What's in a name?

Prairie grasses run alongside the raptor mews at the nature center. The small hillside is usually unremarkable - it doesn't have the variety of forbs that the main prairie does. Most days, I walk past it and don't really think about what's there. So, that's probably why I noticed something unusual on the hillside today. During lunch, I noticed some of the grasses bobbing up and down much more enthusiastically than could be produced by the existing wind. Riding the stems and pecking at the seed heads were small birds - about a dozen of them.

The rusty cap and white on the wings helped me identify these birds: American Tree Sparrows. They're about 4" long and have a gray stripe between a black eye line and the rusty cap. They look a lot like chipping sparrows, but have a dark mark on their chest. (Notice it on the middle bird?)

When the early settlers first saw these birds, they thought they were seeing tree sparrows like those in Europe. But, as often happened, the European version was a totally different species from the North American one. This bird - the American Tree Sparrow - doesn't like trees! 

It gathers and feeds in open areas or where there are grasses and seedy plants. We're likely to spot them in winter when they move as flocks. They rarely eat at feeders, so that's why I didn't recognize this species. My backyard has lots of trees and shrubs - ironically the absolutely wrong habitat for tree sparrows. I'll keep my eyes open for them at work, since they won't be interested in my yard. 

Trampled by ...Squirrels

My backyard is covered in snow. Wednesday night it was pristine - a white blanket covering the shrubs and grasses and camouflaging the structures. It looked lovely. Thursday morning the snow was dotted with a few tenacious maple leaves, finally ripped from the trees by the strong overnight winds. But the snow was still a smooth coating over the yard. And then - Thursday afternoon: the lovely smooth surface of white was gone. There was almost no spot not stepped on, run over, or schmushed. It had been trampled - trampled by squirrels.

I've noticed more squirrels in the yard lately. It's not unusual to see six or seven at at time. And they're usually chasing each other. So, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that there are tracks everywhere. It's a record of the squirrel movement throughout the backyard  over the course of a day. It might have been neat to have a camera out there recording the movements over the course of the day, but for now, here's the final view.

Signs That It Isn't Fall Anymore

 I found out in the past week that fall headed into winter sooner than I planned. There have been lots of signs that it was coming - the last of the leaves fell from the maple trees this week. All the other trees are bare, except for the ironwood in the front yard. Maybe they're like oak trees and hold their leaves all winter, dropping them in the spring to suppress competitive growth from understory plants.

Male goldfinches have molted to their drab winter coats and the juncos seem to have settled in. I packed away the garden tools and got the snow shovels ready.

There's ice on the ponds - a smooth, solid surface, but not thick enough to walk on yet. Unless you look at my rain barrel. I went to empty it yesterday and there had to be at least ten inches or more of water inside that is frozen solid. Note to self: Always drain the rain barrel by the beginning of November unless you want a very small ice skating rink.

Then I thought I should put out some of the Christmas decorations. We usually decorate one of the big flowerpots with spruce tips and red osier dogwood branches. It's simple - just push the ends of the branches into the soil. And it might be that easy if only the soil wasn't frozen solid. It took four kettles of boiling water to soften the dirt enough to be able to shove the spruce and dogwood deep enough for them to stay put. Note to self: Decorate the pots by the beginning of November.

Tomorrow is the first of December: the beginning of meteorological winter. Yah - it will really be winter. But I already guessed that given the ice and frozen pot.

Another World

I'm in Reno, Nevada, for a few days for a conference. (And no, I'm not the gambling type so the casinos don't really appeal to me. They are noisy and smoking. Ugh.) The view flying in revealed a landscape so different from what I'm used to in Minnesota. Now granted, everything was snow-covered as I left yesterday - just a light coating. But here, the land is stark. Very little green and very few trees. But there are the mountains - lots of mountains. So different - so bare and brown - but still fascinating.

One Fell Swoop

A sign of the season - leaves falling. Usually you'll see them drop one at a time, twisting and turning in the air as until they fall to the ground. On especially windy days, it can look like snow with all the leaves swirling about. But once in awhile, a tree responds differently to fall's call. Once in awhile - all the leaves drop in fell swoop. Just like the tree in the picture.

In the morning, the tree had most of its leaves. But when I saw it in the afternoon, the ground was covered with branches. They all must have dropped in a very short amount of time. And without waiting to change color.

Fall is like this - sometimes it is long and lingering, mild weather for days on end. And then - abruptly - cold winds and cloudy skies take over. A sign that winter is not far off. But then, neither is spring!

A Sure Sign of Fall

Cutting the grass in the backyard on Sunday, I heard a chipping sound. Not chipping sparrows. Not house sparrows or house finches. Could it be? Nah...

Then I spotted it - flying up from the ground to the fence. Small, gray above, white below with white on the outside of the tail. Yep - it was a junco.

According to the phenology records I keep, juncos show up on average about October 6. The latest I've ever waited for them was October 18 - the earliest September 23. So, it's not too unusual that it took until the 13th.

Juncos - snowbirds. Seeing them means it is definitely fall and the snow isn't far behind. I guess I don't mind that it took so long. We've had day after day of above average temperatures which made up for the endless winter last spring. (You remember? Snow in May?) So, I guess we deserved a lingering autumn even if it means some of our fall friends are showing up later, too. The juncos will be here awhile (a long while? )

Fall on the Prairie

Looking across the prairie yesterday, I realized it was a fall prairie. The prairie of fall has its own beauty, but a sad kind of beauty as it heralds the changes to come.

The grasses are no longer green. Instead, stalks of reddish-brown wave in the wind. The oranges of butterflyweed and purples of bergamot and anise hyssop are faded to tan and white.

The prairie sounds different, too. There are more crickets and grasshoppers singing - singing their final songs before dying. The wind rattles the dried stems and leaves of the cupplants.

And that wind carries a hint of the winter that is to come - even on a day like yesterday with warm sunshine, you can tell that winter is just out there. Waiting...

Turkey vultures and geese flew over, heading south. Goldfinches "po-ta-to chip"ped above, rising and falling on invisible trails across the prairie as they trekked from one side of the woods to the other.

Fleeting - enjoy the beauty of fall while it is here.