Lasers and Poker Chips

It's not Las Vegas--it's a wood thrush.

A small, rust-colored passerine (perching bird) fills the woods with rich melodies in minor keys.  Their dissonant and eerily beautiful song slides sweetly through every staff line on the bar, ringing in the following silence until you find yourself aching for the sound.

They harmonize with themselves.  Mammals like you and I have one opening in the airway to the lungs, called the larynx, from which we make sound.  However, some birds, such as the thrush family, have something called a "syrinx".  It's similar to the larynx, but instead of opening above the fork in the trachea, it actually opens at the fork, meaning these birds can make two sounds at one time.  Because of this, they harmonize with themselves, not only each other.

The final note of the wood thrush song is a testimony to that.  The flute-like tones that come before it are liquid and clear, but the final note vibrates harshly, quickly, like poker chips being thrown together; sometimes, it's slower, like the laser sound effect in movies, or like someone plucking a metal string that's been too tightly wound.

Right now, they're singing at all but the hottest parts of the day.  It fills my heart with something wonderful.

I'm not posting a link for the song because you can find it online, but I encourage you to come listen to the wood thrush in person.  Trust me, listening to it through speakers will never do it justice.

Photo courtesy of Lloyd Spitalnik Photos

Is that... ?

Emily, the new Environmental Education Coordinator, sticks her head inside the door.  I'm standing in the kitchen cleaning off the counters when I hear her ask, "Is that a copperhead?"

I turn to face her.

"A what?"  I see she's pointing to the rocks that line the side of the porch and, sure enough, a snake roughly 15 inches long is draped like a string across the largest one.

"It's weird, isn't it?  For a snake to be out at night?"

At this point, we're both crouched on the edge of the wood flooring, me on my knees, leaning my face out over the space between myself and the young snake.

"It's definitely a copperhead," she reasons.  "See the bow-tie pattern?"

"I've never seen one," I respond.

Copperheads are one of the three species of poisonous snake indigenous to Pennsylvania.  Earlier in the spring I mentioned the black rat snakes we'd been seeing, which itself is a non-venoumous snake.  So, for your viewing pleasure and knowledge, this is what a copperhead looks like:

Photo courtesy of Jeff Kubina and venomoussnakes.net

"Porch Sitting"

Where I'm from, "porch sitting" is a recreational activity that takes place on nice days between late spring and early fall, during which you... sit on someone's porch.  I've taken to "porch sitting" since moving down here, since the porch opens up right into the Preserve.  However, I discovered someone doing this activity on my porch today without me.

A broad-headed skink.  This little lizard was so fast, the first time I saw him this morning, I couldn't catch him.  I was partially afraid I might crush him if I grabbed him too hard, so I was afraid to really go for it.  When I saw him again in the afternoon, however, in the exact same spot, this time I brought a tool: a big, plastic cup.

I managed to scoop him and take one picture before my curiosity got the best of me and I stuffed my hand down to the bottom to see what he felt like.  He took this opportunity to launch out of the cup and run away, me chasing him across the porch, into the driveway, and up under some rocks (in my bare feet, no less).

Here he is, for your viewing pleasure:

Delicious Smells

Sweet Melissa.  Purple horse mint.  Lemon beebalm.

In the Sensory Garden at Strawberry Hill, plants are growing full speed with all of these alternating sunny and rainy days.  All the names above are for the same plant: lemon mint!

Plants in the mint family always have a square stem.  Even catnip--cat mint--is part of the mint family.  The flowers typically have four stamen and five united petals.  The leaves typically have rounded teeth.

The Sensory Garden acts as a dynamic area for those with sensory disabilities, like blindness.  I reach down, running my hands all over the Lemon Mint, and they come away smelling like yummy citrus fruits from faraway lands.  I dab my fingers on my neck because it smells so delicious.  It isn't the only fun plant in full bloom!  Come check out all the nifty little things in the Sensory Garden, and the Butterfly Garden that's attached!

Photo courtesy of the American Botanical Council.

Snakes in the Cupboard

I grab my ringing phone off the wall, "Hello?"

"Hey, so... there's a snake in my kitchen.  He's little, but would you maybe want to come and get it out for me?"

I hop in my car, drive down to Camp Eder, and my friend Gabriel is standing against the wall of the kitchen when I enter the cabin.  He's staring intently into one of his bottom cupboards.

I peek my head around the corner and see the cutest little baby black rat snake curled up in a cast iron frying pan, licking the air in our direction.  I let out my coos (just as any girl might) and scooped him up with one hand.

Since it was below 60 degrees outside (raining) and we'd found him indoors, I put him in a terrarium with some warm water bottles for the night.  I know in the photo he appears greenish, but he was completely gray with those black diamond shapes on his back.  His belly was iridescent.  Black rat snakes generally turn completely black (or all black with a little bit of white here and there) later in life, and this pattern on the young helps to keep them camouflaged.

I named him Blinky (ha!) and let him go just outside of my own cabin, hoping I might see less mice in my home over time.  I hope I see him again someday soon!

The New Ugly "Duckling"

One of the fifth grader's taking part in Waynesboro School District's Outdoor School at Camp Eder found this scary looking thing.  Check him out!

I had to compliment her (and take a photo) because I have never found one this big before!  Not only that, I've never found one in flowing water, either! 

If you look closely at the back, you can see two sets of wings forming under the exoskeleton of this "little" stream critter--the forewing and the hindwing.  This nymph will split its exoskeleton, uncurling its wispy wings to take flight over the water's surface.  The head will look almost the same as it does now.  This insect's abdomen and thorax will glint in the sun, iridescent blue or green, as it seeks out smaller insects (like mosquitoes) to feast on. 

Dragonflies hover like fairytales, captivating and just out of reach, zipping past before you can blink an eye.  When they finally come to rest on the blade of a rush, they allow admirers to study their shiny bodies closely; we have a moment of awe at their bright colors and interesting shape.

The Dragonfly: the Ugly Duckling of the insect world!

The Five Senses

Two three-hour stream studies before dinner.  A two-and-a-half hour block of animal presentations after dinner.

It has been a long day.

Everything about me is dog tired: my muscles, my feet, my eyelashes are like lead weights on my eyelids.  I've been outside all day long; my face and lips are sun burnt.

You'd think the last thing I'd want to do when I got home is be outside, but I find all I want to do is sit on the porch in the dark, admiring a perfectly clear, bright velvet sky harboring millions of little stars and a storybook crescent moon.

Everything is still.  No wind.  There's a chill in the air, but a long sleeved shirt is enough.

Something in the woods crashes through the leaves.  All I can tell is that it's going downhill and isn't very graceful.  It's probably a skunk or a opossum--something with short legs--but I also dream up bears and coyotes... (wishful thinking).  Whatever it is, it's less than 50 yards from me.

I find myself thinking, "If only I could see in the dark.  Like a cat."

I follow the creature, whatever it is, with my ears until it's too far away for me to discern any details about footsteps.  My eyes stab into the darkness.  I'm trying so hard to see just a little further, to make the little light from my living room window work more to my advantage, but no matter how hard I try, I just can't see well in the dark.

Imagine all the things I'd discover if I could.