Sunday, October 13, 2013

Avoiding those pesky hot-air balloon injuries!


 Rabies incidents from bats; not as much. During the past 50 years, only 48 U.S. residents, according to open records, contracted rabies from bats; that’s less than one per year. That’s less than the number of hot-air balloon injuries in the entire country during the same time period! (for comparison: in 2001 alone, 15,989 people contracted TB).
 Nationally, less than half of one percent of bats have rabies. Bats aren’t rabies vectors anyway (which is an animal that can transmit the disease without contracting it), and almost always die from it before infecting anyone.
 
Xeriscaping is not just rocks and cactus     In an effort to be ecological, some homeowners have replaced lawns with large patches of gravel.  All this does is create even more heat, which we don’t need in Texas. Good intent, but WRONG. Gravel and rocks tend to heat up the area including the soil. In turn, this actually increases water and energy use since water now evaporates faster, and the well-intentioned owner uses air conditioners more.
The increased heat activates dormant weed seeds beneath the gravel. It quickly becomes riddled with weeds and spotty grass clumps (which break through to the sunlight), becoming a big maintenance problem.
Most species of cacti don’t do well in north Texas, anyway.  Ground covers and tall, prairie grasses are far better Xeriscaping tools, and are much more ecological. They’re better for birds too. I have a list of good “birdscape” plants (that grow here with minimal effort), I’d be glad to share with you.

 

 

OWEN YOST, in addition to being a blogger, is a licensed Landscape Architect emeritus who has lived and worked in north Texas for over 30 years. He is a member of the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA), International Federation of Landscape Architects, National Wildlife Federation and the Audubon Society. His office is at Yost87@charter.net in Denton.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

migrating birds need "waystations"


Just passing through: 
Black-headed Grosbeak & Lazuli Bunting
Every year many, many unusual birds from all over this continent stop awhile in north Texas during the fall migration period. These are birds like the Lazuli Bunting and Black-headed Grosbeak (pictured) etc. that are flying south from up north. They want and need breaks from a long migratory flight.

 Almost all birds fly in stages, stopping several times along the way to rest and refuel. What they want most is fresh food to get their energy back up. You might see something like a Rose-breasted Grosbeak that departed from, for instance, Ohio. Some species (like Goldfinch and Junco) come to this area, and stay for the mild winter (this is the south after all).

Setting up a waystation for migrating birds is amazingly simple and  very productive.  Several people have had Baltimore orioles visit their waystations. They’ve seen warblers that aren’t normally here too.

You probably have some parts of a waystation already. It can have any number of appearances, but a proper waystation is simply a grouping of at least three feeders (each offering a different kind of seed), safe cover and water (yes, even in cool weather) for birds taking a break. You could even add orange-halves for orioles. Plants that stay green well into winter should be in abundance. All should be within an area about 10 ft. by 10 ft. Migrating birds look for all these things, together.

The period of fall migration extends from early September to mid-December. Many migration routes pass through north Texas. A group of birds may take a slightly different route each year.  One thing is certain however. Each bird appreciates “waystations” enroute. The size of the yard a waystation’s in doesn’t matter much. He or she can use even tiny waystations to fuel up, get much-needed water, and rest up (perhaps for a few days) before continuing.

For most birds, the actual migration flights occur in the cool of the night, since birds navigate by the stars, so we may not see them in flight. Also at night, there are few predators and the winds are more predictable. Their migration is governed entirely by the changing length of daylight, the sun's angles along their flight paths and the position of the stars.

So, put out a well-stocked waystation during migration periods. Then sit back and look for some “non-Texas” birds as they migrate through north Texas.



 
OWEN YOST, in addition to being a blogger, is a licensed Landscape Architect emeritus who has lived and worked in north Texas for over 30 years. He is a member of the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA), International Federation of Landscape Architects, National Wildlife Federation and the Audubon Society. His office is at Yost87@charter.net in Denton.


Sunday, October 6, 2013

Woodpecker damage? Huh?!


“A woodpecker is killing my tree.”     Really?!


