Wildlife Watching Tip: Look for the Little Guys

A distinct lack of wildlife... but appearances can be deceiving!

All wildlife watchers have run into this problem before: where the heck is the wildlife? You started out on the trail eager and excited with your binoculars and camera in hand.  But a few hours later you came back sweaty and disappointed.  Nothing interesting showed its face, not a single deer, fox, raccoon, snake or even rabbit. You encountered a million mosquitoes, but the biggest animal you saw was a gray squirrel just like the ones you see in the back yard. It's very discouraging, especially if you’re trying to encourage a love of nature in any reluctant companions.  But there are a few tips  I’ve picked up in my own nature explorations.  Since one of my goals with this blog is to get other folks outside and enjoying nature, this entry is the beginning of a series of wildlife watching tips.

The first secret to wildlife watching satisfaction is to expand your definition of wildlife.  You’re probably walking past tons of wildlife and you don’t even know it. Instead of grumbling, "Where'd the wildlife go?" you can discover all the bizarre but tiny creatures that lurk nearby. I still love seeing big charismatic and/or cute animals too, but they're often really hard to find. They may be nocturnal, or are just very shy, and especially if you have kids with you it’s hard to be quiet enough to sneak up on them.  Even birds are tough sometimes.  They're great fun to watch, and are certainly easier to find than most of the larger wild animals that live in my area. But often they too are frustratingly hidden, even taunting me from high leafy treetops. So my latest strategy for trailside happiness is something on an even smaller scale.  I'm watching bugs and spiders!

The Rabid Wolf Spider, totally harmless to humans.

A Flower Longhorn beetle.

Many of the spiders and insects that I have found trailside are beautiful, weird, and totally fascinating.  They’re small and unobtrusive, but there’s actually just as much color and conflict in the insect world as in the world of larger animals. Until recently I had focused my insect interest almost exclusively on butterflies.  Then this summer I decided to look a little deeper. During the past couple weeks I’ve found some weird and wonderful beetles, spiders, dragonflies, and many others that I can’t even identify yet.

Pink-spotted Lady Beetle. Also known as: "Wow, a pink ladybug!"

I have no idea what this bug is. It's pretty fierce looking but only 3/4 inch long.

The best places to look for bugs tend to be meadows and marshes.  Marshes are abuzz with dragonflies and damselflies, all hunting prey, pursuing each other, mating and laying eggs.  If you’ve ever seen a dragonfly repeatedly dipping the end of her tail in water, you’ve watched her lay eggs.  Dragonfly and damselfly nymphs grow up underwater, voraciously hunting other aquatic bugs and tiny critters just like the fierce predators they’ll be as airborne adults. When they’re mature they crawl out of the water and molt into adult form.

There were tons of dragonflies and damselflies in this marshy spot.

An Eastern Amberwing at rest, along with unidentified damselflies.

A female Ebony Jewelwing. Males don't have the white spots on the wings.

These two male Amberwings were chasing each other all over the place.

Meadows with their numerous wildflowers are chock full of insects like beetles and butterflies eating sweet flower nectar, munching on succulent leaves, or hunting other bugs, to say nothing of mating and laying eggs.  The best weather for bug hunting is a sunny, calm summer day.  The warmth of the sun will bring out more bugs than you’ll get on a cloudy day, and a calm windless day is ideal so the bugs themselves aren’t sheltering out of your sight.  But even cloudy or breezy days can hold lots of amazing bugs. Many of this entry’s photos were taken on a totally cloudy day.  

Streamside meadows are ideal for bug watching.

I found a lot of mating bugs recently too, like this pair I couldn't identify.

Hummingbird Moth enjoying the milkweed flowers.

I do recommend using a good set of close-focus binoculars if you want to go bugwatching, by the way. You'll probably be able to get within a few feet of most bugs, but some of them are so small you'll still need help getting a really good look. A magnifying glass may come in handy too.

I have no idea what this tiny bug is! Very weird looking. It jumped, too.

