Cedar Flyswallows?

I don’t feel a bit guilty about abusing the name of the Cedar Waxwing, whose wings never seemed very waxy to me. My new moniker for this classy bird is based on its behavior that many have noticed at the Celery Farm over the past couple of weeks.

The usual image of the Waxwing is of a flock of them rabidly devouring berries from a tree or shrub. But since there are few berries of any sort around during late summer, what’s a waxwing to do but to take advantage of an alternate—and protein-rich—source of calories: insects.

Hence we get the unusual scene of Waxwings perched on high branches over Lake Appert, periodically dashing out to catch tiny flying insects and returning to their perches to wait, briefly, for more entomophagous opportunities. Some even swoop downward and over the water surface. So we have these berry eaters acting more like flycatcher/swallow hybrids—hence my silly but hopefully forgivable re-naming of the species.

While the Waxwings take advantage of the abundance of summer insects, visitors to Warden’s Watch at the Celery Farm have the opportunity of seeing these birds closer than usual as they perch on bare branches within ten feet of the platform and carry on their feeding behavior for minutes or hours at a time. And what an opportunity for photography, even for folks without super-long telephoto lenses!

Watching the “flyswallows” in action brought several words to mind: beauty, adaptability, design. Beauty? Just look at the photos, which don’t do justice to the real thing (but click on them to enlarge them anyway). Adaptability? Plucking berries may be easier, but these creatures have been given the ability to take advantage of a completely different diet when necessary for survival. And design? It is evident in every detail of bird anatomy, from feathers, hollow bones and neuromuscular control that enable flight—to eyes that can see miniscule insects from several yards away (I couldn’t see even one of the insects the birds were flying after.)

Perhaps a fourth word comes to mind: intelligence. The term “birdbrain” should be deleted from our vocabulary. I can’t attest to the IQ of the Cedar Waxwing, but recent work with crows shows some amazing mental abilities. An experiment was designed in which a crow had to retrieve a short stick to get at a longer stick with which to retrieve a piece of food—and the bird figured it out on the first try, never having seen the equipment. Please, none of this “birds are evolved from dinosaurs” stuff. But then again, maybe dinosaurs were smart, too. The Designer of both birds and dinosaurs knows.

Lunar Wipeout--and Mine!

I would have posted this earlier, but after getting up at 5 to view and photograph this lunar eclipse, I wiped out and went back to bed. Unfortunately, cloud cover "eclipsed" the most spectacular part of the eclipse, when the Earth's shadow completely covers the Moon and it appears as a big navel orange in the sky.

Many articles and books have been written about our amazing satellite and how it's just big enough and just close enough to make our tides just good enough. It's only a tip of the proverbial iceberg of the "Anthropic Principle" which says there are so many parameters and measurements about our solar system--and the galaxy--and the universe--that are "just so" so as to make life possible on Earth. All by chance? No way! I enjoy reading Kipling's "Just So" stories, but our Creator wrote bigger and better.

Now how about a little hike down by the banks of the great gray green greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever trees...but enough of Kipling, how about this for a taste of reality.

For another Moon-related post, click here.

Controversial Cormorants

While scanning through folders of old photos, I happened upon this one, one of my favorite Double-crested Cormorant images. Then, in the Science Section of the New York Times, appeared this article about the fascinating and somewhat controversial species. (Unfortunately, the financially strapped NY Times has archived the article and wants money if you want to view it.)

In past years, we could always expect to see one or more “cormies” perched on branches or platforms on Lake Appert, drying their wings in preparation for their next dive and fishing expedition. This year, for some reason unknown to me, I have seen very few “devil birds” on any of my visits.

After reading the Times article and other pieces about the ecological, aesthetical and commercial problems that overpopulations of cormorants have caused in various regions, we might be thankful for the limited numbers that visit the Celery Farm. Even a moderate population of these ravenous gobblers might fish out the lake, leaving slim pickings for egrets, herons and ospreys--and stinking up the place in the process.

As with all things ecological, healthy disagreement and argument abound. Stewardship and management of complex ecosystems is no simple matter. Fixing one thing without breaking something else or upsetting various groups of people (hunters, fishermen, bird lovers, conservationists, property owners) makes for decision-making headaches. Add in government bureaucracy and things start to look like the dodder in my previous post.

Here is an interesting point-counterpoint discussion between a fisherman and an environmental lawyer concerning the cormorant situation in the Great Lakes. One side’s argument looks good until we read the opposing view. That’s the way it is in all debates. (Proverbs 18:17) ;

What amazes me is that there is so much concern at every level of government and by a plethora of private organizations—concern about individual species and biodiversity and the environment in general. Thousands of people and uncounted millions of dollars are involved in solving environmental problems and in saving endangered species. What motivates governments, organizations and individuals to put out so much money and effort in these causes? Motives range from purely selfish to somewhat altruistic. The biblical mandate is clear, but our fallen human nature has caused us to fail to fulfill it for thousands of years. We are thankful for those who try, whatever their motives.

