Spring is a time of renewal, and in the month of May I underwent one of the bigger forms of renewal one can get; I moved house. Or to be more precise; we moved house, in which 'we' also includes my boyfriend and 4 cats. Before the big move, we actually had to renovate quite a lot (removing the ceilings, putting in new ceilings, putting in a new stair, and what have you), so it was a bit of a hasty building/packing/moving scramble. But now all my stuff has been moved (if not unpacked or organised) and I can focus on other things again. Such as: spring! While we were busing inside, the world around us erupted into an explosion of leaves, insects, singing birds, and weeds. I could enjoy this by sitting outside in my garden (I now have a garden again! There are actual trees in it! And grass!), but apart from that one of my favourite ways of enjoying spring is by watching Springwatch.
To my horror I just found out I've only written about Springwatch once before, in 2012. It really has been too long. The format has stayed basically the same in those 5 years; a couple of biologist and non-biologist presenters, a setting in one of England's most beautiful wildlife preserves, lots of cameras on nests and nestboxes, and lots of natural drama. This year so far, one of the trending Twitter topics has been #fledgeorfall, concerning a jay nest that was sloping precariously downward (the relief came a day later; one chick fell and survived, the three others actually fledged). Also happening, in a tree or barn not close to you; peregrine falcons loosing their eggs, a woodpecker checking out a blue tit nest, stoats playing about in the sun, and kestrel snot on one of the camera lenses.
But it's not just pretty pictures. In between all of this great imagery, loads and loads of biological and conservational facts are dispersed at a high rate. As always, lots of the more 'general' biological stuff are things I start explaining to the person next to me, right when one of the presenters is actually saying about the same thing. But there is quite a lot of new research being preformed too. How many species of newt live in this pond? Do hedgehogs/mice/stoats live in this wall/hedgerow/barn? Peregrine falcon feed their chicks with an amazing 98 different species of bird, but where do they catch them?
Generally, this research involves catching the animals in question, weighing and tagging them, sometimes with a geolocator, and then releasing them again. This may disturb the animal in question for a short while, but in the end, I always think the disturbance is worth it, for every new bit of information we get about the natural world is an extra piece in the puzzle of trying to protect it. If we know that the peregrine falcons on Salisbury cathedral visit a nearby copse of wood to catch their food, we know we cannot just chop down all those trees, or the peregrine will suffer (lots of other animals will suffer too, but generally you need the 'poster child' animals to get conservation working). If we know that three different species of newt live in a pond, we cannot just fill it in to put a housing estate there. We need to protect what little of nature we have left, and knowing more about it will make it easier to do so.
I know I'm a bit of a nature fanatic, but if you're even the slightest interested in the natural world around you, do watch Springwatch. You can find it either on the BBC or one one of the many live feeds online. You will see a side of nature that is relatively close, but very unknown. Also, actually trying to name the bird or animal in view before the voice-over tells you what it is will make it more of a challenge, and will make you realise actually how many species of bird and insect and mammal are out there, and how much there is left for us to discover.
Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts
Wednesday, 31 May 2017
Saturday, 2 July 2016
Road tripping to National Parks
So for two weeks, I found myself in the US. In the southwestern part of the US, specifically; Arizona, Utah, Nevada (and some New Mexico and Colorado thrown in at Four Corners).
How did I end up there? A friend of mine had a conference in DC, and we decided to do some road tripping afterwards. Genuine road tripping, that is, no plans or reservations or anything, just driving around and seeing where we'd end up. So we had a place of arrival and departure (Phoenix Sky Harbour airport, although we arrived and departed separately due to financial reasons) and a rental car, and that was basically it. We'd go wherever the road would take us.
Turns out, it took us to National Parks. Loads and loads of National Parks. On the third day, some friendly ranger told us that we could actually buy an Annual Park Pass for just 80$, which would save us entrance fees to most National Parks (except for those on Navajo land, as they can still charge), and after that, we were really unstoppable.