Downy Woodpecker
It’s simply not so!  The woodpecker is telling you, over and over and over, that the tree or shrub is sick. It’s an alert that there are many tunneling insects in the wood (a good thing if you’re a hungry woodpecker) and the tree’s survival is threatened. The weakened tree may topple in a high wind. It could also spread to other vegetation, fall on your house or attract unwanted creatures.

 

Mistaken identity


Carolina Chickadee
The species of Chickadee here in north Texas has a black “cap” but it isn’t the species called the Black-capped Chickadee.  Ours is the Carolina Chickadee. Both look pretty much the same to you and me, but I bet they can tell the difference.

 

Squirreling away a bunch of acorns   The ordinary Blue Jay that we see in north Texas can carry several acorns at once. One or two (or more) in its bill and throat, and at least two more in ”built-in shopping bags” in the form of expandable pouches at its throat. The jay carries them away and hides them for later - just like a squirrel. (forgotten nuts, clearly, are responsible for much of our forested lands)


He stashes between 3000 and 5000 acorns and other nuts per season, some of which may be forgotten about, and grow into big trees. The bird might cram them into a crack in a tree’s bark, or bury them in the ground. That’s not counting the ones eaten on the spot.

 


OWEN YOST, in addition to being a blogger, is a licensed Landscape Architect emeritus who has lived and worked in north Texas for over 30 years. He is a member of the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA), International Federation of Landscape Architects, National Wildlife Federation and the Audubon Society. His office is at Yost87@charter.net in Denton.

 

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

The only two reasons why birds sing


Harris' Sparrow
The only two reasons a bird sings are (1) defining and protecting its territory, and (2) attracting a mate.  It’s not meant to disturb your sleep or to complain that a feeder’s empty, though those may be secondary consequences. A singing bird doesn’t really care how a song affects us. He just cares if his message gets through to other birds.

Singing is almost always directed at members of the bird’s own species. Each species has a different song (or songs), and individual birds of the same species sound pretty much alike. However, there is often a slight variation among different populations of the same species; for instance a wren in New England probably sounds strange to a wren from Louisiana. Also, almost all birds have two “voice boxes”, so they can sing intricate and complex songs that you and I can’t possibly imitate.

Typically only the male bird sings, although the female of some species can also sing. The reason is common sense; the males want to draw attention to themselves, whereas females want to remain hidden, since they are often in the vulnerable position of incubating eggs or caring for young.

Most bird songs establish territory. Within this territory a pair of birds will get the bulk of their food, hunt for nest material, raise their young, and so on - so a territory must be aggressively guarded from rivals. The relative size of a territory varies greatly. It depends on the amount of food, shelter and nesting material it contains.

To establish a territory, the male chooses a series of song posts from which to sing (specific trees, fence posts and such).  The borders are invisible, of course, but if a rival male crosses into an occupied territory he will be instantly challenged. When a male challenges, the ensuing fights or chases may involve aggressive bursts of song meant to scare the intruder. The territory’s original “owner” almost always emerges as the winner.

Special attractions that appeal to all birds, like feeders and birdbaths, seem to be excluded from the exclusive territory of just one bird. They’re out-of-bounds or “neutral territory” which all birds can visit with only minimal annoyances from other birds.

A bird’s song means nothing to birds of a different species. The other bird probably has different food and nesting requirements, so different species often live in the same area, ignoring the songs of other species. Within a given territory it’s possible to have a Robin, a Cardinal, a Chickadee, a Mockingbird and Bluebird, all nesting without interfering with each other’s needs. One species eats seeds, another eats insects and so on…each exploiting its own environmental niche. An example is the Brown Creeper, who inspects tree bark for insects while going UP a tree. The Nuthatch does it while going DOWN a tree. So they can both live on the same tree, and not infringe on the other’s environmental niche.

A bird’s song can advertise to a female that an unattached male is present, offering the female a mate and a home. He’s announcing his status and virility (some call this the “shiny sports car” syndrome).  The female is thought to be able to distinguish between the songs of a bachelor bird and one that is paired. 

Some birds also have a sub-song.  It’s usually a quieter and lower version of their normal song. It doesn’t carry very far and is usually only heard in fall and spring. Some sub-songs are almost certainly sung by young birds, so it could be thought of as  ”practicing”.

