Stream Safari

Stewardship Assistant Kevin with a handful of Asiatic clam shells

Despite the threat of thunderstorms, our annual Stream Safari came off without a hitch.  Our Stewardship Assistant Kevin who just earned his undergraduate degree in education, led about a dozen participants to the creek to comb the streambed cobbles for critters.

What ya' got there?

We billed this year's safari as an event for children more than we have in previous years (when we advertised it as a family activity), and four families with lots of kids came for the event.

Most invertebrates cling to the bottom of rocks

Our creek is "impaired" according to the state's official classification.  How could it not be?  We're in the center of the watershed, and the upper half of the drainage is fully overwhelmed by suburban sprawl.  So, our creek suffers from torrential flooding, sediment deposition, erosion, and nutrient enrichment.  In fact, it's amazing the creek is in as good a condition as it is.

Mom was really getting into the hunt

We found plenty of caddisfly larvae and mayfly nymphs that are tolerant of moderate pollution.  The invertebrates indicative of really high purity streams were, of course, completely absent.

Kevin even set up a field laboratory so that the participants could examine their finds with microscopes.  Everyone seemed to enjoy the cool water on a hot, humid evening as well as the cool animals hidden in the creek's nooks and crannies.

Primordial Landscapes: Iceland Revealed

A Smithsonian staff member in the hall outside Iceland Revealed exhibit

The founder of my organization, Feodor Pitcairn, is a very accomplished nature photographer.  Though he worked in his family's financial business, his true love was photography.  He began his photographic career making stunning, natural-light undersea still images, then graduated to undersea videography.

At 80 years old, he has forsaken diving (too dangerous, he claims; he has related some really "close calls").  Now he photographs terrestrial landscapes with very high-end camera equipment.  He has spent the last several years making expeditions to Iceland, which resulted in an exhibition of his work at the Smithsonian Institution's National Museum of Natural History in Washington.

Mr. Pitcairn collaborated with Icelandic poet Ari Trausti Guðmundsson to "reveal a land of fire, ice, hardy life, and natural beauty. Visitors to the exhibit experience the remote beauty of Iceland, a land sculpted by the elements and forged by active geologic activity."

Enjoying the exhibit

Mr. Pitcairn organized a bus tour to Washington for a small group of his friends for the exhibit's opening on June 30, and Kali and I were invited to come along.  It was the culmination of years of work, and he was in "seventh heaven."

A beaming Mr. Pitcairn

A well-known Icelandic folk troupe with the (translated) name "Seasons" happened to be in town on tour and entertained the crowd during the reception.  During the mingling after the formal speechifying, Kali and I had a chance to speak with the Icelandic Ambassador to the United States and former Icelandic Prime Minister Geir H. Haarde.  He gave us his card and invited us to contact him if we wanted some "special considerations" should we choose to visit Iceland.

Though Mr. Pitcairn's images are striking, Kali's not much motivated by stark, sere landscapes.  I doubt we'll take Mr. Haarde up on his offer.   

Danube Cruise

Hungarian Parliament building at night

Kali and I couldn't agree on a domestic destination for our summer vacation.  So, when Viking River Cruises offered free airfare to Europe as part of a deal, we jumped at the chance.  We decided to cruise the Danube from Budapest, Hungary upstream to Nuremberg, Germany during the last week of May.  Temperatures were around 65 degrees F (18 degrees C) and the first two days were rainy, but the remaining days were generally  just overcast.  East-central Europe had received a lot of rain before we arrived, so the Danube was running high, fast, and muddy.

Hungarian National Library on Castle Hill and famous Chain Bridge (oldest suspension bridge in Europe) linking Buda and Pest

Neither Kali nor I had been to Hungary, and I hadn't been to Austria; Kali's dad was in the Army and had been stationed in France twice, so Kali's family had traveled extensively in Europe when she was younger, so she had been to Austria previously.

Heroes' Square and the Millennium Monument in Pest

The first day, we got a guided tour of Budapest in the rain.

Matthias Church rooftop in Buda

After our city tour, we cast off from the dock and cruised all afternoon and overnight, arriving in Vienna in the morning.  Kali and I took the "Explorers' Tour" of the city, hopping the subway from our ship into the center with our guide.

