This month I’ve been in the field half of the time and the other half in the office. Right now is time when birds from the north start migrating down to our preserve. It’s our job to prepare our wetlands so that these birds have the proper habitat they need to forage and rest. The typical preparation process starts with “resetting” the pond. What this mean is that we mow and disc “problem” areas within the pond before we flood it up. Areas with unwanted plants by birds are associated as “problem” spots. Once we reset the pond, we can start next step of pumping water into the ponds. Before we run the water pump, we check the water control structures (WCS) and make sure that it sealed tight before any water is added to the pond to prevent wasting water. We then open the valve associated with that pond and check other adjoining valves to see if they are closed since some are connected via underground piping. Once the proper valve(s) are opened, we initialize the connecting pump and double check that water is flowing out of the intended valve at the proper rate of speed. This process repeats approximately 43 more times by the middle of December since we have 44 ponds to manage.

During this time of the year, we also monitor the bird use within the ponds that we flood up. This means that as we flood additional ponds throughout the season, the workload increases as well. In addition to the new workload, we have to manage eight special ponds for the United States Geological Survey (USGS). USGS is conducting an experiment to test how well our wetlands absorb naturally occurring toxic methylmercury. Since these eight ponds are a part of the experiment, we have to treat them differently in accordance with USGS expectations. All eight ponds are to be filled up at the same time and specific instrumentations are to be placed within the WCSs.

Flooding up the ponds is my favorite part of this job. It allows all the plants and macroinvertebrates to thrive and with that an abundance of birds such as Canada geese, the popular sandhill crane, and black-necked stilts. Seeing these birds reminds me what kind of difference this job can have.

Another neat part of my job assignment this month is helping with grant proposals so that we can restore habitat for the federal-listed endangered giant garter snake (GGS). Since I have some GIS skills, I was tasked with creating maps to supplement the grant proposal text. The goal was to create a set of maps that could tell the entire story of what we were trying to accomplish with the money. It had to contain information such as proposed restoration sites, relevant habitat corridors, and urban infrastructures. The process of creating these maps took numerous edits and revisions; an important, but somewhat tedious task. I was also asked to create a literature cited page by using some existing sources from the previous Environmental Enhancement Fund (EEF) grant. Utilizing my previous education in engineering, we also calculated some dimensions of the proposed wetland restoration site. By helping our staff with this grant proposal process, I learn a lot about what applying for a grant entitles. It’s something I like to be more involved with later in the future of this internship, if possible.

Last Friday we spent the day at Ponkapoag Bog, a lovely spot just 20 minutes from Boston. Friday was one of the first days where it finally felt like Fall. The wind was blowing just right, and the colors were beginning to change–all four of us were happy campers! The day just got better as Ponkapoag is a magical spot. This bog is located just off of Interstate 93, in fact we could hear the interstate all day, but it is home to many endangered species (17 according to Backpacker Magazine…).

Scheuchzeria palustris, Pod-grass. An endangered species in Massachusetts.

The bog itself is one of the only kind in Massachusetts–hence all the rare and endangered species. Virtually untouched, it is a peaceful oasis amidst the hustle and bustle of Boston-life. The bog transported me back to Maine, where such lovely hideaway spots are common. Not only was the setting lovely, but we spent the day collecting Eriophorum virginicum, or cottongrass. A gorgeous plant that looks like pillows atop stalks.

Eriorphorum virginicum, Cottongrass

Until next time,

Julia Rogers, SOS Intern, New England Wild Flower Society

Over the past few days I have been collecting acorns with another intern, as this year is looking like a better acorn harvest than the past few. We noticed that about half of the acorns had perfect 1/8″ circular holes in them, and tried to avoid them assuming some insect larvae had burrowed its way in. The next morning, while sitting at the computer, I heard a very subtle chewing sound reminding me strongly of one time when a rat tried to chew through under door carpet into my room. I looked at the paper bag holding all the acorns, and saw a fat little larvae wriggling its way through a perfectly round 1/8″ hole near the base of the bag.

I did some research online, and it turns out these are the larvae of the acorn weevil. A female acorn weevil lays an egg into a young acorn, and as the larvae hatches and develops it feeds on the inside of the acorn. Once the acorn drops, the larvae emerges from the acorn and burrows into the ground, where it will eventually develop into an adult.