There is so much beautiful nature in that part of the world. Vast stretches of empty nothingness, with very few roads or villages in between. We drove the length of our own country several times over, and saw nothing but nature with a capital N (okay, and some flattened prairedogs, coyotes, etc. But most of it was alive and not on the road). And it's so diverse! You can be driving through a flowering cactus filled desert one minute, and stand at the edge of a pine forest-filled canyon the next. I've done the middle of Australia, and that has a lot of nothing too, but it's mostly the same red-orangy desert nothing. Here, you never knew what to expect in the next 100 miles.
If we would have been a bit better prepared, we could have done some very nice long hikes, but as things were, 35+ is just too many degrees to start trumping about unprepared. We did some really nice and rewarding short hikes to arches and canyons and the tops of volcanoes, and otherwise saw the rest of it from the ideally located view points (in the beginning, we'd take pictures from the road, but then we found out that if ever there was a nice few, there would be a scenic view point for us to get out and snap away as we liked).
So, any favourites? Of course! If you're in for petrified forests (and believe me, you are), go to Petrified Forest National Park, and take the scenic drive past thousand year old trees (no collecting, or you'll be cursed forever). If you're into arches and other weirdly shaped rocks and geographical features, go to Arches National Park (see what they did there? Even if you're completely unprepared, the name of the park will just tell you what to expect. And in the park itself, you had stuff like 'sheep rock'; a rock shaped like a sheep, 'balanced rock'; a rock balanced on top of a thin spire, and 'delicate arch'; a... you get the gist by now). Visit Bryce or Zion National Parks for the best hiking in slightly lower temperatures. And of course Monument Valley, where I managed not to wreck our rental car on the 'dirt' (=gravel) roads.
All in all, we drove 4500 kilometres. We did not venture into California, as it has too many great things to fit in just two weeks, and decided that we'll have to come back for that some other time. Probably a bit earlier in the season, as the tourist crowds really started to get going towards the end. But still, two weeks of being so totally removed from your own 'habitat', under the vast blue skies and the big empty roads; I wouldn't mind coming back next year!
How did I end up there? A friend of mine had a conference in DC, and we decided to do some road tripping afterwards. Genuine road tripping, that is, no plans or reservations or anything, just driving around and seeing where we'd end up. So we had a place of arrival and departure (Phoenix Sky Harbour airport, although we arrived and departed separately due to financial reasons) and a rental car, and that was basically it. We'd go wherever the road would take us.
Turns out, it took us to National Parks. Loads and loads of National Parks. On the third day, some friendly ranger told us that we could actually buy an Annual Park Pass for just 80$, which would save us entrance fees to most National Parks (except for those on Navajo land, as they can still charge), and after that, we were really unstoppable.
There is so much beautiful nature in that part of the world. Vast stretches of empty nothingness, with very few roads or villages in between. We drove the length of our own country several times over, and saw nothing but nature with a capital N (okay, and some flattened prairedogs, coyotes, etc. But most of it was alive and not on the road). And it's so diverse! You can be driving through a flowering cactus filled desert one minute, and stand at the edge of a pine forest-filled canyon the next. I've done the middle of Australia, and that has a lot of nothing too, but it's mostly the same red-orangy desert nothing. Here, you never knew what to expect in the next 100 miles.
If we would have been a bit better prepared, we could have done some very nice long hikes, but as things were, 35+ is just too many degrees to start trumping about unprepared. We did some really nice and rewarding short hikes to arches and canyons and the tops of volcanoes, and otherwise saw the rest of it from the ideally located view points (in the beginning, we'd take pictures from the road, but then we found out that if ever there was a nice few, there would be a scenic view point for us to get out and snap away as we liked).
So, any favourites? Of course! If you're in for petrified forests (and believe me, you are), go to Petrified Forest National Park, and take the scenic drive past thousand year old trees (no collecting, or you'll be cursed forever). If you're into arches and other weirdly shaped rocks and geographical features, go to Arches National Park (see what they did there? Even if you're completely unprepared, the name of the park will just tell you what to expect. And in the park itself, you had stuff like 'sheep rock'; a rock shaped like a sheep, 'balanced rock'; a rock balanced on top of a thin spire, and 'delicate arch'; a... you get the gist by now). Visit Bryce or Zion National Parks for the best hiking in slightly lower temperatures. And of course Monument Valley, where I managed not to wreck our rental car on the 'dirt' (=gravel) roads.