Cafe in Vienna

After the tour, Kali and I stopped in a pastry cafe and had espressos and Sacher torte, a Viennese specialty.  Then, Kali and I took the subway back to our ship just in time for lunch.  (We ate and drank way too much on this trip.)  After lunch, we got on a bus for a guided tour of Schonbrunn Palace, the obscenely ostentatious Hapsburg palace and gardens built to rival Versailles (though it's considerably smaller).

The Hapsburg's Schonbrunn Palace and gardens, Vienna

After we returned from Schonbrunn, Kali wanted to take a nap, so I tucked her into bed and then took a vigorous 1-1/2 hour walk out along the Danube promenade and back through a huge wooded city park particularly favored by runners.  I needed an antidote to sitting on board the ship, eating and drinking too much, and taking slow guided walking tours.

The next day we spent mostly cruising along the Danube through the Wachau Valley, a region of Austria renown for its dramatic scenery and its white wine vineyards.

Church and vineyards in the scenic Wachau Valley section of the Danube

The Danube valley hosts many historic buildings from the Baroque era, but few medieval (or earlier) structures.  So, while we saw some ruined battlements and fortresses on the tops of strategic hills, such ruins were far more common sights along the Rhine when we cruised that river about a decade ago.

The incredibly ornate Baroque Melk Abbey, Melk, Austria

In the afternoon, we docked at Melk, Austria, a small town with an opulent abbey perched on the hill above.  After we toured the abbey, we walked downhill back to the ship.  While we were waiting to embark at a cafe and ice cream shop, we talked with Tommy, a young fellow from Berlin who was riding his bicycle as far east as he could get accompanied his golden retriever in a towed buggy.  His goal was central Asia.  We wished him well.

During our overnight cruising, we passed from Austria into German.  We docked in the morning at Passau, where the weather improved.  We took a (poor) guided walking tour, sat for a half-hour organ recital in the Passau Cathedral (which boasts the largest pipe organ in the world), and then enjoyed lunch with another couple from our ship who we found wandering the narrow streets like us.

Narrow street in Passau, Germany.  Sunny skies!

Kali and Scott lunching at a Passau cafe

The next day, we cruised to Regensberg with its famous Stone Bridge over the Danube.  Much of the bridge is being rehabilitated and is shrouded with scaffolding and tarps, but I did manage to find a section that was exposed in order to take a photograph (below)

Above Regensberg, the Danube becomes too shallow and unnavigable for ships the size of ours.  In order to proceed further "upstream," our ship left the Danube proper and entered the Danube-Main-Rhine Canal, a modern (1992) engineering marvel that links the Danube and Rhine Rivers.

A portion of the famous Stone Bridge in Regensberg, Germany

Since this blog is "It Just Comes Naturally," I had to add something natural.  This Blackbird (actually, a species of thrush like an American Robin) was singing from its lamppost perch in a Regensberg city park.  Its song was varied, melodious, and strikingly beautiful. 

European  Blackbird

One of the most famous bratwurst cafes in Germany at Regensburg

Our point of disembarkation was Nuremberg, Germany.  We docked about 15 minutes outside town, and then took a bus into town for an excellent guided tour.  Though Nuremberg was heavily damaged by Allied bombing during WWII, there's no evidence of the damage now.  The castle crowning a hill above the city looks like it did during medieval times, and there are beautiful, historic structures scattered through the city.  Much of the central city, however, is modern.

The Nuremberg Fortress crowning a hill in the eponymous city

A Nuremberg wedding (right side).  The half-timbered building in the center of the image was renown engraver Albrecht Durer's house

We had a good vacation and Viking Cruise Lines did everything in its power to make our trip exceptional and memorable.

Swamp Slog

One hundred forty years ago, an intense corporate rivalry inadvertently produced the largest wetland in my county, located just a quarter-mile south of my preserve.  In the mid-1870s, the Pennsylvania Railroad and Reading Railroad each were desperate to build a railroad linking Philadelphia to New York City.  The Pennsylvania Railroad chose a route that was slightly longer but which incorporated a straightaway that ran level and flat for dozens of miles along an old geological fault.  The Reading Railroad selected a shorter, more direct route that used the water gap eroded by my creek to penetrate the high, steep northern face of the geologic fault.  Each railroad company had to place tremendous quantities of fill in the wide floodplain of my creek in order to raise its tracks out of the floodplain, and this fill, in turn, impeded drainage toward the creek, thereby impounding the 40-acre wetland with which we are blessed today.