Of course some insects will sting or bite, so please be sensible and use caution. Also, I apply plenty of bug repellant when I go hiking since mosquitoes and ticks are vicious in my area. But I’m careful to keep the repellant off my fingers and palms so that if I do touch a bug, say a sleepy butterfly, a praying mantis, or a brightly colored beetle, I won’t cause them any harm.  I hope you will consider doing the same if you go bug hunting.

And of course, the best part of bug watching is even when you're looking for the little guys, sometimes you'll get lucky and still see one of those bigger animals too. Hooray for watching all of nature!

I was totally exhausted and heading back to the car when I saw this buck.

 

Happy wildlife watching!

Today's site: Lake Frank, Rock Creek Regional Park, Derwood, MD

Eye Candy

As I mentioned in my last post, milkweed has come into bloom at Lake Frank.  Butterflies are just going nuts over it, and I admit I'm fond of the heady fragrance myself.  Here for your viewing pleasure are some of the  butterflies and birds I encountered near the milkweed stands on Monday and Tuesday.  One of these days I've got to convince some milkweed to grow in my own yard!

Silver-spotted Skipper on an unidentified flower near the milkweed.

Spicebush Swallowtail basking in a sunny glade beside the trail.

Great Spangled Fritillaries-- the most common butterfly at the milkweed right now.

Northern Pearly-eye in another trailside spot of sun.

A banded House Wren. Wonder who's doing the banding around here?

This sleek Eastern Kingbird scoped out the multitude of bugs near the milkweed.

A Comma looking for tasty salts on the gravelled trail.

This bouncy Little Wood-Satyr only held still long enough for ID and a hasty photo.

This entry's park: Lake Frank, Rock Creek Regional Park, Derwood, MD

My (unintentional) Off-trail Adventure

A perfect day for a hike!

It’s been gorgeous this week, with cool nights and slowly warming days, temps peaking barely in the mid 80s. I visited Lake Frank on both Monday and Tuesday. The first day I focused on some blooming milkweed and their attendant butterflies (more on that in a later post). But the next day I came back with a specific goal: I wanted to hike all the way around the lake-- none of this hiking part way and turning back.  In order to do this, I had to bypass my normal “stop and look at everything” philosophy.  Usually I let myself get distracted by things like tiny wildflowers, odd fungi or that secretive Ovenbird I just KNOW is around here somewhere. This time I wanted to explore beyond just my few favorite spots.

Map courtesy Montgomery County Department of Parks, www.montgomeryparks.org

Lake Frank has a somewhat confusing network of trails. There’s the formal park trails, usually well-kept, well-trodden and clearly marked. One section of the Lakeside trail is even paved. Then there are unmarked “connector” trails between the formal trails and nearby neighborhoods.  Both of these types of trail are indicated on the map.  But there are also unmarked fishermen’s access trails down to the water’s edge, plus the usual wildlife trails where deer have trodden recognizable if faint pathways.  Some of the fishermen’s trails are nearly as wide and well-used as the formal trails, while others are barely as wide as the deer trails.  So there’s a somewhat helter-skelter aspect to finding the trail at times. 

One of the semi-official connector trails.

The first and last third of my intended route are quite familiar to me, but I had never hiked the middle section. I had a copy of the map in my pack and thought my route would be straightforward.  Well, not quite.  The trails near a spot I’ve nicknamed the owl grove get hopelessly criss-crossed, and of course most of them are the unofficial or wildlife kinds.  I came to one fork where both paths looked well-trodden.  The right hand trail headed toward where I thought the owl grove was, so that’s the one I took. I followed it through the forest, up and down hills that overlooked the lake, and somehow completely bypassed the owl grove.

One of the nest boxes in the owl grove.

I’ve spent time in the grove before, but not recently, and apparently have forgotten the exact path to get there. After cresting a final hill I descended into a meadow that borders a stream.  I think I entered that meadow once a few months ago while searching for the year’s first spring peepers, but the grasses are now waist-high or taller and I was very disoriented.

