Nature Walk #1 – Hawks, Epiphytes, Woodpeckers and Orchids
As an actively researching scientist, I generally call this blog a "science blog." However, I would argue that most scientists are first and foremost "naturalists." As such, much of my time outside of the lab is not necessarily spent dwelling on all the intricate details of my own research (I try to limit how much "work" I actually bring home - though it is rarely further than a few action potentials away from consciousness). No, much of my time is spent pondering and observing nature. My drives to work usually consist of me staring out the window looking for red-tailed hawks, deer, and any of the other wildlife common along NC backroads and interstate 40, with occasional glances back to the road and traffic.
The point is: I love nature. Paying attention to it is first-nature to me, having been raised as a country boy in the Ozark mountain forests. It is for this reason that I also consider this a "nature blog." In fact, I recently joined the Nature Blog Network - THE community for nature bloggers - which was created by the wonderful Mike Bergin of 10,000 Birds and I and the Bird fame (note: Mike is in Guatemala at a birding conference right this minute - be sure to look out for what is sure to be an amazing photography collection and story when he returns).
In tribute to my own inclusion in the Nature Blog Network, I give you the first in a series of posts consisting of my own observations from taking walks into nature. I've been posting similar things for a while now (check out the SWEET footage I got of a Great Blue Heron with a catfish recently), but I'd like to make this a formal posting event for me - especially since spring is looming and I will no doubt be making many forays into the natural world.
Although it is still very wintery here in North Carolina and wildlife is relatively sparse (I miss the bugs and other invertebrates...) there is still much to see if one looks closely enough.
Red-Shouldered Hawk (Buteo lineatus)
In fact, I had barely stepped outside my front door when I saw one of my all time favorite creatures: the red-shouldered hawk (Buteo lineatus). When I was a small child I read some tale of a now-forgotten Native American and his spirit or guardian animal - the red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis). Ever since then the hawk has been one of my favorite animals. If I had a "spirit animal" it would be a hawk. Yes, it's insanely silly, but I always pretend like it's a good luck sign when I see one - the key word here is pretend. Really, I love all raptors.
As I walked down my driveway, I heard a squawking sound coming from my neighbors yard. When I looked up, I saw two red-shouldered hawks - one in a nest and the other in a nearby tree. I quickly tried to photograph them, though they were still about 40 yards away. I have a great digital camera, though it is NOT a professional DSLR. However, the 12X optical zoom and decent manual options are more than good enough for me until I have cash to burn.
As soon as I snapped the pic above, both of them took flight. I tried to get an in-flight shot, but the one below was the best I could do in the 1.5 seconds I had before they were gone. Luckily, it was good enough for me to identify it as a red-shouldered rather than a red-tailed. My neighbor (Flyzeyes, who has some pretty awesome nature photography himself) and I both hope that the nest is theirs and that they will return - we shall see.
Red-shouldered Hawk in flight - barely got it.
I mosied on past my neighbors house and through the woods behind it, where a small pond lies hidden within the forest. The pond is surrounded by beaver-chopped trees from last spring. Here are two shelf fungus-laden remnants of the beaver's work:
To my mycologist friend, Southern Fried Scientist: Please identify...
Years of growth, felled by one small furry creature.
The pond overflows over a small levy into a large swamp below it.
Swamp
Flitting throughout the trees, flocks of tiny birds surround the entire marsh. I managed to get one decent picture (they tended to keep a good distance between them and me), and through my trusty bird guide I'm almost certain they were Swamp Song Sparrows (Melospiza melodia) Note: I had it wrong initially - so much for my bird ID skills... thanks to Mark Shields! The lateral eye-mark and streaked breast with dark spot in the middle is the give-away sign.
Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia)
The swamp was also surrounded by one type of bush (I have no idea what kind) covered with cool looking pollen pods (see my non-existent botany lingo and knowledge?).
Pollen pod? I'm sure there's a proper word for this... Update: their called "catkins" - thanks to Inoculated Mind (see comments)
One of my favorite things about wet areas (like swamps and marshes) are that there tend to be various epiphytic species everywhere (epiphytes = things that live on other things - usually on plants. Most are not generally parasitic, but just use plants for structure, though parasites like mistletoe are still considered epiphytic in habitat. Small plants, algae, fungi, and lichens are among the most common - or visible anyway - epiphytes).
I believe this is a lichen - I could totally be wrong.
Amazing structure...
I also managed to snap two different woodpecker species - both from fairly great distances, so the images aren't superb. I'm almost 100% certain of both of their identities. The first is a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (Sphyrapicus ruber), and the second is a Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus).
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (Sphyrapicus ruber)
Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus)
After watching the birds for a while, I made my way to my own back yard, where I found a returning Lamb's Ear (Stachys sp.)
Lamb's Ear (Stachys sp.)