Bird calls are different from songs. They are quite short, simple sounds and so have only one or two syllables; sort of like a sound you or I might make if startled, punched in the stomach or attacked by a bear. Calls communicate totally different messages from songs – such as signaling that a predator is very near, showing aggression, showing surprise or calling young birds home.

Whatever song a bird makes, it typically sounds pleasant and sweet to us. But to the intended audience, other birds, it may mean ”get out of MY territory” or “I can help raise healthy nestlings” or “watch out for that hawk up there”.

 

OWEN YOST, in addition to being a blogger, is a licensed Landscape Architect emeritus who has lived and worked in north Texas for over 30 years. He is a member of the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA), International Federation of Landscape Architects, National Wildlife Federation and the Audubon Society. His office is at Yost87@charter.net in Denton.

 

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Sidestep spoiled birdseed when you ground-feed

Black-crested Titmouse
 Ground-feeding of birds is wonderful, mainly because it's so natural. Most of the bird species that come to feeders take most of their natural nourishment from what’s on the ground anyway.  However, moisture (usually in the form of rain) will rapidly spoil seed that’s scattered on the ground.

Spoiled seed can lead to sick birds. Go ahead and scatter seed on the ground for birds whose natural food supply is covered up, however.  Squirrels will probably find the leftovers.  But don’t let seeds (I’m not talking about the husks) stay on the wet ground for more than 2 or 3 days.

Rose-breasted Grosbeak
Blue Jay
At our house, we have a ” tray” or “platform” feeder, with a screened bottom. It’s hung several feet off the ground. Rain simply goes out the bottom, and the wet seed dries out quickly.


 We "run" about ten feeders (It varies with the seasons). You'd think that the cost of seed would monetarily drain us. No!  For one thing we use safflower in a few feeders that squirrels can reach. That's because squirrels hate the taste of safflower and leave those feeders alone. We also have a couple of "Squirrel-Buster" feeders that are designed to totally exclude squirrels (no squirrel has gotten a single seed out of a "Squirrel-Buster" in the 18 years we've lived in our house).
 We fill feeders when we want to, not when they're almost empty. If a full feeder is your goal, fill it with old nuts and bolts  (that's sarcasm). Besides, wild birds get far less than a quarter of their food from feeders anyway.
We strongly advise against buying birdseed from a grocery store or big-box store, whose main interest is low unit cost. Yes - the price per bag is lower, because it's largely made up of cheap seeds that birds in north Texas won't eat (like milo, corn etc.).  It seems like it would last longer for the same reason, but that's not so. It actually winds up costing you more because what actually happens is that a bird will pick up a junk seed like milo, realize he doesn't want it, and drop it to the ground.  Creatures like rats and mice will pick up these junk seeds; it soon attracts their friends. Result: your feeder gets emptied about as fast as before, you need to buy more seed sooner, and you have a rodent problem.

 

OWEN YOST, in addition to being a blogger, is a licensed Landscape Architect emeritus who has lived and worked in north Texas for over 30 years. He is a member of the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA), International Federation of Landscape Architects, National Wildlife Federation and the Audubon Society. His office is at Yost87@charter.net in Denton.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

This area is called "the Cross Timbers" Why??

 Most of this north Texas area is called “Cross Timbers”. It seems that many people think that the term “Cross Timbers” is merely a made-up name. Wrong!

Actually, Denton is mostly in the Eastern Cross Timbers –the popular name for this area in “pioneer-speak”. Unfortunately, there is hardly any real “Cross Timbers” left today, having been plowed under and paved over to accommodate subdivisions, shopping malls, highways and the like. 

The origin of the phrase can be traced down several paths, depending on who’s talking. The most popular, however, has its roots in the natural geography and vegetation of this area. Most forests here run in north-south bands.  Rivers, on the other hand, run roughly east-west. The result was that pioneers (who fervently avoided dangerous river crossings) had to cross bands of north-south forest as they traveled between the rivers, heading generally west. Thus the name:  ”Cross Timbers”.

In academic, ecological terms, this area was a “savannah” which is defined as a grassland prairie spotted with trees. (Mostly post oaks and blackjack oaks in this instance). In many areas the characteristic trees were so thick that they became forests. In the 18th and 19th centuries, the Cross Timbers was a well-known geographic feature marking the eastern edge of the American grasslands.

