbers, etc.), some do it on the side as a hobby (bird watching, butterfly watching, vernal pool monitoring, etc.).  Regardless of how we each choose to connect with nature, it inevitably leads to us learn more about our particular interests.  Usually one little tidbit of knowledge hooks us, and we feel the need to keep the learning going and going.

This past weekend I kept up my end of that bargain by surrounding myself with 35 other Ohio Certified Volunteer Natruralists and 4 expert guides at Killdeer Plains Wildlife Area in Wyandot and Marion Counties.  We split our time between presentations and field work, spending 2 hours in the field to each hour of classroom-style background presentations.  The topics covered were plants, birds, beetles and butterflies.



Out in the field learning about plants from expert David Brandenburg (2nd from right).
Here in Ohio we are very lucky to have wonderful and talented experts in a wide variety of natural history topics who are willing to share what they know with those of us who still have a lot to learn.  David Brandenburg is the staff botanist at the Dawes Arboretum, and previously worked as a field botanist for the ODNR Division of Natural Areas and Preserves.  In April of this year his book, National Wildlife Federation Field Guide to Wildflowers of North America, was published.  The layout is unique in that plants are grouped by family rather than by color, and range maps are included along with color plates and descriptions.  I find the grouping by family to be especially helpful since I am finally getting a grasp on what types of flowers belong to what families - I would prefer to narrow a flower down to a particular family right off the bat rather than flipping through endless white flower color plates, for example.  Needless to say, I was very excited to purchase my own autographed copy directly from David himself.

Bob Placier lives in my neck of the woods and is an instructor of various natural science courses at nearby Hocking College.  He talked to us about birds, but he also he also teaches about ecology, conservation biology and environmental science.  Bob is a licensed bird bander and is a board member of the Ohio Ornithological society.  I hope to spend some of my volunteer hours in October and November working with Bob and his team when they conduct banding and research on Northern Saw-Whet Owls.

George Keeney opened up the world of beetles to many of us.  He manages the Insectary at Ohio State University, and is a research associate at the Department of Entomology at the university.  He has played an important role in the recent reintroduction of the federally endangered American burying beetle in such southeast Ohio forests as Wayne National Forest, Zaleski State Forest and Waterloo Wildlife Area and Research Station.  He told us a number of anecdotes that illustrated that researching and collecting beetles is not a glamorous job, but definitely one that is never boring (one such story involved exploding fermented raw chicken!).

Jim Davidson was our butterfly expert, and he went "old school" on us by using a slide projector to illustrate his presentation.  In this age of PowerPoint talks, it was a bit refreshing to see the slides.  Jim is a retired pathologist, and is the current vice president of the Ohio Lepidopterists.  We learned that the Franklin County Metroparks now owns one of his former properties and that this site is specifically protected as a butterfly preserve, one of few sites like it anywhere.  Jim sure knows his butterflies, and is able to identify many of them by sight from quite a distance.  (I will admit, though, to being distracted greatly by the birds during our butterfly walk... no disrespect to Jim.)

Jim McCormac, with whom many of you are probably already familiar, talked to us about a successful wetland restoration project that is located just a bit northwest of Killdeer Plains. The wetland has seen a dramatic increase in biological diversity since it was completed in 2005, and he showed us how many of the species that either breed or migrate through this wetland connect a small 500-acre portion of Ohio to points north in Canada and to locations almost to the southern tip of South America.  Jim also took us out for a night walk and helped us make some sense of all the singing insects.


When you attend workshops like this, you don't have to worry about looking silly when you tuck your pants into your socks in an effort to keep ticks at bay because everyone else is doing it, too.  And you don't feel at all odd for foraging for deer dung or a raccoon carcass in search of beetles because that's what you're there for!  Only the most hardy (or foolish) nature lovers would offer themselves to the mosquitoes and deer flies (because you can't possibly douse every square inch with enough bug spray to deter them) in order to attend a night "prowl" to bear witness to the vast array of night-singing insects and frogs.  We were all in it together, and I must admit the the sense of community that was present at this event was just as wonderful as all the knowledge gleaned.  I had a chance to see some friends from the blogosphere as well as a number of my classmates from the Hocking Hills region OCVN.

I should also mention that Rae Johnson and the Licking County OCVN were amazing hosts to us all, and I have to thank them for putting on such an amazing weekend!  Next up I'll show you how we went from classroom to field with plants.

A lovely day

We are experiencing a spell of Indian Summer here in southeast Ohio, and I knew that the weather was going to be excellent today.... clear skies and highs near 70 degrees. That means open windows, and even as I type I hear that cute little Golden-crowned Kinglet tsee-tsee-tseeing in the trees.

But the day got off to an especially wonderful start with some special sightings in the "yard".


I spotted this lovely doe from the kitchen window while I was doing some dishes.


Going, going, gone...
She didn't stick around too long once I came outside to photograph her, but that's okay. We made eye contact and enjoyed the smell of the crisp air together before she took off.


This cute kitteh also showed up in the driveway this morning. I've never seen it around before, so I don't know which of our neighbors it belongs to. I hope it moves on before Emmett becomes aware of its presence (although kitty could probably outrun our geriatric ol' boy).


Dark-eyed Junco, March 2008
Finally, I'm delighted to announce the return of the Dark-eyed Juncos to our yard! It's possible they've been around for a few days, but this is the first time I've spotted them. I saw at least 4 of them, and hopefully I'll see more when I start counting for Project Feederwatch next weekend!

AND... on a note completely unrelated to nature: I finally made a batch of pumpkin-pie flavored meringues this morning, a baking project I've been considering since this time last year. I'll let you know if they turn out, but so far it looks like they will be a success.