Field trip participants on the former Reading Railroad bridge over the swamp drainage channel

Because the wetland includes habitat that is unusual in southeastern Pennsylvania, the Philadelphia Botanic Club scheduled a field trip to visit the site on Saturday morning, June 6, and they asked me to come along for the walk.  Though I have walked in the wetland proper a few times, I usually stick to the railroad tracks when I explore.  The Reading Railroad tracks have been removed and are now part of a county rail-trail (about which I have posted before); the Pennsylvania Railroad tracks are still in use for commuter rail service.

Making our way down from the railroad bed to the marsh

The water in the wetland is deepest near the rail lines, then the land gradually slopes upward and becomes drier as the distance from the tracks increases.  Nearest the tracks, the wetland is a marsh with dense emergent herbaceous vegetation.  Further uphill, the vegetation grades to shrub-swamp.  And, in the driest areas, the wetland becomes a red maple-pin oak (Acer rubrum-Quercus palustris) swamp forest.  Our group of seven walkers at first scoped-out the wetland from the elevated railroad tracks, and then skidded down the embankment and "took the plunge" into the jungle led by yours truly, who got tired of just poking around the edge.  Fortunately (for the hike), we hadn't had much rain lately, so the wetland had little standing water and just a few inches of organic ooze.

Let the botanizing begin!

Almost immediately, we came across a pair of Eastern Box Turtles (Terrapene carolina carolina) in flagrante delicto; alas, they disengaged immediately.

The female half of an Easter Box Turtle pair

Further into the marsh, we found a nest likely built by Red-winged Blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus) last summer suspended between a few twigs .

Last year's nest, probably from a Red-winged Blackbird

An abundance of sedges (very challenging to identify)

Field trip leader Joe serving as a backdrop for pictures of a blooming sedge

One of the plants we were especially interested in finding was lizard's-tail (Saururus cernuus).  It's not that rare, but it's an interesting wetland obligate that's not extraordinarily common.  I was the first to come across the plant and squealed with delight at my discovery.  Then, as we continued across the marsh, we found huge expanses of the plant.

Our quarry:  Lizard's-tail (Saururus cernuus)

One of my favorite plants: parasitic dodder (Cuscuta spp.) (the orange "silly string")  How cool is that?

We finally emerged from the marsh and shrub-swamp into the drier swamp forest.  Here, there's no understory to impede walking because the large deer herd that finds refuge in this isolated pocket of wilderness eats most regenerating trees and shrubs.

Pin oak-red maple swamp forest in the driest parts of the swamp

I wasn't enthusiastic about participating in this walk.  It was on a Saturday morning after I had just worked a full week, and it involved a trudge through mud and extremely dense vegetation (think African Queen here).  But, you know what?  I had a great time!  I got wet and muddy and the company was simpatico.  When I got back home and told Kali about my morning, she said, "Despite your belly-aching, I knew you'd have a great time!"  She knows me better than I know myself. 

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A note to my blogging colleagues and readers:  Kali and I were on vacation at the end of May (blog post to appear soon), and I have been crazy busy since we got back.  I apologize for not having commented or posted recently.

National Audubon Society Scientists at My Preserve

Yours truly, second from right

Inexplicably, the National Audubon Society's Science Office is located in a nondescript office park a few miles from my preserve.  Despite its proximity, our preserve has no dealings with the folks in the Science Office.  However, several top ornithologists in the Science Office were in town for a meeting and asked the president of the local Audubon chapter for a good place to bird while they were here.  Naturally, the chapter president recommended my preserve.  Since some participants were from parts of the country where meadow-nesting Bobolinks do not occur, the ornithologists and I set off on Tuesday morning to try our luck in our native grasslands, but the birds, here last week, had moved on to locations further north.  Warblers were still abundant, though, and these professional ornithologists left satisfied. 