All in all, we drove 4500 kilometres. We did not venture into California, as it has too many great things to fit in just two weeks, and decided that we'll have to come back for that some other time. Probably a bit earlier in the season, as the tourist crowds really started to get going towards the end. But still, two weeks of being so totally removed from your own 'habitat', under the vast blue skies and the big empty roads; I wouldn't mind coming back next year!
Saturday, 4 May 2013
The Birds
As you may know by now, the garden that came with our new house isn't really a garden in the true sense, it's more a patch of yellow sand and clay with some tiles dropped in. We've tried very hard to change that, and some nice plants are starting to grow, but it will be at least a couple of months before it can really truly be called a garden (I will add pictures!). And even then, it will be one of very very few in the neighbourhood, as most people just pave the whole thing over and throw in some expensive 'lounge' furniture and an oversized barbecue.
Which is why I am so very happy that one little sparrow has found its way into our garden and is hopping around the (small, just coming in to leaf) birch tree. We left the bird feeder up because it was still quite cold, and the sparrow has been spreading seed husks all over the surrounding area, in a great show of appetite. Our first bird! Apart from the colony of jackdaws living next door, of course, but they don't really visit the garden, they just hop around on the shed and in the raingutters.
But there has been some activity in our birdhouse as well: small twigs are now sticking out of the creaks in the bottom. We're not sure whether it is the same sparrow (they tend to nest in groups) or whether a lonely blue tit or great tit has found it, but we're keeping our fingers crossed that we may even get a bird-in-residence.
And then yesterday we were sitting outside in front of our house, because that's where the sun is in the late afternoon, and we heard this frantic chirping by little chicks, and discovered that there are several nestboxes under the raingutters of the houses on the opposite side of the street. They're of the type more commonly known as 'sparrow flats', with several openings for sparrows to nest together. One family had clearly already hatched, and both parents were flying in and out bringing food.
All of this made me very happy.
One of the first things I learnt when I started my biology studies was that most biologists study birds because they're a) not nocturnal and b) one of the last patches of nature that can actually withstand the pressure of the city. This area is not extremely bad, naturewise, there are lots of trees and bushes next to the railroad tracks, and if you cross the ring road you're in the middle of the fields (with complementary manure wafts if the wind turns that way), but it's no bird heaven, especially with all the cats and dogs and small children running around. But, as ever, nature finds its way, even if it is with the help of some man-made nest boxes.
And then to top it all off: yesterday evening we had a bat in the garden, gracefully swooping around to clear out the mosquitoes.
Which is why I am so very happy that one little sparrow has found its way into our garden and is hopping around the (small, just coming in to leaf) birch tree. We left the bird feeder up because it was still quite cold, and the sparrow has been spreading seed husks all over the surrounding area, in a great show of appetite. Our first bird! Apart from the colony of jackdaws living next door, of course, but they don't really visit the garden, they just hop around on the shed and in the raingutters.
But there has been some activity in our birdhouse as well: small twigs are now sticking out of the creaks in the bottom. We're not sure whether it is the same sparrow (they tend to nest in groups) or whether a lonely blue tit or great tit has found it, but we're keeping our fingers crossed that we may even get a bird-in-residence.
And then yesterday we were sitting outside in front of our house, because that's where the sun is in the late afternoon, and we heard this frantic chirping by little chicks, and discovered that there are several nestboxes under the raingutters of the houses on the opposite side of the street. They're of the type more commonly known as 'sparrow flats', with several openings for sparrows to nest together. One family had clearly already hatched, and both parents were flying in and out bringing food.
All of this made me very happy.
One of the first things I learnt when I started my biology studies was that most biologists study birds because they're a) not nocturnal and b) one of the last patches of nature that can actually withstand the pressure of the city. This area is not extremely bad, naturewise, there are lots of trees and bushes next to the railroad tracks, and if you cross the ring road you're in the middle of the fields (with complementary manure wafts if the wind turns that way), but it's no bird heaven, especially with all the cats and dogs and small children running around. But, as ever, nature finds its way, even if it is with the help of some man-made nest boxes.