Acorn weevil larva at home

Acorns with holes

At the bottom of the bag we found a couple dozen larvae squirming around. They are almost comical in the way they move, they are so fat and legless. We fed them to my mentor’s black legless lizards, which I’m sure enjoyed the feast of what is likely their natural prey after many years of eating pet store crickets.

Then we used float/sink test to try to separate the infested from the intact acorns, assuming that the acorns with larvae would be more hollow and therefore float. It seemed to work ok, because all the acorns that floated either had holes or looked generally unhealthy. However, every time we look at the bottom of the bucket with the remaining acorn there are a dozen or so more larvae wiggling around, so there are many infested acorns that the test did not filter out. But I’m sure the legless lizards are very happy.

Acorns floating or sinking

A familiar site here in the Chihuahuan Desert of Carlsbad, NM. Photo taken by B. Palmer

I have just over five more weeks to go until I complete my CLM experience in Carlsbad, New Mexico. What a wild crazy ride it has been. I can officially say that I have put sweat, blood, and tears into my work, and have experienced every possible emotion imaginable. Enjoyment, ecstatic, sadness, homesick, disgust, anger, pain, fear, you name it. It has been one busy month, both mentally and physically.

When I last left you in my previous blog post, I mentioned that the rain was a large determining factor in my work here in the Chihuahuan Desert and southeastern New Mexico. When there was no rain to be seen in the usual monsoon season of July, there was not a seed to be found. We down here in Carlsbad were getting worried that our collection season may have been cut short due to the lack of rain. In early August, some rain was showing up, but we were still having a difficult time finding plants for collections. Sure we had gotten eight collections in the first two and a half months here, but that was nothing compared to the other SOS crews we had heard from. We were practically waiting for the weather in order to be doing our work.

Eight different collections that took place during the first half of the internship. And ONLY eight because we were waiting for the rain to bring more. We waited long enough to be able to fit all these into a box and save on shipping to the Bend seed extractory. Photo taken by B. Palmer

Since then, I have found that, when it rains in the desert, it pours. IT LITERALLY POURS. Storms roll in around here in a blink of an eye, and these are not the types of storms that one wants to be in while in the field. Thanks to the many tropical storms that blew in from the Gulf, flash floods have been a regular thing around here the last month; I suppose this is what the normal monsoon season is typically like. However, one of the wildlife biologists here mentioned that if not for the tropical storms that occurred in the last few weeks, there would have been a good chance that Carlsbad would have missed out on rain this year. But also thanks to those tropical storms, Carlsbad has gotten more rain than anticipated. The plentiful desert rains even kept us in the office for a while; this was not in fear of getting a little wet, but rather in fear of the fierce flash floods that appear to be common during the monsoons. In the end, the rain has been a blessing, and now everything is “Coming Up Roses.” I guess I can thank the tropical storms for the plentiful collections that are currently going on, as well as a busy and very neat job.

It is amazing to see how rain can transform a landscape so drastically. Not even a month ago, this landscape for merely sand, some patches of Shinnery Oak, and a few small Sand Sage bushes. Now, sand dunes and hills for as far as you can see are completely covered in yellow asters! My, how the flowers brought in the busy bustle of happy pollinators! Photo taken by B. Palmer

Oh my, how the desert evolves as soon as water is introduced into the system. The landscape completely changes here! Where there was once sand is now engulfed by a sea of Artemisia filifolia, Heterotheca subaxillaris, and Helianthus petiolaris. In places that I saw just dry gypsum soils, hard biocrust, and Mesquite skeletons are now covered in yellow snakeweed (Gutierrezia sarothrae), Bouteloua of various species, and quivering bunchgrasses blowing in the warm desert wind. The desert transforms quickly in ideal times, and I am grateful to have been here to see it.

Similar transformations are occurring all over Carlsbad. This particular gypsum soil area that was particularly dreary and dry is now a sea of Oenothera rhombipetala. Photo taken by B. Palmer

One of the many breathtaking views of another collection site, thank you rain. The little bush on the right is Sophia (currently known in the genera Dermatophyllum) secundiflora, Texas Mountain Laurel and one tedious collection. Photo taken by B. Palmer

In just the last few weeks, collections have been plentiful. Among the plentiful aster collections, I did my first grass collection. I even identified it in the field all on my own, and collected it all on my own! For someone who does not know grasses well, it has been invigorating to learn about them, and the satisfaction from figuring some of them out all by myself has been a substantial feat.