I found several spots where I could be on the map.  My intended trail crossed a small stream, then followed a larger one, dancing between the stream’s edge and a meadow, finally crossing the large stream before heading back to the lake shore.  If I was at the big stream, I should keep the river on my right in order to go the correct direction.  But if I was at the small stream instead, I should keep the stream on my left until I reached the crossing.  I could hear children’s distant laughter to my left. Perhaps they were near the nature center and I should head that way, or instead they could be in one of the neighborhoods that border the park and thus be of no use for navigation. It wasn’t much help. I eventually concluded I was at the small stream since I hadn’t crossed any stream yet, or so I thought. I decided to continue to my right, after first checking out the meadow a bit.  I briefly followed the trail upstream, finding yet more milkweed and lots of neat bugs and birds.

Red Milkweed Beetle-- on milkweed, naturally.

Then I resumed hiking through the forest.  Suddenly the trail disappeared in scraggly underbrush.  Huh? I climbed a hill and discovered below me a section of lake shore that I recognized from two hours ago! I must have backtracked on yet another one of the deer trails. Arrgh. I returned to the meadow again. It was looking less and less like I would make a successful circumnavigation of the lake.

I tried once more to figure out where I was on the map.  It was just about noon, so I couldn’t use the sun to determine north.  (Apparently I need to add a compass to my hiking gear!) Finally I realized I could figure out my position and direction by just observing the stream. It seems so obvious now.  The way the streambed curved in front of me seemed on closer inspection to match one part of the map’s big stream. If I were there instead of at the small stream, then walking upstream would keep the river on my right and would put me on the right trail. Aha! I should have just kept going after my initial upstream exploration.  When I reentered the forest by hiking upstream I even found proper trail blazes again, the first I’d seen since way back at the initial trail fork. I’ve never been so relieved to see a simple trail marker before!

Hooray for trail blazes!

Knowing for sure where I was really cheered me up. I felt better with each recognizable landmark and especially the labeled trail intersections.  But then as I continued along, I noticed dark clouds starting to build.  Even if I knew exactly where I was on the map, I’d still be just as soaked if a storm caught me on the trail. I picked up my pace, and soon found myself on the paved part of the trail, right next to one of yesterday’s milkweed patches.  I knew I could make good time from here as long as I ignored the temptations of the milkweed. 

I don't like the looks of this...

When I finally made it back to the dam at the south end of the lake, I realized the dark clouds weren’t actually moving very fast.  I relaxed and took a slower pace the rest of the way to the car.  It didn’t even start raining until long after I made it home. Although I took more time than I’d hoped, and I walked quite a bit farther than intended with all the detours and backtracking, I still achieved my goal! I feel like overcoming my lack of navigation skills made it a bigger accomplishment than following the correct trail would have been. Plus, if I hadn’t done all the detours and backtracks, I wouldn’t have been in the right place at the right time to have these wonderful little encounters:

I found this Common Yellowthroat after my first upstream exploration.

This Wood Duck family explored the lake only briefly.

A  Hummingbird Moth joined the butterflies the second time I walked upstream.

I guess it’s like they say, the journey can be more important than the destination.  Of course the eventual destination is pretty crucial, like getting back to my car, but the quirks and mistakes in my route probably made the hike more fun than if I’d stayed on the correct trail the whole way.  Now to get me that compass, and try following the trail loop again soon!

Today’s park: Lake Frank, Rock Creek Regional Park, Derwood, MD

Wood Duck Motherhood

This weekend my husband and I strolled along the C&O Canal for a few miles, starting around Swain's Lock. At one point we were watching some Double-crested Cormorants congregate on rocks in the middle of the Potomac River. I was hoping for something unusual, maybe a breeding pair of mergansers since there are a few breeding pairs in the region.

Double-crested Cormorants, yawn.

I never did find any mergansers, but suddenly we spotted a mother Wood Duck paddling along with eleven tiny ducklings. Adorable! I snapped a quick photograph of the group, but as soon as I did that, Mama suddenly decided we were a threat. She started squawking loudly and paddled off double-time in the same direction, slapping her wings against the water as if she were wounded. The babies, however, took a sharp right turn and headed at an angle to their original heading. They paddled so fast their little bodies were half out of the water. As they escaped, the ducklings stuck together in a tight bunch.  What a neat way for Mama to distract a predator and send the babies to safety!  Here's the sequence of photos; apologies for the backlighting and general haziness of the images-- there was a lot of pollen in the air and on the water.