And then to top it all off: yesterday evening we had a bat in the garden, gracefully swooping around to clear out the mosquitoes.
Sunday, 4 November 2012
Feeding your birds
I've been very busy the past few weeks, the dissertation stuff needs to be done before November 19th, and it doesn't look like that's going to happen, so I've geared it up a bit, and then there were some other things I may tell you about in the future.
But one thing I did do is put the bird feeder outside. I've always had bird feeders for as long as I've lived in the city, and they've always been busily visited by blue tits, great tits, and the occasional robin or green finch, with blackbirds happily munching up all the seeds that are spilled by the others (I always read about house sparrows invading feeders, but I've never seen them here. There is a big group living in the hedgerows about 50 m from our house, but they don't appear to be interested in my food). For my birthday I got the most beautiful caterpillar-shaped peanut bird feeder, which will be put to good use as soon as I have the time to buy peanuts.
I know some people may be going "feeding the birds? But they're wild animals, they should fend for themselves!", but honestly, these are not wild birds anymore. The gardens in my part of the city are very small and often badly maintained, which leaves little food for the birds. In winter, most insects actually crawl into the houses rather than winter outside, which depletes the store of food even more. Moreover, we're adding plenty of cat-predators who live very close to each other (a wild cat's territory can be many square kilometres) and make it even harder for them to survive. We're the ones taking away their food, we're also the ones making them less 'wild' by removing the 'wild' itself, so I cannot help but want to do something back.
I know there are other concerns, as there is still a rumour going around that birds who feed seeds to their chicks kill them (chicks generally only eat insects), so that you should remove your feeders in early spring to prevent this. Believe me, birds who would feed their chicks seeds would have died out a long time ago (as they aren't reproducing, so their habit isn't established in other birds, etc...). They use the seeds themselves to get some quick energy and get back to finding grub for their young. There are many people who leave feeders out the whole year, so this is really not a problem. I leave mine out until at least the last frost, but usually a bit longer, say the end of April.
Also, it's been really cold (freezing) for about two weeks now, so here the birds really need the extra food. But even if it had been okay weather I usually put out the food at the end of October, so the birds can get to know the place. If the temperature suddenly drops and they have to spend precious energy trying to find a place that can sustain them, they may still have problems even if they do find your food. So put it out early.
All the little bits help, of course, especially if you're living in a city or busy area. Feeders are cheap, food is even cheaper, and you'll be helping that little bit of nature that is still left close to you survive!
But one thing I did do is put the bird feeder outside. I've always had bird feeders for as long as I've lived in the city, and they've always been busily visited by blue tits, great tits, and the occasional robin or green finch, with blackbirds happily munching up all the seeds that are spilled by the others (I always read about house sparrows invading feeders, but I've never seen them here. There is a big group living in the hedgerows about 50 m from our house, but they don't appear to be interested in my food). For my birthday I got the most beautiful caterpillar-shaped peanut bird feeder, which will be put to good use as soon as I have the time to buy peanuts.
I know some people may be going "feeding the birds? But they're wild animals, they should fend for themselves!", but honestly, these are not wild birds anymore. The gardens in my part of the city are very small and often badly maintained, which leaves little food for the birds. In winter, most insects actually crawl into the houses rather than winter outside, which depletes the store of food even more. Moreover, we're adding plenty of cat-predators who live very close to each other (a wild cat's territory can be many square kilometres) and make it even harder for them to survive. We're the ones taking away their food, we're also the ones making them less 'wild' by removing the 'wild' itself, so I cannot help but want to do something back.
I know there are other concerns, as there is still a rumour going around that birds who feed seeds to their chicks kill them (chicks generally only eat insects), so that you should remove your feeders in early spring to prevent this. Believe me, birds who would feed their chicks seeds would have died out a long time ago (as they aren't reproducing, so their habit isn't established in other birds, etc...). They use the seeds themselves to get some quick energy and get back to finding grub for their young. There are many people who leave feeders out the whole year, so this is really not a problem. I leave mine out until at least the last frost, but usually a bit longer, say the end of April.