Nassella tenuissima, the first grass collection of the season here in Carlsbad. The fluffy bunchgrass has mostly been seen growing in the shade of the Pinion pines and Junipers. Photo taken by B. Palmer

We were also fortunate enough to do a collection of Texas Mountain Laurel, otherwise known as Sophora secundiflora. It is a beautiful little evergreen pea-family tree, producing glossy, obovate leaflets and woody legumes with red, poisonous seeds. These seem to be one of the few plants here in the Chihuahuan Desert that lack any form of pokey, hurtful modified leaf or epidermis (as many of you may better know as spines and prickles). However, these plants seem to be opportunistic, as we only found them growing in the presence and protection of those nasty, mean, pokey plants that you typically find in the desert. Not only that, they were found on steep mountainsides and deep, rocky drainages of the Dark Canyon, part of the Guadalupes Mountain range that the famous Carlsbad Caverns are a part of. It was not an easy collection; however, it did not stop us ambitious interns to crawl through thick shrubbery of unpleasant plants and up rocky hills to complete this collection. Maybe it was the hot muggy days, scratched up arms, rolled ankles, bug bites, or maybe even just the sunburn talking, but this particular collection will always remain one of my stronger memories of this internship, although in the end for the better.

Collection bags are full of Sophora secuniflora legumes…and this was just half of the collection! Photo taken by B. Palmer

Other memorable collections to have taken part of were two separate cacti collections. This was the kind of collection I thought I would be a part of when I first got to Carlsbad, and at first sounded like it would not be something our mentor wanted to collect…I could not imagine why. But due to the circumstances of having no direct mentor in the office, we made the authoritative decision to collect whatever we saw could be fruitful, as long as it was native. This included the cacti we collected: Opuntia engelmannii and Cylindropuntia incarnata. The cacti proved to be fruitful! We collected buckets-full of cacti fruits and sent them off to the seed extractory right away due to the fruits being fleshy. What an experience!

We used leather gloves for our cactus collections. This was not enough to save our sweet soft hands from the terrors of spines and glochids, as you can see from the gloves. Photo taken by B. Palmer

Despite their ways of protection against us fruit thieves, you must admit the cactus are beautiful plants. At least from a distance. Photo taken by B. Palmer

Here, other Carlsbad CLM intern, Meridith McClure, is packaging the fleshy fruits of the Opuntia into plastic bags to be sent off within the hour.  Photo taken by B. Palmer

Of course, collecting cacti seeds also meant collecting herbarium vouchers. Pressing cacti can be a dreadful task, and if not done correctly, the cactus can continue to grow in the plant press as you are attempting to dry it out. I was forced to cut the cactus in half, scoop out the fleshy inside, and essentially only press the “skin” of the cacti in order to prevent any future growth of the plant. One foul sailor’s mouth and two big, swollen handfuls of glochids later, I managed to get some cactus squashed down in the plant press! This will forever go down in history as “the day Brooke pressed her first spiny succulents…successfully!”

We are no experts, but got help from experts afar in order to get these in a plant press! I suppose now that we have gotten through our first cactus pressing, we can now be called experts too! Photo taken by B. Palmer

Six herbarium vouchers later, we are blessed with a very full plant press! Photo taken by B. Palmer

Collecting for Seeds of Success has been the priority throughout my duration of the internship, but I have also gotten to participate in other cool things going on around the office (After all, in my employee description, I am considered a “Wildlife Biological Technician”). One thing I did earlier in the month was help out in a little soil erosion control project. With the crazy heavy rains here, there are certain areas that are subject to easily erode away more so than other places. One of the rangeland folk in the office is in charge of maintaining areas that are subject to damage, and he needed the interns help to control a specific area. He used our man power to fill burlap bags with mulch, and created small barricades to prevent any more soil loss in specific areas when it rains. He mentioned that ten years from now, you wouldn’t even be able to see the burlap sacks and little fences, that nature would take its course from there and cover our work with grasses and other flowers that will help root down the soil.

