09 May 2008

Milk Snake Mimicry

This milk snake, Lampropeltis triangulum triangulum, visited our back door last week. Milk snakes received their name from the myth that they drink milk from cows (milks snakes can often me found in barns, but they’re looking for mice, not milk). This is one of our most beneficial snakes, eating lots of rodents. They also eat other snakes, including venomous species.
Unfortunately, this snake is often killed for its superficial resemblance to the copperhead. The coloration of the two snakes is somewhat similar, although the pattern is different. Some biologists think this is a case of Batesian mimicry – where one species has evolved to imitate the warning signals of a venomous species. Besides similar coloration, milk snakes also employ jerky head bobs – a typical copperhead movement. Where milk snakes subspecies coexist with venomous coral snakes, the milk snakes have coloration similar to the coral snake’s rings of red, yellow, and black.

12 April 2008

Kicking Climate Change Out of the Bushes

April 6, 2008

On a visit with family in Lee’s Summit, Missouri, my brother, Mike, and I took a walk to a piece of undeveloped land surrounded by suburban sprawl. The area was a mix of abandoned pasture and young Post Oak woods. It belonged to the retirement village where my parents live. The maintenance crew kept the abandoned pasture mowed and had created a few garden spots for village residents.

Since it was early April and the start of the spring neotropical bird migration, I grabbed the cheap binoculars I keep in my car just to see what I could see. We meandered through the field without seeing any particularly special birds (Eastern Wood Peewee, Ruby-Crowned Kinglet, Cardinal, Hermit Thrush, and Brown Thrasher).

Things changed as we turned for home. Walking past a copse of mixed Post Oaks and Osage Orange, we flushed an Armadillo! Technically, named a Nine-banded Armadillo.

I have seen Armadillos before, but never this far north. As a student in Springfield, Missouri in the 1970s, I’d heard rumors of Armadillos in the Ozarks, but had never seen on there. By the 1990s, some of my Missouri friends were reporting Armadillos in an off-hand, noncommittal manner a little north of Springfield. But seeing on in a suburban green spot surrounded by suburban Kansas City was a true surprise to me.

A quick web search on the Armadillo revealed a source that notes that Armadillos can’t survive if the average January temperature is below 28° F.

Upon returning to my father’s apartment we mentioned the Armadillo and my surprise. My Dad doubled the surprise by telling of sighting a Roadrunner in the area a few years back. Birding purists will want me to note that is was a Greater Roadrunner.

Again, I was surprised. Once in the 1970s, I observed a Roadrunner in the extreme southern Ozarks along the Arkansas Border.

Biologists have been observing numerous species shifting their distributions as a result of climate change. Often it’s difficult to attribute all of a species distribution shift to one simple cause. However, Armadillos and Roadrunners were considered southern species and not generally known as far north as Missouri until recently. To me it was something of a shock and surprise to be confronted with apparent affects of climate change in such a personal way.

My typical scientific caution requires me to state that it is my speculation about climate change causing these distributions shifts. Things are always more complicated.

Some biologists feel that habitat change, fire suppression, and a evolutionary change in Armadillos are significant factors. For Roadrunnners, sources note that the birds are expanding out of the southwest, but they don’t speculate as to the cause.

Gordon T. Maupin

02 April 2008

Postscript to a Hope


March 13, 2008

Spring fever hit The Wilderness Center today. It was 50° F. Last week we started speculating about the first wildflower.

There are several species that might be first, but Draba (pronounced DrAba, the first “a” is long as botanists like to say things) is always among the first few to appear. Draba is the genus name. The books call it Whitlow Grass. It’s not a grass, it’s a mustard. There are a handful of similar species that might show up on a chemical free lawn. Beside The Wilderness Center flagpole is Draba verna.

When Draba blooms, it sends a slender stalk up from a rosette of basal leaves. The tiny flowers have four tiny white petals. Each petal has two lobes so at first you think there may be eight petals. The early rosettes are so small you can almost cover them with a dime. You won’t notice Draba unless you search “for spring with [your] knees in the mud.”

Aldo Leopold dedicates a short essay to Draba in “A Sand County Almanac.” It’s hard to “out essay” the master, so I’ll offer a couple of quotes. “…it is no spring flower, but only a postscript to a hope.” “All together it is of no importance—just a small creature that does a small job quickly and well.”

There the naturalists around the office might disagree with Aldo Leopold. It is not a postscript to a hope; it’s a harbinger of spring, warmth, and sunshine. But then, Leopold knew this because he dedicated a small essay to a plant that almost no one notices.