Also, it's been really cold (freezing) for about two weeks now, so here the birds really need the extra food. But even if it had been okay weather I usually put out the food at the end of October, so the birds can get to know the place. If the temperature suddenly drops and they have to spend precious energy trying to find a place that can sustain them, they may still have problems even if they do find your food. So put it out early.
All the little bits help, of course, especially if you're living in a city or busy area. Feeders are cheap, food is even cheaper, and you'll be helping that little bit of nature that is still left close to you survive!
Sunday, 21 October 2012
Autumn colours
I love autumn colours. I may have mentioned this before, and it is something that is usually on the back of my mind throughout the year, but when they actually arrive in full force, I can't help but be amazed at how much I love them.
Yesterday we drove to the zoo in my hometown and there were stretches of road that were completely orange or red or yellow, or a beautiful combination of them all. When we were in the US I was dying to see some famous "fall foliage" and I'm really sad that we missed it, but now that I see the stuff around here I'm wondering if it was always this good and I have just been missing what was right in front of me all those years? Surely, the world was never this pretty and warm-coloured and showering leafs down by the bucket load?
Sadly, they're usually gone within the week. Also, because of some weird warm weather we've been having lately, some trees are still enthusiastically and brightly green, while others are completely bare already. Again, not sure if this happens every year, but it struck me.
It's one of those things where I go "ooh, that's pretty" and then not take a photograph or make myself look better, thinking that it will still be there the next time I'm around, but it never is, and I always feel sad about missing it, or not really seeing it. But that's how it goes, I guess, even though most people now do take pictures and put everything on Facebook for the whole world to see and remember, I'm sure many young parents today will still go "they grow up so fast! It feels like they were still babies yesterday!" when their kids go off to live on their own.
And in a way it's good you can't remember everything, or your head would explode.
Anyway, even though I haven't been taking pictures myself, I've been asking for autumn colours on Postcrossing, and I got some especially nice ones that I can't help but share with you. They're from around the world, although of course pretty much restricted to the northern hemisphere (one of the reasons I'd never move to Australia, I don't think I'd be able to survive without a proper autumn).
ETA: oops, nearly forgot this one, which shows beautiful Lapland:
(I have more general forest/forest path cards too, which I think are lovely and magical and beautiful in their own way, but I'll save those for another day.)
Yesterday we drove to the zoo in my hometown and there were stretches of road that were completely orange or red or yellow, or a beautiful combination of them all. When we were in the US I was dying to see some famous "fall foliage" and I'm really sad that we missed it, but now that I see the stuff around here I'm wondering if it was always this good and I have just been missing what was right in front of me all those years? Surely, the world was never this pretty and warm-coloured and showering leafs down by the bucket load?
Sadly, they're usually gone within the week. Also, because of some weird warm weather we've been having lately, some trees are still enthusiastically and brightly green, while others are completely bare already. Again, not sure if this happens every year, but it struck me.
It's one of those things where I go "ooh, that's pretty" and then not take a photograph or make myself look better, thinking that it will still be there the next time I'm around, but it never is, and I always feel sad about missing it, or not really seeing it. But that's how it goes, I guess, even though most people now do take pictures and put everything on Facebook for the whole world to see and remember, I'm sure many young parents today will still go "they grow up so fast! It feels like they were still babies yesterday!" when their kids go off to live on their own.
And in a way it's good you can't remember everything, or your head would explode.
Anyway, even though I haven't been taking pictures myself, I've been asking for autumn colours on Postcrossing, and I got some especially nice ones that I can't help but share with you. They're from around the world, although of course pretty much restricted to the northern hemisphere (one of the reasons I'd never move to Australia, I don't think I'd be able to survive without a proper autumn).
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| US-1895607 received 9 October 2012 |
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| FI-1562808 received 15 October 2012 |
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| JP-319569 received 15 October 2012 |
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| FI-1552323 received 4 October 2012 |
Saturday, 2 June 2012
Springwatch
I am a big, biiiig fan of Springwatch (and Autumnwatch, and Lambing live, and any other live nature program the BBC will throw at me). The biologist in me, who usually stays hidden under the editor and the literature fanatic, comes to the fore and starts spilling out all kinds of random biological facts, usually in response to a question or remark by my boyfriend. Generally, the presenters of the program (clearly 2 biologists and one woman needed to fill the women quota) will provide the same information about 10 seconds after I'm done, which just goes to show that we're all the same, kind of.