This was one of the two barricades we put together that day. It will help the land behind the sacks stay in its place, and over time will become overtaken by natural plants to do the rest of the work, and slow the soil erosion there. Photo taken by B. Palmer

I was also able to participate in a non-motorized boat training class that was offered a few weeks ago! If I ever work with aquatic plants or river studies in the future, this will have been a useful training. We learned how to get around in canoes and kayaks, and what to do when you tip your canoe over and such. It was an absolute blast to learn, and I hope I can use my training in the future! It was a nice way to spend a hot, Friday afternoon in the Desert.

Oh, and remember that milkweed planting I took part of earlier on in the internship? I am happy to report that although many did not take root, there are still a few surviving transplants out there! We had high hopes in creating Monarch Waystations throughout Carlsbad (see my previous posts to learn more about the monarch waystations). We had a lot of plants that didn’t survive the transplants. But I am hopeful that others can learn from our mistakes and experience of this year. My biggest hope is that next year’s group of CLM interns will be able to take on another milkweed planting task, and that it will go better than this year did!

One survivor of many Asclepias latifolia that was planted about a month ago. This year’s plantings may not make it into Monarch Waystation status, but I hope more projects like this in the future of Carlsbad will! Photo taken by B. Palmer

All in the end, I am still very privileged to be here, here in this forgotten desert that not a lot of people have heard of. Yes, I am ready to go back home, but I only have a month and a half left…a miniscule amount compared to the looming of five months away from home that seemed like so long ago. I am still entranced by the clouds painted on the sky over flat plains of desert. Every time I go out into the field, my breath is taken away by the beauty of the desert that so many have not seen and probably will never see. When it rains here, it POURS. I have found this to be true for life as well. This has been one whirlwind of a year. It has been one crazy event after the other. But all we can really do is take what we can from our crazy experiences, and leave the rest behind. Make a bouquet to use now, and sow seeds that need to be planted for a later date. Despite being homesick, I am still enjoying myself here in the unconventional city of Carlsbad, New Mexico. I am excited for what curious adventures the next month and a half will bring me.

The flat landscape here often brings out the beautiful depth of the clouds, and I cannot seem to get enough of this site out here. If I can’t be near my Colorado mountains I so dearly miss, at least I am pampered with beautiful sites such as this. Photo taken by B. Palmer

Although the pedestals here are an indication of an unhealthy ecosystem, I could not get over how treelike Sand sage could be in a barren land known for its oil and gas. Photo taken by B. Palmer

We cannot forget the beauty of the desert lies solely on those plants meant to be seen from a distance. Photo taken by B. Palmer

And of course, through thick and thin, and through blood, sweat, and tears, a botanist’s attire is not complete without her sunhat and a smile. If you don’t love what you do, you are not in the right place. Photo taken by B. Palmer

Wishing you all safe travels and exciting adventures as summer has officially turned into fall. This is Brooke Palmer from the Carlsbad, New Mexico, BLM field office. Until next time!

Well, coincidentally Nick also chose this day to post on the blog, so here goes making a post that isn’t so redundant! Wish me luck…

Wrapping up AIM

With our AIM sites wrapped up in early August and a healthy layer of dust coating the truck we’ve been using, it looked like Nick and I were settling in for the office life. Luckily, various people around the office had some small projects for us to do or help out on, and Nick and I typically jump on those opportunities faster than you can say “I’ve never seen Longmire”.

An ongoing project has been to help a former CBG intern-turned-grad-student on her experimental plot at Welch Ranch Recreation Area. Damen and Justin typically help us out with this as well, because it is incredible how all of the plots are basically weeds. Trying to pull out bindweed, get the roots, and leave the grasses that she actually planted in the plot intact has been quite the challenge. Luckily, an interesting discussion, banter, or moments of temporary insanity help pass the time while grappling with all the bindweed, Russian thistle, and various other weeds.

Other projects have included learning how to map NISIMS species, cheatgrass monitoring, and helping teach a local high school’s field trip. During the NISIMS trips, we have been pretty lucky to see some awesome moths and butterflies, as well as interesting mushrooms as a result of one of the first entirely rainy days here in the high plains. I also narrowly avoided stepping on not one, but two snakes that I could have sworn were funny-looking sticks. At least they weren’t rattlers!

