Nature is Amazing!

This really speaks for itself. Sit back and enjoy. You won't regret it.

The Beauty of Pollination

Great Salt Lake Bird Festival

In case you aren't also following the wonderful Summer of Salt - I'd like to invite you over for a look-see. The most recent post is by yours truly and discusses my experience helping out and leading several tours during the Great Salt Lake Bird Festival.

And while you're over there, check out some of the other posts that are up. This summer has just begun. There is so much more to discover and explore. So come back often.

Munchy Visitor

I didn't have to be to work until 10 am, so I fully intended on sleeping in. Then my boss sent me a text at 6:15 am with a question that required me to get out of bed and consult my schedule. I planned on going back to bed, but then I heard a quiet "woof"-like sound out the window. I thought maybe it was a young coyote, so I peaked out the window. But rather than a coyote, what I saw surprised me.

Up in the top of a Russian Olive tree was a large porcupine. Then as if to confirm to me it was the one who had made that sound, it did it again while I was looking at it. Very strange little sound. Very strange little animal.

Needless to say I didn't go back to bed. I sat there with my bins watching this little critter munching on the leaves, wondering how it avoided the sharp spines on this particular variety.

The only camera I have at home is my phone with no zoom, and I new I couldn't get a picture of it from where I was. So I just watched. When I wasn't watching the porcupine, my gaze fell upon three young fledgling magpies, and a couple of brightly colored warblers.

After a while, the porcupine slowly made its way down out of the tree, using its tail as an extra limb for support and balance.

When it reached the ground, it disappeared around the back of a large rock. I didn't see it emerge from the other side, so I figured it had hunkered down back there to take a little rest. That's when I decided to finally venture out and take a closer look.

Do you see it on top of the rock wall, near the tree?

I could see it from a distance away, and never having been all that close to a porcupine, I didn't know how close I could get before spooking it. So I cautiously approached, very slowly, not wanting to frighten it, or tick it off.

Still just laying on the rock, as if sunning itself.

Porcupines are mostly nocturnal. So they spend all night munching on leaves and grass, and then look for a quiet, protected place, sometimes in a log, or a tree, or apparently on a rock wall, to rest during the day.

It is totally just lounging around.

Finally caught a whiff of me and is searching the air trying to figure me out.

Porcupines have very poor eyesight. I was only a few feet away from it and the most it got was a slight smell of something curious. It didn't seem to notice me at all visually. So I decided to get a little closer.

Still totally relaxed.

Now its hackles go up slightly.

Once its hackles went up ever so slightly, I decided I was close enough and would leave it alone. So I backed up and decided rather than going all the way back around the wall like I had come, I would go over the wall. When I moved to the wall I apparently crossed directly into the breeze blowing past me and toward the porcupine. It suddenly had a clear smell of me, and immediately jumped up and fully extended every single (up to 30,000) quills on its body. It was a quick, and rather alarming sound to hear that movement and that quill extension. I jumped back from the wall very quickly, afraid the porcupine was going to run at me. But it didn't. It just sat there, quills fully and threateningly extended.

I got the message. I went back around the wall the long way.

Later that morning it had found a new resting place. Up in another nearby tree. The tree with the fledgling magpies. I don't think they appreciated having that prickly house companion. But there is stayed for the rest of the morning. By the time I returned from work, it was gone again. Off looking for another evening meal.

Doves

I spend my days off from work in my city home, off the island. Since the weather has been so nice, we sleep with the windows open. And so early in the morning the sounds of the birds (and the neighbor's fighting dogs) greet me. European starlings are always among those voices, sometimes American robins, and much more often lately has been the call of the dove - unfortunately it has been the call of the Eurasian Collared-Dove.

Not too many years ago, the only dove I'd hear in this neighborhood was the Mourning Dove.

Mourning Dove by Jim Huddle

 I love that sound. And I miss it. I haven't heard it in far too long.

Rather, the sound I hear now is the collared-dove.

Eurasian Collared-dove by Milt Moody

 While in and of itself, it isn't a bad sound, nor is it a bad looking bird, the fact that these birds have all but displaced the mourning doves virtually everywhere makes me annoyed when I hear their call.

The first sighting of a collared-dove in Utah was in May of 2000 and by March 2007 it was reported in every county. I remember a couple of years ago I was on a birding field trip and the leaders told us to watch for the collared-dove, as it was still quite rare and a treat to find. We didn't see any that day. However several months later I heard a new and unfamiliar coo-ing sound. At first I thought it was a mourning dove, but the pattern of the coo-ing was all wrong. So I looked it up. And sure enough it was the collared-dove. I was quite excited to have found one, as it was still not too common.

However, it wasn't long before that was the only dove I was hearing and seeing. The mourning doves had been displaced.

From birdsource.org: 

The story of the Eurasian Collared-Dove is captivating. A century ago, this species was found primarily on the Indian subcontinent, although its range extended slightly in Europe, in Turkey. In the early 1900s, however, the species began expanding its range significantly and by 1950 had reached the British Isles. Today, collared-doves are living above the Arctic Circle in Scandinavia.

Eurasian Collared-Doves were introduced into the Bahamas in the 1970s, and their populations soon expanded around these islands. What happened next was unclear. At some point in the 1980s, Eurasian Collared-Doves migrated, without assistance, from the Bahamas to Florida. And because they look much like the Ringed Turtle-Dove, the collared-doves started to spread unnoticed. It wasn't until the mid-1980s that ornithologists realized the suddenly prolific and quickly spreading "turtle-doves" they were watching were actually Eurasian Collared-Doves.

 So if you have doves in your neck of the woods, give them a good listen to see who's out there. If you still have the mourning dove, treasure that sound. It may soon disappear.

What I Know

I got on my bike this evening after work. It was the first time in several weeks due to my little lungs suffering through a bit of pneumonia.

As I drove home part of me wanted to bike, but most of me just wanted to crash in the living room and watch a movie. But something moved me along once I got home, and the next thing I knew I was slowly making my way along the dirt road from my house to the asphalt. This post was initially going to be me lamenting over the slow pace at which I had to ride over said dirt road, and the advantage the no-seeums took of that. And while I will be incorporating a head net into my bike accessories, the focus of this post changed while I was biking.

I realized I was no longer tired, but rather quite full of life and energy...and peace.

There are so many things in life over which we have zero or little control. The future and what that holds is one of those things. The future has been on my mind quite a bit lately. The future, and trying to figure out what it will look like, and what I need to do to get there, and how it will all work out. I have no doubt we all do that from time to time. But despite all our efforts and planning and scheming, the future is never quite what we expect.

I thought about this as I biked along the road, watching the incredible sunset that is so much a part of Great Salt Lake. And it occurred to me - I really have no idea what the future holds for me. None. There are too many unknowns. Too many variables. But what I do know is that it will include this...

Great Salt Lake Sunset

And this...

Biking

And this...

Antelope Island

My next thought goes right along with that - I have no idea who will be a part of my future. I have hopes, and wishes, and desires, but I really don't know. What I do know, and what was made very clear to me is that it will include them...

Thousands of birds

 

and Him...

The Lord

and yours truly.

Me enjoying birds, the sunset and biking

 That is what I know. This is what I felt quite clearly as I let the peace of the evening wash over me and settle into my heart and soul.

And so of course my future will also include moments like this...

Bison in a cabana

Summer of Salt

I have been asked to participate in the second season of the fantastic blog Summer of Salt.

If you've ever wondered what's so great about Great Salt Lake (or even if you haven't), this blog is for you.

I met with the main blogging crew this past week and we have a fantastic season lined up. Sun, salt, stars, hikes, tunnels, sailing, spiders, dusty roads, bugs and birds. It's all there and more. I look forward to getting to know Great Salt Lake, and the Summer of Salt crew, better. And I look forward to sharing it with you. 

So I hope you'll consider coming along this summer on our journey of exploration.

No-See-um Update

Well, hi. So less than 24 hours later I need to update the gnat info. They are now at the "drive you insane" stage.

I took a very brave and good-natured group out on a little adventure this morning down to the lake side. Once we got to the beach all was well. It was just traveling from the parking lot to the beach and back that gave everyone a wonderful taste (sometimes literally) of the extent of the gnats on the island. Everyone was covered in them. None of us had head nets. So all of us got swarmed and chewed on.

I've considered buying head nets for visiting school groups. I think I'll follow up on that idea.

No-See-ums

The biting gnats (no-see-ums) have been hatching for the past couple of weeks. For the most part they haven't really been a problem or noticeable at all. But today, they're noticible. Not enough to make you go mad, but enough to get your attention.

There are thousands of species that are commonly referred to as biting gnats, biting midges, or no-see-ums. What we think we have here at Antelope Island are Bodega Black Gnats. But the jury is still out on just exactly what we do have here. I mean, come on, with thousands of species, it's sometimes hard to narrow it down. Especially when the critter is mere millimeters in size. But here is what do know: they are very small and they bite.

But let me be perfectly clear - not every single insect a person encounters on Antelope Island is of the biting variety. We have many, many insects. There are four that are quite common: biting gnats, mosquitoes, non-biting midges and brine flies. There are others, like horse flies and such. But those four are the main attractions.

Biting gnats and mosquitoes, obviously, bite. While you can generally keep mosquitoes away with insect repellant, the gnats aren't bothered by it in the least. The solution for the gnats is a fine mesh head net. You may look funny to others around you, but believe me, they will be singing a different tune when they realize you are having a marvelous time on that hike, while they are being eaten alive.

The non-biting midges and the brine flies are quite harmless. They do tend to swarm in large numbers, but they don't bite. So how can you tell the difference between those that want to eat you whole, and those that could care less? Well, if you can see them, and they are in a large swarm, you are just fine. Remember, no-see-um perfectly describes the little biters - you can't see 'em. And mosquitoes, while they can be plentiful, don't generally swarm.

You will find the non-biting midges along the roads, generally, in large columns. Brine flies you will find along the beaches in staggering numbers.

Biting gnats you will find, well, just about everywhere. So go get yourself a head net, and come out to the Island anyway. This is a perfectly beautiful time of year.

And the birds are singing about it!

Badger

I saw one today. I was pretty shocked, and really wanted to jump out of my car and chase it. But I decided that might not be the best idea.

But there it was, running across the road just in front of my house. I stopped and watched it as it ran through the brush, stopped to look at me a couple of times, and then continued on out of sight. I was, and still am, pretty excited about that. We have indications that we have badgers out here, but very few people ever report seeing one. Now I can say we really do have them...well, at least one. :)

Males have a home range of up to 2100 acres, and female ranges vary from about 1700 acres in the summer, down to as few as 5 acres in winter. So, with that in mind, there may only be a few individuals on the northern 2000 acres of Antelope Island. And they are generally nocturnal. That may explain why they are so rarely seen.

Until this morning.

Wildlife Sightings

One of the things I love about Antelope Island is that the wildlife is so accessible. I love to be able to tell  visitors where they can go to see the bison or the pronghorn, and be pretty certain they will see something when they head out.

Quite often folks will come in just so excited to share that they saw a pronghorn right next to the road. Or a herd of  bison, or a rabbit. I was excited today when I found a barn owl nest, with the owl hunkered down low, hiding from our prying eyes. I'm not going to tell you where I saw it. You'll have to come out to the island, and then MAYBE I'll show you.

Speaking of barn owls, they are fast becoming my favorite owl. I think the reason may be because of the number of times I have had the opportunity to see one since I've been out here. Quite often in the morning I will startle or be startled by one hiding up in the rafters of the visitor center. I almost got splattered by one who seemed quite annoyed that I spooked him off his perch. This past winter I was frequented by a barn owl who would come and dine just outside my window on my window AC unit. He would leave castings, droppings and the occasional innards of a mouse.

Plus they're pretty owls, and exceptional hunters. When they are feeding a young brood, they consume an unimaginable number of mice throughout the summer for themselves and their young. That makes me happy for a number of reasons; fewer mice to invade my home, and plenty of castings (owl puke) for me to gather and use for educational purposes later.