The Dodder That Ate the Celery Farm

Click on the pictures to enlarge them.

It seems to be everywhere, spreading its orange, spaghetti-like stems over any plant it wants to. And stems it is; there are no leaves; there is no chlorophyll—and therefore there is no photosynthesis. So when it comes to food, the Dodder has to get it from a plant that IS green and CAN make food by photosynthesis.

Here’s how it works. Dodder grows from seeds. Its tiny seedlings grope about, sniffing the air for chemicals emitted from nearby greenery. When they come in contact with a likely host plant, they quickly grow around its stems and soon penetrate them with specialized roots called haustoria. The haustoria enter the vascular tissue (veins) of the host and absorb food, water and minerals to nourish the Dodder. The original root of the Dodder disintegrates, leaving it completely dependent on the host plant.

As you can see, it’s a very successful way of life. The Dodder quickly grows, spreads to other plants and even produces flowers, which in turn produce a lot of seeds for the next growing season.

With more and more growing at the Celery Farm each year, one wonders how much of an ecological problem it might get to be. Time will tell. No use trying to eradicate the stuff. The seeds can last in the ground for up to seventy years, so they say.

Dodder, AKA “devil’s guts” (and a whole bunch of other names people have given it over the years), is a true parasite, drawing not just water and minerals, but ready-made carbohydrates from its host plant. I don’t know how much damage it does to the host, but it surely can’t help.

Parasitism is one form of symbiosis. The more friendly kind is called mutualism, in which each partner in the relationship contributes something good. Such is the case in those crusty things called lichens, in which the fungus partner soaks up water and the alga partner makes food, so that the lichen can grow on a bare rock. Parasitism is all take and no give. We don’t admire it in humans and it surely was not a part of God’s original “very good” creation.

The Fall brought about ugliness in every aspect of the cosmos. We can’t wait ‘til He fixes it. Reflect upon the situation here.

Insect Wings--Making Order(s) out of chaos

Click on each picture to see a large version. Then click your browser back arrow to come back here.

I seem to be mentioning insects and their wings frequently these days, mainly because I have been able to grab a few fairly decent shots of them this summer. Why do I find insect wings so fascinating? After all, they are merely dead sheets of chitin, varied in texture and color and sometimes covered with minute scales. But just contemplating how these precisely designed structures develop in the pupa stage or the nerves and muscles that produce their precise movements for flight should arouse a sense of wonder in us all.

Aside from that, the wings are the features by which insects are classified into major groups called Orders. That makes it easier for us amateurs to at least tell a fly from a beetle or a grasshopper from a dragonfly. And while most of us are inclined to call any insect a bug, the true entomologist would cluck his tongue and shake his finger, insisting that only members of the Order Hemiptera should be called bugs—and that their wings can identify them easily.

So take a look at the photos and notice the differences in the wings of various Orders. But please note: I have put the photos in random order and have left it up to you to match them up. Good luck!

Lepidoptera (butterflies and moths) scale-covered wings (strikingly colored in this Eastern Black Swallowtail.)

Coleoptera (beetles) one pair of shell-like wings and a pair of membranous flight wings, which you see when ladybug (sorry, lady beetle) flies away home

Hymenoptera (bees, wasps, etc.) two pairs of membranous wings hooked together so that they act as one

Diptera (flies) one pair of membranous flight wings and a second pair that is reduced to small knobs and used like gyroscopes (You can't see them in this photo.)

Odonata (dragonflies and damselflies) two pairs of similar membranous wings

Hemiptera (true bugs) forewings are half leathery and half membranous, giving a flat-backed appearance with a distinctive shield pattern

Even if you just want to enjoy the pictures, be sure to give credit (and honor) to the One who created these miniature marvels! (His name isn't Darwin.) Promise? I knew you would.

Fishing and Hunting at the Celery Farm

Two old pros enjoy the quiet of Lake Appert while waiting for the appearance of something special to photograph.

Bioman photographs a wide-angle scene looking out from the Butterfly Garden, while another photographer looks into the garden for a flower or insect closeup.

One of Bioman's favorite Canada Goose portraits.
(Click the images to enlarge.)

The Celery Farm Natural Area is a great place for fishing—but only if you’re a heron, egret or osprey. No hooks, lines or sinkers are allowed, no matter what humans buy them. But you will see plenty of hunting going on—for subjects to photograph. Besides birding, photography is probably the next most popular Celery Farm sport.

