Life on Mount Washington

August 17, 2016

This little guy was begging us for food. Juvenile grey jays, like this one, may never develop the ability to find food for themselves if they get handouts from humans. When winter rolls around, he may starve.

Mount Washington is home to an alpine resort, ski village, mountain biking club, hiking trails, and many other tourist attractions. So, needless to say, the challenges faced by wildlife and vegetation are usually rooted in human causes.

Vegetation has a particularly challenging prospect. The face of the mountain may be criss-crossed by ski trails, chair lifts, and hiking paths, but crowds of people still feel the urge to tromp out of bounds. The authorities do their best to keep the folks on the trails but the imagination of many people dictates that they pursue the better view through the underbrush.

Colorful lichens grow on the rocks by the trail. They are often the first organisms to colonize mountainous habitats so, when an area is disturbed (such as a trail), they may cling on when other forms of vegetation have been vanquished.

Animals also have to cope with human influences and some are all to eager to take advantage of our sentiments. Possibly the most famous example of animal-human interactions is that involving food. On Mount Washington, the grey jay is the primary offender. This small bird is so accustomed to human handouts it will even land on outstretched limbs, provided there is a snack in the palm. Like deviating from the trail, a close encounter with a mountain bird is nearly impossible to resist. Of course, the birds don't really benefit from being fed. For starters, junk food isn't healthy for anyone. Second, when the juvenile birds become addicted to the human trash, they won't know what to do with themselves when winter rolls around. In other words, feeding the birds, eliminates their ability to fend for themselves. They never learn. As a result, populations of grey jays have actually declined because youngsters aren't surviving the winter.

A western meadow fritillary warms itself on the grey stones lining the paths on Mount Washington. The insects on the mountain generally avoid people, but we did encounter a nest of small wasps that swarmed anyone who stood too long on the boardwalk overlooking the Forbidden Plateau. Fortunately, they were too small to cause people any discomfort.

On the other hand, people learn to love the things they can touch. A bird landing on a child's hand is a very positive interaction with nature for a kid. It teaches him to love nature and that may be more important than that particular bird's ability to survive. Every kid that grows up loving wildlife is a victory for nature.

A grey jay junky casts a hopeful glance in my direction.

Memory Lane: Bugs in the Yard

Buprestis lyrata, near Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. July 4, 2009. Canon PowerShot A430. 5.4mm. 0 EV. f/2.8. 1/30.

Buprestis lyrata, near Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. July 4, 2009. Canon PowerShot A430. ISO 100. 5.4mm. 0 EV. f/2.8. 1/100.

Lygus sp., near Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. July 3, 2009. Canon PowerShot A430. ISO 200 5.4mm. 0 EV. f/2.8. 1/200.

Neoneides muticus, near Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. February 7, 2007. Canon PowerShot A430. ISO 100. 5.4mm. 2 EV. f/2.8. 1/13.

Polyphylla decemlineata, near Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. July 11, 2007. Canon PowerShot A430. ISO 100. 5.4mm. 2 EV. f/2.8. 1/2.

Polyphylla decemlineata, near Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. July 11, 2007. Canon PowerShot A430. ISO 100. 5.4mm. 2 EV. f/2.8. 1.0.

Polyphylla decemlineata, near Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. July 11, 2007. Canon PowerShot A430. ISO 100. 5.4mm. 2 EV. f/2.8. 1.0.

Acilius semisulcatus, near Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. April 6, 2009. Canon PowerShot A430. ISO 100. 5.4mm. 0 EV. f/2.8. 1/60.

Araneae (spider), near Campbell River, on Vancouver Island, British Columbia. June 13, 2009. Canon PowerShot A430. ISO 200. 5.4mm. 0 EV. f/2.8. 1/100.

PHOTO OF THE WEEK: Gulf Fritillary

Here's another butterfly photo from Florida. This one, a gulf fritillary (Agraulis vanillae), was photographed on September 14 of this year (2013) at Big Lagoon State Park. It is one of the most beautiful, obvious of the butterflies in this area. I can't think of any other reason I photographed it. The caterpillars are nothing like the adults: thorny, dark, and generally deadly looking. The month of September really was a fabulous month for invertebrates down here. I was seeing all kinds of butterflies, caterpillars, and spiders. In fact, that month I was able to see my first green lynx spider. They are the coolest looking critters in the area but, due to the rainy weather, I didn't haul out my camera for a photograph. Maybe next year.

PHOTO OF THE WEEK: Northern Scorpion

The scorpion is one of those animals that you either love or you hate. This is the northern scorpion (Paruroctonus boreus), a placid species not known to ever sting people. But if someone did get stung, lab tests indicate that the sting is no worse than that of a bee. I've never picked up a scorpion before, but I've come pretty close. If I'd known what species this guy was when I was taking the pictures, I think I would have tried to handle him. Apparently, this is done by merely allowing the invertebrate to crawl onto ones hand and let him wander around. Just don't stick your finger into his back or, like a child striking out when you startle him, the scorpion will probably do what comes natural. As John Acorn the Nature Nut once said, "Scorpions; they look real cool, but nobody loves 'em much." I don't know what's not to love. This one was photographed at the Columbia River Gorge of Washington and Oregon on May 11, 2013 shortly after dawn.