Nowadays, however, there are embarrassingly few remnants of the Cross Timbers left. Much of the original soil has been “urbanized” by extensive construction, farming and introduction of non-natural soil. Even though 19th-century naturalists generally put the range of the Cross Timbers region over a large stretch of Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas – the original ecosystem is now found in only a few large parks, preserves and isolated patches of countryside and floodplains.

Many kinds of plants thrived in the Cross Timbers, but almost all the natural canopy trees were post oaks and blackjack oaks. Amongst them were millions of tough smilax vines (those pesky, thorny vines also called catclaw vine or greenbrier). The combination was almost impenetrable, causing the 19th century author and statesman, Washington Irving, to call the Cross Timbers “forests of cast iron”.
Washington Irving
But vegetation would not exist at all in this type of soil, if compaction and “traffic” were not limited in some way. The Cross Timbers soil is sandy, porous, unstable and nutrient-poor. Consequently, the natural vegetation is fragile and easily killed.

The Cross Timbers is tied to the sandstone geology, and is limited by the local climate; rainfall being the biggest factor. The area (which encompasses Denton) gets between 23 inches and 43 inches per year. Coupled with high summer temperatures and frequent droughts, this area is ideal for the native oaks. When artificial irrigation is introduced, many other plants will survive here, although vegetative life is still very fragile.Under sprinkler systems, much of the native vegetation may suffer from overwatering.

Despite a growing awareness of the Cross Timbers’ ecological and historic importance, what little remains is being demolished at an alarming rate.  In the words of author Richard Francaviglia  “…developers are often either ignorant or arrogant. Thus, the Cross Timbers yields to the bulldozer in many locales, especially in the suburban areas where the prime real-estate sites...entice developers.” (Dr. Francaviglia authored ‘The Cross Timbers’ and ‘A Natural and Cultural History of the North American Cross Timbers’).

Dr. Francaviglia also noted that in some areas some land developers are preserving remnants of the Cross Timbers as they carefully develop sites. Also, the opportunities for tourism revenue are huge. “Few regions present better opportunities to integrate heritage tourism with conservation than the Cross Timbers.  Descriptions of this region’s forest abound in the historic literature and the Cross Timbers was often THE most prominent feature on historic maps of the period 1830 – 1880.” 

So, as you look around a remnant of the Cross Timbers, glimpse an Eastern Bluebird perched on a limb, see a Red-tailed Hawk soar, hear a hidden Warbler or Chickadee, and photograph a mass of Bluestem grass, think of all that came before us, and imagine all that the Cross Timbers used to be.



 
OWEN YOST, in addition to being a blogger, is a licensed Landscape Architect emeritus who has lived and worked in north Texas for over 30 years. He is a member of the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA), International Federation of Landscape Architects, National Wildlife Federation and the Audubon Society. His office is at Yost87@charter.net in Denton.


 

 

 

 

 

Sunday, September 22, 2013

avian mimic


Northern Mockingbird
A few species of birds are the only living creatures, other than humans, that can imitate sounds that they weren’t born to produce. This ability to learn and imitate strange sounds is called verbal mimicry, and the species of birds that can do it are called mimics. The most notable Texas bird that can do it happens to be our state bird:  the Mockingbird. I've heard of them (technically, Northern Mockingbirds) mimicking phone ringing, computer "dings" and backing up "beeps" of trucks.




Starlings actually belong elsewhere   

Like Kudzu vine and Dutch Elm disease, starlings (technically, European Starlings) didn’t occur naturally in this hemisphere at first. An
Starling (in fall)


Starling

eccentric Shakespeare enthusiast released about 100 starlings in New York in the 1890s. Before that time they only existed in Europe. He thought it a clever idea to bring to the “New World” every species mentioned in Shakespeare’s writings, with no thought about natural prey, habitats, native-ness etc. Now we have over 200 million of them, and fewer native species.  Alas!
 

OWEN YOST, in addition to being a blogger, is a licensed Landscape Architect emeritus who has lived and worked in north Texas for over 30 years. He is a member of the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA), International Federation of Landscape Architects, National Wildlife Federation and the Audubon Society. His office is at Yost87@charter.net in Denton.