The program is on Monday to Thursday, with the additional Unsprung on Thursday evenings, which is kind of a mishmash of quizzes and guests and documentaries and questions and letters and overall happy chaos. I love every minute of it.
But now I've discovered the webcams. I generally try to stay away from such things, especially as there was this nuthatch family with one small runt bird who was clearly struggling, and I didn't want to see him die right before my eyes (he did die, sadly, but such is nature (and the loads of watchers complaining that Springwatch didn't intervene and didn't hand raise the young are completely deluded as to what nature is really like)). But today, the other nuthatches were fledging. I saw the last one go, hanging on to the side of the nestbox for a few seconds, looking directly into the camera, and then jumping off, into the wide world.
And now I'm hooked, of course.
They change the cameras every several hours, so where there were blue tits now you can watch the bats, or the barn owls. The chaffinches are about to go, I thought, because they are getting very restless (and a bit too big for their nest). The sanderling parents are close to the railway, and they keep moving away when a train goes past, but now there is a cuckoo hanging around their nest and this may turn out to be baaaad... Yes, it's a real life nature soap.
The real thing is always better, of course, and I love watching the little blackbird family in our garden, or the troops of blue tits that patrol our birch tree, or seeing the birds on the feeder in winter. And I love the program, because I recognise the presenter's drive to explain and show and make people see and love and enjoy nature. And today we were walking through the park, and it turn out that the city herd (yes, Groningen has one) was being sheared right then and there, and I love being close to the sheep and seeing and touching and smelling them (well, maybe not so much smelling them).
But still. You can't stop watching them.
Thankfully it's only one more week before they go away again, and I know there are many many more webcams out there, but as long as I don't know where, I'm okay. No need to get emotionally attached to even more animals. Also, I'm working on a really big essay at the moment, and staring at some wood warbler chicks for a couple of minutes will be a good relaxation. Or so I tell myself...
The program is on Monday to Thursday, with the additional Unsprung on Thursday evenings, which is kind of a mishmash of quizzes and guests and documentaries and questions and letters and overall happy chaos. I love every minute of it.
But now I've discovered the webcams. I generally try to stay away from such things, especially as there was this nuthatch family with one small runt bird who was clearly struggling, and I didn't want to see him die right before my eyes (he did die, sadly, but such is nature (and the loads of watchers complaining that Springwatch didn't intervene and didn't hand raise the young are completely deluded as to what nature is really like)). But today, the other nuthatches were fledging. I saw the last one go, hanging on to the side of the nestbox for a few seconds, looking directly into the camera, and then jumping off, into the wide world.
And now I'm hooked, of course.
They change the cameras every several hours, so where there were blue tits now you can watch the bats, or the barn owls. The chaffinches are about to go, I thought, because they are getting very restless (and a bit too big for their nest). The sanderling parents are close to the railway, and they keep moving away when a train goes past, but now there is a cuckoo hanging around their nest and this may turn out to be baaaad... Yes, it's a real life nature soap.
The real thing is always better, of course, and I love watching the little blackbird family in our garden, or the troops of blue tits that patrol our birch tree, or seeing the birds on the feeder in winter. And I love the program, because I recognise the presenter's drive to explain and show and make people see and love and enjoy nature. And today we were walking through the park, and it turn out that the city herd (yes, Groningen has one) was being sheared right then and there, and I love being close to the sheep and seeing and touching and smelling them (well, maybe not so much smelling them).
But still. You can't stop watching them.
Thankfully it's only one more week before they go away again, and I know there are many many more webcams out there, but as long as I don't know where, I'm okay. No need to get emotionally attached to even more animals. Also, I'm working on a really big essay at the moment, and staring at some wood warbler chicks for a couple of minutes will be a good relaxation. Or so I tell myself...
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