Before Mama knew we were watching...

Mama just spotted us and decoyed away to the left; the ducklings started their turn.

Mama's squawking far downstream by now; the ducklings keep hustling off to safety.

Pretty cool to watch the decoy technique in action! I've seen Killdeer parents try to decoy me away from a nest, but never Wood Ducks before. Motherhood is pretty powerful.

This entry's park: C & O Canal National Historical Park

It's Breeding Season!

It’s a good thing I spent a lot of time at Lake Frank last week, since this week I’ve been laid low by a nasty cold and can barely scrounge enough energy to weed my garden, let alone go hiking.  Spring migration is almost over around here, so I’m not seeing as many transient warblers or other pass-through migrants. But believe me, there is more than enough breeding activity to make up for it. Insects, birds, even reptiles are all busy finding mates, building nests and raising babies.  Here’s just a little of what I found:  

The trail I like at Lake Frank follows the top of a big embankment that’s a good spot for watching barn swallows, and on either side heads downhill into the forest.  There’s a big field on the far side of the embankment too, and that’s where I spotted an out-of-place Red-bellied Turtle.

Once I got a bit closer, I saw she had dug a shallow ditch and was busy laying eggs. She seemed calm and contemplative most of the time, surely concentrating on the process. Just before she actually laid an egg she elongated her neck and braced herself with her forelegs. The egg glistened wetly as it slid into the ditch, and was about the size and color of a ping-pong ball. Although I only waited around to see a single egg laid, I’ve read that Red-bellieds usually lay somewhere between eight and twenty eggs at a time.

Now, most of the turtle nests that I’ve seen before have been ransacked by local raccoons within about 24 hours. So the next day I came back to check on the nest site. Sure enough, it was destroyed.  One emptied shell was lying on the ground next to the re-excavated ditch, and a pile of fresh, seed-filled raccoon scat sat nearby like a calling card.  

It’s disappointing—I had kind of hoped to see the babies when they hatched—but not unexpected.  I console myself that the raccoon probably has babies of her own to feed too. I know the raccoons in my neighborhood have rapidly growing babies; a couple weeks ago they were about squirrel size. I saw them when the mother moved the three excessively cute kits from the den in my yard to somewhere in a neighbor’s yard.

Not far from the turtle field I also spotted a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher nest. I would never have seen the nest had the birds not been so noisy and attracted my attention in the first place. The nest is hidden from above by leaves, from below it looks like part of the tree branch since it’s made of lichens.  One bird was sitting on the nest when I initially spotted them, the other vocalizing and fluttering around.  They both took off long before I got my camera focused, of course. When I came back the next day, even though I knew the nest was there it still took me a while to find it again.  Were I a hungry predator I surely would not know there might be tasty eggs or chicks up there!

I really like Blue-gray Gnatcatchers, tiny active birds with a distinct wheezy call.  They’re kind of a signal of spring for me, one of the migrants whose arrival each year really marks the season.  Seeing their nest is new for me, though. I’ll keep checking on it over the next month or two. Maybe I’ll even get a glimpse of the babies once they hatch.

After several hours of hiking and lots more photos, my camera batteries were flagging (and I’d left my backup batteries at home, whoops).  I still had lots of energy though. As I neared a dead tree that was pocked with woodpecker holes, I heard a weird sound overhead, like a file rasping against wood.  I figured it was just a squirrel gnawing on a tough nut, but checked it out anyway. I looked up and saw a bird’s head peeking out of a hole in the dead tree about fifteen feet directly over my head —a young male Pileated Woodpecker!  That explained the fresh wood chips all over the ground; I’ve noticed that pileateds commonly throw big wood chips all over the place, whether they’re making a nesting cavity or just looking for food. It was the chick making that raspy sound, probably begging for food in hopes one of his parents was in earshot. Greedy little thing!

I walked around the tree to see if I could get a better view (no) and when I got back to my original spot I had another surprise: the first chick’s sister was looking around now too!