PHOTO OF THE WEEK: Banana Spider

I thought that if I dedicated a post to a butterfly (everybody loves butterflies) than I had better dedicate a post to a spider (not many people like spiders). This gall (elegantly named Nephila clavipes) is the perfect candidate for one very obvious reason; she is drop-dead gorgeous. And besides all that, she is nearly the breadth of may hand from leg tip to leg tip, hence the name of banana spider. She has a number of other common names, but I like to call her Nephila. I know it's a she because the males are all little tiny blokes. Interestingly, the genus Nephila has been found as fossils which have been dated to about 165 million years ago. Living fossils like that are a challenge to Neo-Darwinianism. That species (N. jurassica) had a leg span of 15 centimetres (6 inches) and is the largest definitive spider fossil. The web of this spider is also of interest. The silk is so strong and beautifully gold (hence the common name of golden silk orb-weaver) that people sometimes try to make clothing out of it. This individual was photographed on September 21 of this year at Blackwater River State Park in the panhandle of Florida. Anyways, I hope this girl helps you appreciate the beauty of some of the other members of creation who might not seem as loveable at first glance.

Dragonfly Design

I almost feel bad posting on an insect that has received so much publicity, but I think I can come at it from a refreshing perspective. For starters, dragonflies are often considered flying creatures so, although they certainly seem to be a "creeping" sort today, they may have been created on day 5 of the creation week with the other flying animals (see Genesis chapter 1). However, dragonflies actually spend the majority of their lives underwater so perhaps they are better considered "swimming creatures." Some species can hunt on land (Grzimek, 1975), however, so perhaps the original kinds behaved this way, given that the world might have been more moist before the global flood. From that original kind came a menagerie of different species diversifying to fill the various ecological niches available to them. Those that found themselves in the Carboniferous forests grew huge, larger than many of today's hawk species. Damselflies, though superficially similar to dragonflies, do not share a common ancestor, I believe. This becomes apparent when one views the two kinds when they are in their aquatic nymph stage. Damselflies have large featherlike protrusions from their abdomen.
When one thinks of dragonflies, they typically envision a four winged, predatory insect of the air. The truth is, dragonflies are more of an aquatic species (as was mentioned above). They may spend up to five years as an aquatic nymph, breathing with gills (Dreves, 1993). They are amazingly well designed for this aquatic life cycle, doing anything a dragonfly would do except for breeding. To escape predators (like giant diving beetles or aquatic salamanders) they even have a system of jet-propulsion in which water is forced out the anus of the dragonfly (Mill et Pickard, 1975).
The mature dragonfly only lives a few weeks to several months, though this is when we commonly notice them. Not only are they simply obvious flying around any body of water, they are also brilliantly coloured during this stage.
Even as adults, dragonflies are amazingly well suited to life on the wing. They have four wings, each of which can manoeuvre independently of the others to propel the insect in whichever way it choses (up, down, sideways, backwards, you name it). While we might be inclined to think that our own eyes are the superior system for vision, they would hinder the dragonfly on his mission. With large compound eyes and a swivelling head, the dragonfly can see nearly 360 degrees of its surroundings (Dreves, 1993). The tens of thousands of lenses on these eyes are far better at picking up movement than simple eyes and can see a mosquito 40 meters away (Dreves, 1993), which is the equivalent of us seeing a mouse 1.5 kilometres away.
Catching prey can be difficult. Mosquitoes are relatively easy, flying a meagre top speed of 2 kilometres per hour. The average dragonfly at 29 kilometres an hour has no difficulty catching hundreds of mosquitoes in a day. Horseflies are more difficult, however, with an astonishing top speed of 145 kilometres per hour (speedofanimals.com). The great British-Australian naturalist Robin Tillyard claimed to have clocked a southern giant darner at 97 kilometres per hour (Tillyard, 1917), but even this debated number wouldn't be enough to catch a speeding horsefly (50 kilometres is considered a better estimate of top speed). Maneuverability and planning are the key to the dragonfly's success.
People have always been fascinated by the amazing designs of the dragonfly and the military often attempts to copy the design in their own fighter jets. Engineer Stuart Burgess recently wrote on the way that engineers are copying the dragonflies four-winged design for their own micro air vehicles (Burgess, 2012).
In order to do all this brainy hunting, dragonflies need to warm up every morning. They are cold blooded and need sunlight to give them the copious amounts of energy they will need. Once again,the intelligence of the dragonfly comes into play. To heat up as quickly as possibly, they tilt their wings and body to catch as much of the sun's rays as possible. As the day gets hotter, and the dragonfly feels a need to cool off, it will tilt its body to absorb as little of the suns rays as possible. Doing this allows the dragonfly to maintain a constant temperature throughout the day.


References:

Burgess, Stuart. 2012. “Bug Bots”. Answers. Vol. 7, No. 1. Jan-Mar 2012. Answers in Genesis—USA.

Dreves, Denis. 1993. “Dragonflies: Designed to Dart”. Creation. Vol. 16, Issue 1. December 1993. Creation Ministries International.

Grzimeck, HC; Bernhard. 1975. Grzimeck’s Animal Life Encyclopedia Volume 22. Visible Inc Press. Detroit. Page 348.

Mill, P. J. and R. S. Pickard. 1975. “Jet-propulsion in Anisopteran Dragonfly Larvae”. Journal of Comparative Physiology A: Neuroetholoy, Sensory, Neural, and Behavioral Physiology. Vol. 97, No. 4. Pages 329-338. http://link.springer.com/article/10.1007%2FBF00631969

Tillyard, Robert John. 1917. The Biology of Dragonflies. University Press, Cambridge.