And finally, I took a few photographs of one of two native North Carolina orchid species I've found on my property. The first is the Cranefly Orchid (Tipularia discolor). What's interesting about this species is that they only bear one leaf - and only in the fall/winter. Once flowering season arrives in the summer, the leaf dies and they send up a shoot filled with tiny flowers. In the fall, the flower stem dies back, to be replaced by the single lone leaf, which has a bright purple underside.
Cranefly Orchid (Tipularia discolor)
Purple underside
Unfortunately, after a while of searching I was unable to find any of the second orchid - which I know I had several of last year. This second native orchid is quite a beautiful plant - and it has an awesome name: the Rattlesnake Plantain - or Rattlesnake Orchid (Goodyera pubescens). We've had 2 years of pretty bad drought, and an unseasonably cold winter - so I am hoping they have not all died. Perhaps I will find more in the spring. Here's a picture of some I took last September. Pretty amazing foliage pattern, no?
Rattlesnake Plantain (Goodyera pubescens). Extinct on my property?
And with that, my first nature walk of the year is concluded. I cannot wait for everything to start blooming and for all the insects and other crawly critters come out of the woodwork. Keep an eye out here for more nature photos and stories to come...
If you know the identity of anything above, or if I've misidentified something, please let me know.
Pseudonymous No More – The Big “Reveal”
I've decided - it's time for me to come out of my pseudonymous virtual closet.
Earlier this year I attended the ScienceOnline09 conference - a conference attended by over 200 science bloggers, educators, journalists, and researchers.
One of the sessions concerned online identity and posed the question "should individual bloggers keep their online identity anonymous or pseudonymous, or should they consider it as an extension of their professional life, writing under their true identity?" Of course, each individual is different and there can be many real and valid reasons for not broadcasting one's true identity. Many people write about controversial subjects (particularly those writing on the incompatibilities or intersections of science and religion). Others simply write on topics that may conflict with their professional positions or institutional missions.
After much thought, I've decided that I do not see any of these reasons as applying to me or my writings. After the conference, Andrew, the Southern Fried Scientist, wrote an excellent piece concerning his own identity, essentially making the same arguments and coming to the same conclusion that I do here. I'll start by quoting Andrew, as I could not have said it better (it's hard to say anything better than he can say it):
"Two sessions that got me thinking about the direction of my own blog were centered around transitions in your blog as your career progresses and whether or not to maintain anonymity (and how one goes about doing that). For me, I’m using this blog as a tool to create a track record of public outreach and education, and to voice my opinions on various marine, mycological, and mundane issues. Since I’m using it as a mechanism for career building, I see no reason to be anonymous (in this case that would actually be counter-productive)."
I see this blog in very much the same light (minus the ocean and fungi). I do not write about the details of my current scientific research (that is, as a government researcher I make sure that there are no conflicts of interest between this blog and my job). I rarely talk about religion or controversial subjects these days (I have a few much older posts that delve into the subject and aren't particularly controversial, but I now try to strictly avoid it).
In fact, I think the goals of this blog and of my writings have evolved to become a critical aspect of both my professional and personal life: namely the goal of bringing the grandeur of nature and science to the masses. Most of my writings are of the general science and biology variety (such as my Adaptations of the Week), often written with the laypublic in mind.
I initially took the handle "Irradiatus" during the beginning days of widespread internet use (mid-nineties) - and I've used it ever since. I don't even recall where it came from. When I started this blog (or a version thereof under a different name many years ago), it was nothing but a mental release - just a fun, inane, ranting, and completely unread by anyone exercise in self-expression. Thus, I stuck to my handle out of habit and ease.
But no more.
Thus, I now announce that my real name is Daniel D. Brown (my name is too common to not include my middle initial).
*Cue psychologist wife: "you sound like a narcissistic crazy person." I'm not. I just thought it was a funny announcement.
I am currently a post-doctoral researcher at the National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences (studying brain development), and sometimes an Adjunct Assistant Professor of Biology at Elon University. I received my Ph.D. studying the genetics of heart development in the lab of Dr. Frank Conlon at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
I have updated my "About" page if you want more information. If you link or refer to me, I don't really care which name you use. I will still be posting under my handle (much as Andrew maintains his "Southern Fried Scientist" identity), but that's mainly because my real name is lame and common. Of course, most of my regular readers know my real name already, and most of you probably could care less who I really am anyway.
I and the Bird #94 – The Birder’s Report
For the first time ever, I have been included in the blog carnival for the birds: I and the Bird #94! And wow are there alot of people who are into birding! Each edition is jam packed with stories of birds, pictures of birds, and recipes of birds (not really).
So set aside some time over the coming days to peruse through the avian wonders. My own post on the Great Blue Heron and the Catfish is included in this 94th edition (with pretty cool videos).