The birds are still fuzzy, although their adult feathers are mostly grown in.  I would guess they’re within a week or two of fledging. I had a great time watching them, and next day I came back with fresh batteries. (The male chick's picture above is actually from the second day.) This time I saw one of the parents nearby too.  The parent wouldn’t come much closer than about ten feet to the nesting tree while I was there though, so I never could get a decent view or photo of him/her.  Nor could I find any spots where I was far enough away for the parent’s comfort and still have any view of the nest cavity.  They really picked a good spot for privacy! Not fans of the paparazzi, I suppose.  Still, I had a really good time watching the babies.  I’m a sucker for a fuzzy face, even if that face ends in a big sharp beak!

This entry's park: Lake Frank, Rock Creek Regional Park, Derwood, MD

The Best Thing About Butterflies

To me, the best thing about butterflies is that they get up at a decent hour.  Usually early morning is the best time to hike if you’re looking for wildlife.  Take birds for example: they’re liveliest right around dawn. I know a lot of dedicated birders who think nothing of getting out the door at five am or earlier (on their day off, no less). I, however, am not a morning person-- and that’s putting it mildly.  It takes a couple hours of groggy consciousness and several cups of coffee before I’m safe to venture outside of the house. So I have a hard time chasing wildlife at oh-dark-thirty. But butterflies are after my own heart: they’re most active when the sun’s already been up a few hours.  Hooray!

When I discovered that butterflies keep a reasonable schedule I fell in love.  I have been photographing them for a couple years now.  The common image of butterflies is graceful bits of color drifting from flower to flower.  But it turns out that’s not the entire truth: some butterflies don’t actually drink flower nectar at all! They get their nutrients from things like mud, dung (yep, really), oozing tree sap, overripe fruit and even rotting carrion. So much for the delicate “I eat nothing but flowers” image!  Here’s a group of mud-puddling Eastern Tiger Swallowtails I found at Lake Frank, in Rock Creek Regional Park:

Even nectivorous butterflies like the Swallowtails also visit other sources for minerals.  I’ve read that males in particular need to visit mud seeps in order to replenish certain nutrients that they lose during sex.  So were these butterflies all post-coital studs, or maybe young bachelors anticipating hot dates? It's fun to imagine so, even though I know I’m anthropomorphizing just a tad.

Another convenience of butterfly watching that’s particularly nice on hot summer days is that you don’t even have to leave the shade to find them. I visited Huntley Meadows recently and found this bright Eastern Comma in the cool woods:

Commas are named for a white curlicue on the underside of their hindwings that looks like the punctuation mark.  Here you can barely make out the silvery-white C shape-- look to the right of the rearmost leg, halfway between the body and the edge of the wing:

I also found a Northern Pearly-eye a few yards further down the trail:

Both the Comma and the Pearly-eye are non-nectaring species. They were probably looking for some tasty mud along the trail. Sometimes you could be lucky enough to have a butterfly decide you make a good breakfast!  Many butterflies will land on your skin in search of your salty sweat. A naturalist’s trick that I have not yet mastered is to wipe a bit of sweat onto your fingertip to coax a butterfly onto your hand.  It never works when I do it deliberately, but sometimes a butterfly will surprise me. I had a Hackberry Emperor land on my pants leg once during a very warm hike at Sky Meadows State Park. Here you can even see its proboscis extended:

And one more butterfly from Lake Frank, a little Zabulon Skipper. Check out the cool way it’s holding its wings:

Grass skippers like the Zab often pose in this jet plane position, with their hindwings held more-or-less perpendicular to their forewings.  I don’t know why they do this-- maybe it communicates something to other grass skippers, since only species in the subfamily Hesperiinae do this. Grass skippers aren’t very big, at most an inch long, but they’re pretty common.  You can probably find them in your own garden or even on your lawn, or try a nearby park.  The jet plane posture is really something, and they’ll often pose obligingly for photographs. I’ve found grass skippers throughout Maryland and Virginia, and the maps in my Kaufman butterfly guide imply any location in the continental US will be in the range of at least one grass skipper.

Parks from this entry:

• Lake Frank, Rock Creek Regional Park, Derwood, MD
• Huntley Meadows Park, Alexandria, VA
• Sky Meadows State Park, Delaplane, VA

Check them out!