Hera buckmoth found on a NISIMS excursion

Legendary BLM intern, Justin, showing Nick how NISIMS is done via Trimble

Office work has been…office work. After all the data entry into DIMA had been entered, it was time to print and file it. Not the most exciting of tasks, but necessary none the less. I will say, the benefit of now being mostly in the office is that I can actually use a restroom when nature calls instead of scouting out an acceptable shrub to duck behind. Luckily, the current NISIMS project seems to be much bigger than anticipated, so Nick and I could be looking at more field time in the near future to break up the monotony of the cubicles.

Free-time Well Spent

Recently, I had the pleasure of showing my mom and sister around my little corner of Wyoming. After not seeing them for 5 months, it was awesome to grab them from the airport and do some things I have been meaning to do since arriving in Buffalo. While my mom was in town, we visited a neat little place called the Brinton Museum. This small museum features many Native American artifacts as well as local artwork and has a delicious cafe! We then had a slightly competitive game of Cosmic Bowling (read: glow bowling) at the local bowling alley that was something out of the Big Lebowski. After mom left, my sister and I had the chance to be outdoorsy. We hiked around the Cloud Peak Wilderness Area on an awesome trail, ending up at a very scenic lake. This was followed in the next couple of days by visiting a dinosaur museum & hot springs park in Thermopolis (dino museum was beyond awesome for such a small town!) and trekking out to Devil’s Tower in the Eastern part of the state. I was sad to see them leave, but grateful they could visit!

The Dinosaur Center in Thermopolis has one of two Archaeoptyrex fossils in the world on display!

A bubbling hot spring in Hot Springs State Park

Admiring Devil’s Tower

Other brief highlights of the past couple of months:
-Hiking around and checking out some sweet waterfalls in the Bighorns
-Finding out about a free concert in Lander that featured Lake Street Dive
-Summiting a peak in the Wind River Range
-Relaxing by Lake DeSmet during the hot days of August
-Participating in a pick-up soccer league the town had for the duration of the summer
-Attending my first pow-wow

I believe that about covers things for now!

Forever Weeding,

Corinne Schroeder
BLM’s Buffalo Field Office

This past week was hugely productive for our team! All in all we made 36 collections between three groups. That means Fall has definitely arrived. We also managed to make a wide array of collections, as opposed to earlier in the season when we were making many collections of the same species.

I started off my week at Patuxent Research Refuge, a collection of contiguous tracts owned by the US Fish and Wildlife Service (as is the case with many of our sites), around Washington D.C. I was really excited to see that a rather large population of Asclepias syriaca or common milkweed along a power line corridor – right where we had noted it was the last time we were there. As I was alone, the collection took a bit longer than I was used to. Many of the pods had already opened and shed their wind-dispersed seeds. The rest were either still green and closed or partly green and partly moldy. The most tedious part was picking through the pods to find ones that were both mold-free and fully mature. One trick we learned from last year’s collections is that the pods can be picked when they’re still green and the seeds are fully matured, but before they fluff out and float away. Nothing is more frustrating than trying to stuff more milkweed seeds into a bag that keeps spitting out the ones you’ve already put in it. One really cool thing I saw a few times was that a few seeds here and there had already germinated. For those not familiar with A. syriaca, it requires stratification to germinate (or a thorough soaking in Gibberelic Acid), so spontaneous germination before any bit of cold weather is a bit strange.

Monarch caterpillars on Asclepias syriaca

My next stop after an awesome stay in the always pleasant Chestertown, MD was Tuckahoe State Park. I met up with my mentor, Amanda, there to take a leisurely paddle up the Tuckahoe Creek while furiously collecting Hibiscus moscheutos (Crimsoneyed Rosemallow) seeds. As is typical of the Malvaceae family, the capsules were insanely mucilaginous with all the rain we were having that week and in the preceding days. Our cloth bags were practically dripping with a snot-like substance. They were so wet, in fact, that our collection didn’t dry even after being spread out on newspaper every night, until 4 days later. And the bugs! There are these little bugs that lay their eggs in the fertilized ovaries of the Hibiscus capsule. When the seeds are mature, the little jerks eat their way out of the seeds, leaving empty seeds with a single large gaping hole in the side. They then crawl out and fly away to continue their life cycle. Unfortunately for me, the majority of the bugs in our collection decided to eat their way out and fly around in my car for the rest of my trip. I can’t describe how many bugs I had crawling all over me, all over the windows, all over my luggage – it was insane! Amanda and I also collected some Decodon verticillatus, or Swamp Loosestrife. That ended up being a partial collection, since most were not ready yet.

Decodon verticillatus capsules

Mucilaginous Hibiscus moscheutos capsules

Those ugly Hibiscus moscheutos capsules started off as flowers much like this pretty one

Next for me was Myrtle Point Park in St. Mary’s County, MD. There I made quite possibly the worst collection to make by yourself – Cenchrus tribuloides, or Sanddune Sandbur. I had forgotten my gloves back in my car, and was already pressed for time, so I ended up having to make that collection bare-handed. Even though the mature fruits come off the panicle quite easily and with little resistance, those things hurt like you wouldn’t believe. The spine tips on the lemmas are armed with retrorse barbs, and let me tell you, when those things stick into your skin, good luck getting them out. I only ended up bleeding in two spots, but both times I bled enough to drip blood off my finger tips. The rest of the injuries I sustained were from the very tips of the lemma awns, and for the next few days, even just driving hurt. But I was really excited to say that I had made that collection. If I could do it alone and without gloves, there’s no excuse for anyone else!

Menacing Cenchrus tribuloides plant

Cenchrus tribuloides raceme – even more menacing

My last stop for the day was Mason Neck State Park in Virginia. It’s one of the sites we had a permit for last year, but that I hadn’t ever visited, so it was definitely a treat for me. I wasn’t able to make any collections there since I arrived too late to visit the one part of the park I intended to visit, but I did get to survey some new areas. It was pretty fruitful though – I found a really large population of Sagittaria latifolia (Broadleaf Arrowhead) and in the same spot, a population of Leersia oryzoides (Rice Cutgrass).

Sagittaria latifolia leaves and inflorescence

I may not have ended that day until around 9 PM, making it a 14 hour day, but as I tell everyone that asks how I like my job, I wouldn’t rather be doing anything else!

Sunset from Mason Neck State Park

The following day I started at Occoquan Bay NWR and made collections of Panicum virgatum (Switchgrass), Typha angustifolia (Narrowleaf Cattail), and Rhus copallinum (Winged Sumac). The Typha and Rhus were awesome collections to make. Both were ready to be collected, and it doesn’t take much to make a full collection. And true to form, most grasses aren’t very straightforward or quick collections.

Rhus copallinum with characteristic winged rachis

Typha angustifolia collection underway – no, they’re not swamp corndogs, they taste terrible

Hibiscus moscheutos and Rhus copallinum drying in my hotel room

After Occoquan I went to Caledon State Park where I met face-to-face with one of our contacts working with the Virginia Department of Conservation and Recreation. I also was able to make another collection of Typha angustifolia.

Viburnum prunifolium blushing

I then took to the road again and headed for one of the many units of the Rappahannock River Valley NWR Complex. I did loads of scouting since I had never visited that particular unit. I was a little disconcerted to learn that a lot of “warm-season grasses” there were planted, but in the coming weeks I hope to find out which particular species that includes, and maybe I’ll be able to return to make a collection or two.

I ended the day at my new favorite burger joint – NN Burger in Tappahannock, VA. They make the best burgers I’ve had anywhere, with such toppings as Brie, Apple Onion Relish, Red Wine Reduction, Field Greens, and Balsamic Vinaigrette on their Porch Burger. If that doesn’t sound good, you simply don’t know good food. I finished off my meal with a Nutella milkshake! They sure don’t skimp – I could taste the hazelnuts, which I can’t say for any other Nutella flavored food I’ve had. It was a great ending to a long day!

Worth every last penny and then some

My last day was spent at Belle Isle State park where I collected the highly requested Distichlis spicata (Saltgrass), as well as Fimbristylis castanea (Marsh Fimbry) and Typha angustifolia again. I was especially excited to collect the Distichlis, since it’s been extremely difficult to A) find a population large enough consisting of female plants (Distichlis is dioecious), and B) they are terrible at producing seed, so making a collection of 20,000+ seeds tends up being very difficult.

Fimbristylis castanea in a collection bag

Distichlis spicata spike

Distichlis spicata and other saltmarsh grasses made for a gorgeous view

My final stop for the week was New Point Comfort Preserve, a Virginia TNC property. There’s a really great salt marsh there with tons of great species like Limonium carolinianum (Sea Lavender), Salicornia depressa (Virginia Glasswort), and Symphyotrichum tenuifolium (Perennial Saltmarsh Aster).