Great Darwin Beard Challenge – Week 1
Okay, so technically this is Day 5 (I'm two days behind the other guys). But for consistency's sake, I'll just fudge the data a little bit and call it day 7, at the risk of looking relatively less manly.
This week's Great Darwin Beard Challenge update is hosted by Kevin Zelnio of Deep-Sea News.
Just to remind you:
"As some of you may know, Andrew, the Southern Fried Scientist, and Kevin Zelnio of The Other 95% and Deep Sea News have begun a Darwinian celebratory challenge of manly proportions. Between February 12th (Darwin’s 200th birthday) and October 1st (The 150th anniversary of the publication of The Origin of Species, according to the first edition cover) they will be evolving from relatively smooth-skinned baby-faced boys to hirsute woolly men in The Great Darwin Beard Challenge."
At least two Davids have joined in the competition as well.
Quote DSN: "Top Right - sexiest deep sea biologist, Kevin Z; Top Left - second sexiest deep sea biologist, Souther Fried Scientist; Bottom Left - just another sexy PhD candidate in deep sea biology, David; Bottom Right - not a deep sea biologist, but sexy nonetheless, Irradiatus from Biochemical Soul. Insets are from T=0." Personally I find my self esteem slightly lower when my face is placed next to these dudes.
Reminder:
"Now, as a normally bearded man, I would love to say that I’m gonna make it through this thing. However, my local environment will most likely soon be invaded by the new selective pressures of interviews and job talks (not to mention the already constant sexual selection pressures from my wife to maintain no upper lip hair). As such, I will most likely have to represent an extinction event in this Darwinian challenge. But I will continue for as long as possible."
The Great Darwin Beard Challenge:
Adaptation of the Week – The Aye-Aye’s Freaky Finger (I’ve Been Cursed by an Aye-Aye!)
"In the gloom it came along the branches towards me, its round, hypnotic eyes blazing, its spoon-like ears turning to and fro like radar dishes, its white whiskers twitching and moving like sensors; its black hands, with their thin fingers, the third seeming terribly elongated, tapping delicately on the branches as it moved along."
- Gerald Durrell, The Aye-aye and I
Aye-Aye Lemur (photo credit: ZSL London Zoo)
Imagine that you're a nocturnal prosimian primate in Madagascar some odd thousands of years ago. You've made a living eating insects under the bark of trees using powerful teeth to chew your way to your prey. There are no woodpeckers living on this giant island, thus many trees contain pre-packaged boreholes filled with tasty grubs. You can get to the grubs, but it requires some trial and error and alot of wasted gnawing energy.
Luckily some of your offspring are even better at finding the tree grubs, and even more adept at getting the little insects out of the holes. Generations pass, and before you know it, your descendants have become masters of the art of tree grub prospecting.
They have become the magnificent Aye-Aye lemur (Daubentonia madagascariensis)!
I was recently privileged enough to see the Aye-Aye in person at the Duke Lemur Center in Durham, NC (one of a small handful of places in the US where they can be seen).
In fact, I was cursed to death by one.
Aye-Aye Hand (photo credit: David Haring)
You see, the Aye-Aye has become so adept at finding insects in trees because of one singularly peculiar adaptation: it's third finger has become a skeletally thin and extraordinarily long hollow-space-detecting, insect-pulling device.
The Aye-Aye uses its long finger first to find the insect larvae - it gently taps the tree, using it's enormous and independently rotating ears to hear the hollow reverberation. Once found, it tears into the hollow area with its teeth. Now the finger shows its prime utility; the Aye-Aye inserts the skinny appendage into the hole, using its sharp claw to pull out the grub. In addition, it's knuckle joint is much like our ball-and-socket joints in our hips, making it all the more dexterous!
However, the Aye-Aye's adaptations to the tree grub lifestyle must be seen to be truly appreciated. Check out this amazing video, care of ARKive and BBC Motion Gallery.
And this one from 8thContinent:
Unfortunately, many of the Malagasy people of Madagascar do not quite see the beauty in this unique ability. The Aye-Aye is surrounded by several superstitious myths, including the belief that if an Aye-Aye points at you (which they are wont to do), you are cursed to death. Generally, if you see an Aye-Aye or if it shows up in your village - you and/or your village are cursed to death. As such, the Aye-Aye is often killed on sight.
I, on the other hand, considered it a blessing when we entered the Lemur Center's nocturnal habitat, the red lights turned on, and an Aye-Aye immediately began swiveling its long pointy adaptation at me and my wife. It was actually quite thrilling, considering that the tour guide had just told us about the myth.
However, with the help of the Duke Lemur Center's conservation and education efforts in Madagascar (and many other such efforts), some of the Malagasy people seem to be changing their views. The Aye-Aye is still highly endangered, but hope remains...
Previous Adaptations of the Week: