Orgy at the Pool

An idyllic puddle in the woods, you may be thinking, just the perfect spot for a few minutes of meditation on an balmy spring evening. Think again.

This is actually a vernal pool, a polite term for a den of orgy. The shallow water roils with hormonally-charged frogs, croaking loudly enough to be heard a quarter-mile away. Perhaps not the most conducive spot for an evening of peaceful philosophizing, but a fascinating place nonetheless that deserves a visit.



The participants in this orgy are Wood Frogs, Lithobates sylvaticus. As their name implies, these small frogs are denizens of woodlands. Indeed, they have abandoned the water except for reproduction, which is explosive; after the first warm days of the spring, the entire population descends upon traditional breeding pools, and, after a few frantic days of calling, fighting, mating, and laying eggs, returns to dry ground for the remainder of the year.



A pool filled with several hundred calling male Wood Frogs is a scene not quickly forgotten. Their guttural croaking is reminiscent of a quacking duck. To get an idea of the experience, watch this video.

The males float around on the water, croaking and fighting among themselves. Paired sacs on the sides of their necks inflate as they call, and often they lunge through the water in pursuit of other frogs as they call.



Mating is a process of trial and error. The males grab every frog they can until they find a female. If another male is grasped, the assaulted male will squeal a "release" call to inform the other male of his mistake. As you can imagine, the pond water roils with the chaos.



Eventually, however, things work out and a male and female will mate. And, since I'm sure that you're as fascinated by frog sex as I am, I can't help but dive into the gory details. Almost everyone has seen frogs or toads mating in ponds, the male clinging for dear life to the back of the female. But did you know that frog fertilization is actually external? That's right--frog mating is a form of pseudocopulation known as amplexus. The male wraps his front legs around the female's body, assisted with special nuptial pads on his thumbs. As she lays the eggs, he squirts out the sperm, and so the next generation of frogs is conceived.



Wood Frogs are fascinating creatures. They are the most widely distributed frog in North America, ranging north of the Arctic circle. Such a northerly distribution requires extraordinary adaptations, and the Wood Frog's method of surviving the winter is truly fabulous: it freezes. It produces antifreeze, composed of glucose, which supports its cells while the water crystallizes. The brain is inactive; the heart stops beating.

Birds seem so boring in comparison!

Winter Stewardship

No, it wasn't a dream! I really do have a job wandering around outside looking at birds! I worked another shift Monday morning and once again thoroughly enjoyed
myself.



The biggest surprise came early in the shift. While pishing at a flock of chickadees at the edge of the preserve, I noticed a midget of a bird, wings crackling with energy, bouncing around in the underbrush nearby. "Oh, cool, Golden-crowned Kinglet." It had been awhile since I'd seen one in the preserve. Suddenly, the bird, which I had not yet glassed, opened its bill and uttered a snappy jid-it, seemingly indignant I had mistaken him for his cousin. Yes, a Ruby-crowned--a bird worth ignoring in California, but, here in Michigan, an excellent bird for the winter.



Compared to October and November, when the skies are full of flyovers, the January skies are bleak and empty except for the resident Red-tails or geese winging over. It was a pleasant surprise, then, when this Northern Harrier cruised overhead. It was a new campus bird for me.



It was a chilly morning, temperatures lounging a few degrees above freezing. Too warm for snow, but plenty cold for frost and stiff fingers.



The preserve was a farm back in the olden days. Some of the clues to its history are subtle, like the uneven ground from the tilled fields, but others, like the skeleton of this old car, are blatant evidence of the past.



A would-be white landscape now masquerades as a different place, a place much farther to the south with scarce snow, maybe Tennessee. The dearth of snow this winter is frightening. The woods are brown and steel-gray instead of white. Here and there, however, scraps of color--lichens or rose hips--can be found.



Even if it's the "wrong" color, the preserve still an art gallery with innumerable exhibits. Some are only visible if you kneel in the leaf litter with a critical eye. Beetles may belong to the phyla Arthropoda, but their sculpture outdoes that of some human artists I have seen.

What surprises are waiting in the woods for next time?

The Preserve

After a series of boring, frustrating jobs, I've finally landed one I genuinely enjoy: preserve steward in Calvin's ecosystem preserve. My responsibilities? Walk the trails, greet visitors, clear fallen branches, pick up litter, and, oh, watch birds.



It is tempting to surmise that frigid (well, actually, it's been extraordinarily warm this winter) woods are lifeless, but three hours of roaming through them will convince you otherwise. Bird numbers and diversity were low, as would be expected, but my wanderings produced a couple goodies, including a Northern Shrike and a Great Horned Owl. I had packed only my wide-angle lens, so the shrike in this photo may or may not be identifiable.



The woods really are beautiful this time of year. I will cherish the privilege of being paid to wander through them.

The Beginning of the Beginning

I took a deep breath, shoved open the heavy door, and practically swam out into the muggy Michigan evening. Almost instantly, a House Sparrow fluttered by my face, its chirping a triumphant cackle to my ear.

Darn. I had been hoping for a somewhat more audacious beginning to my campus list.

Ah well. At least things were only going to get better. And they did! First, a robin, then a Downy Woodpecker...

College orientation. Supposedly, a time to meet people and learn about the transition into college. For me, it meant getting a head start on my campus list for Calvin College. What else is there to do other than bird when you arrive on campus a couple hours before orientation even begins?

I jaywalked across the East Beltline for the first time ever and plunged into Calvin's ecosystem preserve. Chipping cardinals and cackling catbirds greeted me as I entered the brushy fringe of the preserve. As I ventured deeper into the forest, I added new species to my campus list right and left: Black-capped Chickadee, Tufted Titmouse, Red-eyed Vireo, Ruby-throated Hummingbird...

It would have been paradise except for the plentiful mosquitoes and deerflies. I swatted at them (I do not subscribe to the view that simply letting them suck alleviates the itching) as I strolled down the wood chip path, enjoying the evening serenade of wood-pewees and recognizing the familiar leaves of elms, beeches, and hickories. I was almost in a trance; it felt like those three years in California didn't exist and I had always resided in Michigan.

Whoops, eight forty-five! I was already late for the first orientation event. It's a good thing this is a birding blog--writing about orientation would take up way too much time!

The official campus list stands at thirty-five. Watch for updates beginning on August 30th!

It's Official

Yes, it's official--I've finally gotten around to deciding about college! I'll be entering Calvin College as a freshman at the end of August. Calvin is located in Grand Rapids, Michigan--only a couple hours from my old house outside Detroit. Needless to say, I'm super excited, especially since I already know so many people in Michigan!

For the geographically-challenged westerners who are probably reading this, Grand Rapids is on the west side of the Lower Peninsula, near Lake Michigan. Still clueless? Here's a map.



My mobility will be limited--I won't have a car or even a bike--though I'll do my best to mooch rides off other birders. However, the campus is very green (and there's a nice ecosystem reserve just across the street), so I should manage well on foot. Here's a satellite image of campus.



I'm going to enjoy my last few months of birding in California over the summer. My workload promises to be excruciatingly heavy, so I'll do less birding than I'd likely, but I'll get out--someway, somehow.