If you don’t know Leopold’s book, you should. His nature essays are poetry in the form of prose. They combine the beauty of the language with the beauty of nature.

Gordon Maupin
Photo by Joann Ballbach

25 March 2008

Hooded Merganser


March 23, 2008, Easter Sunday

We are host family for a Pakistani student at the College of Wooster, Maaz Khan. Maaz joined our family for Easter Dinner. He had to return to his job at the college so my son, Isaac and I left Orrville at about 2:30 p.m. to drive Maaz back to Wooster.

Just as we rounded the bend in the road where Crown Hill joins Back Orrville Road we passed a small, shallow pond. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a Hooded Merganser. Actually it was a male-female pair. The male was in full breeding color and obviously displaying to the female. The bright white “hood” caught my eye.

No one was behind me, so I stopped the car and backed up to let the Maaz and Isaac get a look at the birds. I know I shouted “Hooded Merganser” the instant I saw the bird and both of the boys were startled. When I backed up, they were both wondering what this crazy guy was doing.

Then they saw the birds. The male was alternately lifting and lowering his hood as he kept trying to impress the female. After a few seconds, another car came up behind me, honked and I had to move on.

Neither of the boys are what you could call birders. In fact, neither are interested in birds at all. However, my obvious enthusiasm for the Hooded Mergansers was contagious. We were all smiles all the way back to Wooster. Maaz made it to work on time. As Isaac and I returned to Orrville, the birds were still on the pond. We paused to admire them through the cheap binoculars I keep in the car just for misadventures like this.

Wow! In my opinion, a male Hooded Merganser in breeding plumage is one of the most beautiful birds you’ll ever see.

Last February, on our winter Yellowstone ecotour, our group saw a male Hooded Merganser on the Yellowstone River. It was a high point of our drive that afternoon.

Another memorable encounter with a Hooded Merganser happened when I was a college student myself. I recall sitting in a cattail marsh at sunrise in hope of getting some good duck photos. It was cold. The sun rose and transformed fog on the water into a beautiful bright rose-colored backdrop. A beautiful Hooded Merganser was silhouetted against this glowing mist. I must have shot half a roll of film on that one bird.

Hooded Mergansers are small fish-eating ducks. The birds dive for their prey and apparently find fishes by sight. They have a transparent third eyelid called a nictating membrane. It covers the eye when the bird is under water to protect it.

Gordon Maupin

29 February 2008

Leap(frog) Year


It seems that leap day is the perfect time to announce The Year of the Frog. That's right - 2008 has been designated "The Year of the Frog" in order to spread awareness of global amphibian declines and promote conservation efforts. Over 3,000 amphibian species are threatened with extinction- that's 50% of amphibian species! Causes of amphibian declines include habitat destruction, climate change, UV-B radiation, pesticide/herbicide use, disease (Chytrid fungus), and multiple factors working together (synergism).

The Chytrid fungus, which is affecting amphibians across the globe was probably introduced from the transport of Xenopus frogs(1) - those flat, funny-looking creatures sold in pet shops and laboratory supply catalogs. The Xenopus frog was first shipped around the globe for use in human pregnancy tests. Urine from a suspected pregnant woman was injected into the frog; hormones in the urine of a pregnant woman would stimulate the frog to lay eggs within 48 hours. Obviously, today, more advanced pregnancy tests are available, but Xenopus frogs are still used in many laboratory studies. There is still much work that need to be done to understand the chytrid fungus and its implications for amphibian survival.

So, what can you do to help your local amphibians? Don't use herbicides or pesticides around wet areas - RoundUp is highly toxic to all life stages of amphibians(2). Protect permanent and temporary ponds. Don't release captive animals to the wild - they may carry disease that can devastate a local population. If you are a teacher, use giant toads (Bufo marinus) in your classroom for dissection instead of native frogs. Most importantly - learn about the amphibians in your area - there's still hope!


~Carrie Elvey

To learn more about The Year of the Frog, stop by Amphibian Ark's website:

1. Weldon C, du Preez LH, Hyatt AD, Muller R, Speare R. Origin of the amphibian chytrid fungus. Emerg Infect Dis [serial on the Internet]. 2004 Dec [date cited]. Available from http://www.cdc.gov/ncidod/EID/vol10no12/03-0804.htm
2.Relyea, R.A. (2005) The lethal impact of Roundup® on aquatic and terrestrial amphibians. Ecol. Appl. 15:1118-1124