Especially if there is a special attraction, like last year’s Mute Swan family or a rare bird appearance, like that of the Eurasian Widgeon or LeConte’s Sparrow, photogs will gather like flies to fill multi-gigabyte memory cards with untold thousands of images and to compare notes on camera models, lenses and tripods. Occasionally there is an appearance of one of the rarest of species: a film photography purist carrying his classic N series Nikon.

Even without a star attraction, in a place like the Celery Farm there is always some new image to capture. Light changes constantly; plants go through their growing cycles; birds, mammals, reptiles, amphibians and insects appear out of nowhere to offer surprise photographic opportunities. Even if you have photographed a Canada Goose a million times (as I seem to have) there is always a slightly different pose, lighting situation or swimming or flight pattern to make for a one-of-a-kind image. (The one shown here is one of my favorites.)

The motivation for doing nature photography is unique to every photographer. For me, it boils down to revealing the Creator’s skill in designing the structure and function of His creatures to survive and beautify the landscape even in His fallen, cursed cosmos, perhaps in a way never seen in quite the same way before. Did He foresee the coming of photographic equipment and techniques that could do this? Of course! Omniscience, omnipotence and pre-ordination are awesome things to contemplate! Soli Deo Gloria.

For a look back at an earlier entry about Celery Farm photography, look here.

White Pines, Hemlocks and Memories

What a day! Today was Staff Alumni Day at the scout camp where I worked fifty years ago. The weather was ideal, so I decided to drive the 75 miles to the beautiful Catskill Mountains to see how the camp had changed—or not. And believe it or not, it has changed very little. They have maintained the rustic, unspoiled atmosphere that makes the place so special. Some buildings have been added, but most of the old ones are hanging in nicely.

The manmade elements brought back fond memories, but it was the natural beauty that blew me away. White pines, mature when I saw them fifty years ago, have grown huge and have stayed healthy. Hemlocks, seemingly unaffected by the Woolly Adelgid that has decimated hemlocks in our area, dominate the forest, along with lichen-covered Chestnut Oaks. Add a tumbling waterfall, towering cliffs and ethereal Wood Thrush call floating out of pure silence—but words fail! Just enjoy the pictures (Click on them to enjoy them more.)

And did I mention the clouds?! (Psalm 19:1)
Fifty years away—how stupid! I shall return.

By the way, the totem pole is a replacement for a somewhat more massive one that was carved using hand axes fifty years ago. The original gradually deteriorated, and efforts at restoration failed. A pair of the colorful new totems grace the front of the dining hall.

Insect Metamorphosis: words fail (but I’ll try)

It’s next to impossible to believe that this Tiger Swallowtail (Click photo to enlarge) looked like this as little as two weeks ago! Ugly greenish brown with a bulging thorax trying to look like a big, scary head, with two false eyes to frighten away just about anyone. Having true thoracic legs that are tiny and useless, the caterpillar uses stumpy abdominal “prolegs” to navigate on the leaves on which it feeds, using chewing mouthparts.

After feeding and undergoing several molts, the caterpillar pupates and becomes even uglier. And considering what happens inside this chrysalis in a couple of weeks (or over winter), it is no wonder that caterpillar-to-butterfly metamorphosis is so often used as an illustration of magical transformation or miracle.

Inside that look-dead chrysalis, seeming chaos reigns. Most body structures disintegrate and their cells dissolve into an amorphous soup. The only signs of organization appear as several groups of cells called imaginal disks. They “know” what they are to become and go about the business of growing, migrating, and taking shape as totally different body parts than those of the larva. From these microscopic blobs develop compound eyes, siphoning, soda straw mouthparts, antennae, legs, new digestive system, reproductive system—and most remarkably, those magnificent, multi-colored scale-covered wings!

All this brand new structure must be perfectly packaged and able to break out of the tough chrysalis at the proper time. The wings must form perfectly folded so they can “hang dry” wrinkle free in several hours after the adult emerges. The wings, after all, are passive, chitinous structures that will be operated in precise manner by muscles within the thorax.

So far we have reflected upon things cellular and morphological (structural). If we were to delve into the molecular, the amazement would multiply. Every cell, tissue and organ of our insect is made of and is controlled by thousands of different chemical compounds, many consisting of hundreds or thousands of atoms in precise configurations: enzymes, hormones, molecular motors, pumps, structural proteins, as well as the chitin (say Kite-in), which is a cellulose-like polysaccharide with nitrogen-containing side groups—but now we’re just bloviating!