(Bald) eagle watch (me again)

After the group finished walking, the president of the Audubon chapter and I repositioned ourselves with his telescope to try to see the Bald Eagle nest in the preserve.  We saw at least one eaglet in the nest.  There may have been two eaglets, but the nest was partially obscured by deciduous branches, so we couldn't be sure how many birds were present.  Neither of the parent birds was in evidence; the parents must have determined that the young had grown large enough not to be threatened by predators, so both could leave the nest to seek food.

Springtime in My Preserve

Virginia bluebells and violets on a fence line

The Bald Eaglets nesting in my preserve have hatched two chicks.  Both of the eaglets seem to be doing well.  The parents have switched from feeding on roadkilled deer to fish taken from my creek - most likely hatchery-raised trout that our Fish and Boat Commission stocks for anglers.

There's a camera that takes still images every two minutes trained on the nest; the camera is about 500 feet from the nest, so the image resolution isn't always great, but some of the images clearly show two rapidly developing eaglets.  These are the first eagles nesting along our section of the creek in at least 160 years (other eagles have nested at the mouth of the creek adjacent to the Delaware River over the last few years, but they aren't nesting there this year).  If you enlarge the image below, you'll see the female to the left of the upright trunk and one of her offspring to the right. 

Bald Eagle mother and one of the eaglets

Weird Stuff (x3)

 

Now that I've got your attention with a provocative title and an image of the crocuses (finally!) blooming outside my back door, I must confess that this post has nothing to do with the natural world.  Read on if you dare.

Weird Thing #1.  A week ago, our neighborhood was stunned to learn about a murder-suicide committed by a local earthmoving contractor.  On Tuesday afternoon, news helicopters and police cars appeared at the home of the contractor, Chris, who had worked with our organization frequently over the past two decades.  Chris was a pleasant, cooperative, and agreeable 48-year-old who had gone out of his way on many occasions to help our land trust.  A few weeks before the killings, I had spoken with him over coffee as we waited for a plumber to finish a job so that Chris could backfill a trench.  I was teasing Chris about letting his membership to our organization lapse, and he replied, "Scott, you have no idea what I'm going through at home!" whereupon he told me the whole sordid story of his messy, rancorous divorce.  The weird thing about an otherwise all-too-common but no-less-tragic occurrence:  Chris strangled his ex-wife, stabbed her repeatedly in the neck, and then mutilated her body with a chain saw - after which he used the chain saw to cut off his right leg so that he bled to death.

Weird Thing #2.  Yesterday (April 6) was the first day we had temperatures above 70 degrees F here this year, and the skies were crystal blue.  Kali was off work for Easter Monday, so she did some volunteer land stewardship work around the preserve to get out and enjoy the perfect spring day.  After I finished working for the day and suggested we go for a walk, she informed me that she had been out all afternoon and was tired; she suggested I walk by myself.  Rather than just go for a walk alone, I decided to do a "power walk" to get my heart rate up to aerobic levels. (I can't run any more because of my "bum" right knee, but strenuous walking seems to be okay.)  So, I got out my iPod, my noise cancelling headphones, and I queued-up some of my favorite Scissor Sisters dance music for aural motivation.  Normally, I'm a pretty mild-mannered, self-effacing guy, but when I get into my power walk backed up by the Scissor Sisters (or the Pet Shop Boys), I feel like I could take on the world.  The weird thing is that the loud, rhythmic music coupled with a gait that I adjust to match the beat of the music transforms me into another person - someone I hardly recognize.  I'm energized, ready to tackle any challenge.  A bicyclist using a wrong trail or a dog walkers allowing her/his dog to roam untethered had best steer clear of me when I'm pumped up because I'll bite their head off.   It's tribal, hypnotic, empowering - and more than a little bit scary. 

Weird Thing #3.  This morning, Kali sent me an email with a link to an article in the Washington Post about Frank Sinatra: "Ol' Blue Eyes Still Sparkles".  The article begins, "Frank Sinatra would have been 100 years old on December 12, 2015, and already the commemorations have begun - an exhibition at the New York Public Library, a two-part documentary on HBO, and the reissue of several books.  The music endures, but so does the dirt."  In the article, the Frank Sinatra is quoted as having once said "All men are lonely."  In her email to me, Kali wrote, "I like the line that 'all men are lonely.' You seem like that at times."  Maybe it's not weird, but it really took me aback; I think we'll have something to talk about over dinner tonight.