When I finally got back to our home base at the North Carolina Botanical Garden, I was able to see the fruits of my labor. It was quite impressive! Maybe less so still packed into brown paper bags, but in the end I made 14 collections. Not too shabby for a solo week!

A week’s worth of seeds

Can’t wait to see what next week has in store for us.

Jake Dakar

SOS East – North Carolina Botanical Garden

Rufous hummingbird–  The birds often rest for 10-20 seconds to recover from the stress of handling before they fly away.

As I sit in the office in Escalante, I can’t believe my time here is almost over! The fall rains have come to this formerly hot and dry desert landscape, and a familiar chill is in the air once again.  Except for the one main highway that runs through town, none of the roads here are paved.  The remaining roads are made of clay and silt, which makes them pretty dangerous when it storms, and impassible when the scourge of floodwaters literally wash them away.  Back when summer was in full swing and the area was more reliably safe to traverse, our team was able to conduct surveys of many different animal species on the monument.  Our boss, Terry, partners with the Hummingbird Monitoring Network, so we spent many early mornings driving to beautiful sites along slick-rock rivers and in the crisp mountain forests.

A typical day goes something like this:

Drop-net feeder trap

We arrive to work between 4:30-5:30 am in order to make it to the sites early enough.  The birds are more active and numerous before sunrise.  We begin by getting all the banding equipment in order and setting up the drop-net traps.  If we have time before the survey begins, we scramble to make a fire to keep the frigid winds at bay.  Then, eyes still red from lack of sleep, we begin trapping! The traps have a feeder hanging in the center.  Once a bird lands and begins to drink, we trip a wire from about 15-20 feet away.  A circular net drops around the feeder and makes contact with the base.  The bird is unharmed and still free to fly around in the enclosure.  We simply grab a small mesh bag, walk up to the feeder, and very gently reach in and get the bird.

Teeny tiny hummingbird band!

Terry is trained by the network to examine and band the birds, so once we deliver the birds to him, we begin to take data.  First, exact species, sex, and age is confirmed.  We then look to see if the bird already has a band.  If not, the bird’s tarsus is measured to make sure the band will fit.  Too big and the band either falls off or gets material wedged inside.  Too small, and you risk injury to the bird.  Each band has a unique number used to identify the bird if captured again. Banding species of any kind is a very precise and meticulous process, but is especially important in this situation as hummingbirds are obviously very small.  Can you imagine using a special pair of pliers to apply a metal band to an ankle that’s barely bigger than a piece of pencil lead?  Special care is always taken to make sure the birds are not injured.  I’m glad Terry knows what he’s doing, because I’m not ready for that kind of pressure!

Feeding post-banding

Next, we gather information about the bird’s specific markings, colors, and condition.  We measure the birds weight, length of the wing chord and culmen (bill), how much fat is present, wear on the body’s different feathers, and more.  The four most common hummingbird species we encounter are: Black-chinned, Broad-tailed, Rufous, and Calliope. We all try to work as quickly and efficiently as possible, so that the birds don’t endure more stress than necessary.  Hummingbirds have extraordinary metabolisms, so they lose a lot of energy in the short time we have them. Because of this, we make sure to feed each bird before releasing them.

Fire: our saving grace on the mountain during those cold 30-40 degree mornings

Each survey period is precisely five hours long.  We take care to measure the change in temperature, wind speed, and cloud cover every hour.  We also record the number of birds that simply fly by to check the feeder out, rather than stop for a drink.  Birds are discerning creatures, and many of them are rightfully skeptical that their usual feeders are now surrounded by a mess of unintelligible equipment.  Usually after the first 1-2 hours, the number of birds we trap takes a dive.  This is a time for us to  desperately run to the fire and warm our freezing hands.  Once the survey period is over, we pack up and find a nice spot overlooking a lake or river to eat lunch, remembering all the fascinating species we caught that day!

Though getting up at 4:00 am wasn’t always easy, it was definitely worth it.  Those early mornings were some of the best of the whole season, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything- not even more sleep.

Lauryl McFarland

Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument

It might be the changing of the seasons, or the sudden shift to spending more time in the office, but for my blogpost this round, I decided to highlight the last few weeks in the form of a photo journal/zine. Enjoy!

Natalie

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park and Preserve