The point is that insects—and all living organisms, whether considered “primitive” or “advanced,” are complex beyond imagination and so information-packed that, knowing what we know today, it is inconceivable that they have just “evolved” by chance mutations and natural selection, no matter how much time the processes are given. In fact, in regard to insects in particular, Sir Fred Hoyle, Nobel Prize-winning astronomer, came to the conclusion that insects are so weird that they could not possibly have evolved on Earth—they must have arrived as spores from space. Now THAT’S weird. Francis Crick, co-discoverer of the structure of the DNA molecule, even proposed the theory of "directed panspermia" to explain the origin of ALL life on Earth. That's even weirder!

We have gone way too long. But I would refer you here for edification and warning. Enjoy the beauty of a fluttering butterfly, but don’t get to idolizing it, ya’ hear!

From flower to fruit--don't take it for granted!

Flowers are pretty (sometimes) and fruits are tasty (sometimes). So often that’s the beginning and ending of our thoughts about the matter. And usually we don’t get the connection between the two. But the flower’s job is to grow into a fruit, and the sequence of events involved in the process is no less than miraculous.

Pretty flowers are pretty because they are designed to attract pollinators—agents (usually insects) that carry sticky pollen grains containing sperm cells from an anther (male organ) of one flower to a stigma (pollen receiving part of the female organ) of another flower. Not-so-pretty flowers are usually designed to produce a lot of dry pollen that blows about in the wind and by chance lands on a stigma.

That (cross-pollination) is only the beginning of the process however. What follows (hope you can follow it) is even more complex. After it lands on a stigma, a pollen grain germinates (sprouts) and grows down through the style (stalk) of the pistil (female organ). That sprouting pollen grain is literally a tiny male plant, containing two sperm nuclei. When its tip reaches the ovary, it finds an ovule (egg-containing structure) and grows through a microscopic pore (micropyle) and quickly fertilizes the egg nucleus. The second sperm joins with another nucleus in the ovule.

What does a fertilized egg do? It grows into an embryo. And that is what happens in the flower. The whole ovule grows into what we call a seed containing the tiny embryonic plant, a supply of food and a protective coat.

Meanwhile, the ovary starts to grow into various fleshy (and tasty) layers and a protective (and colorful) coat. And that is what we call a fruit. For us it is pretty and tasty, and the same goes for birds and other animals that use it for food and serve the plant by distributing its seeds.

I hope I didn’t bore you to death with that confusing botany lesson, but I wanted to remind us that nothing in life is simple, even though we may get that impression from a superficial glance or thought. Plants may seem simple because they only consist of five organs (root, stem, leaf, flower and fruit) and they don’t jump around. But internally and biochemically they are much more sophisticated than we are. (Can you make your own food from scratch? And I mean really from scratch, using carbon dioxide, water and a few minerals.)

To the evolutionary scientist, the origin of flowering plants is an enigma. To those of us who believe that the Bible is not just a “spiritual” book but that it contains scientific truth, it is no mystery, but a sure sign of the Creator’s magnificent engineering skill. Click here for the truth.

By the way, the photographs are of the flowers and fruit of the Chokecherry (Prunus virginiana). The flowers bloomed in May and the fruits are ripening in July, an indication of how long the whole process takes. (Click on the pictures to enjoy them more fully.)

Suddenly, a shot rang out...

…and it wasn’t even on a dark and stormy night. And Snoopy wasn’t there to write about it, nor was I there to photograph it. It happened 203 years ago today on the banks of the Hudson in Weehawken, New Jersey.

The event was that infamous duel between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, two important and loyal Americans who had some issues that escalated through a series of formal letters and ended in an “appointment.” We all know the results. Burr’s shot was accurate; Hamilton’s damaged a nearby tree. Much ink has been spilled over the order of the shots, hair triggers, the intentions of the duelers and such. The whole truth may never be known. Hamilton died within hours. Burr lived until September 14th, 1836, exactly 100 years before the birth of—Bioman.

The photograph was taken three years ago at the 200th anniversary reenactment of the duel, featuring a Burr playing the part of Colonel Burr and a Hamilton playing Alex’s role. Exact replicas of the original pistols were used. It was very well done, in a dignified fashion, with thousands in the audience.

The sad thing is that the original event happened. The two men were once close associates, even friends. But, as so often happens, things went bad. Bad old human pride took over and the results were deadly, to Hamilton’s body and to Burr’s reputation.

Of course, there was nothing new in principle in the Burr/Hamilton affair, only in the particular circumstances. People have been killing people ever since Genesis 3, with swords, spears, knives, rocks, and more recently with guns and explosives. But probably the most deadly weapon has been the tongue (Go back and read James 3:5-11). (Click here)

So today’s post got us away from flowers and bugs and into the ugliness of fallen human nature, just because it happens to be an important anniversary—and as a reminder that we all need the Savior.

More photos of the duel reenactment can be seen here.