Joy is...

in the leaves!

Wordless Wednesdays Begin



Hickory Leaves

Food and Water

   The garden at Owl's Knob, which has been neglected, is still producing kale. The leafy vegetable doesn't mind a light freeze and can almost grow year round. Though it's leaves will become skeletal in summer as Japanese beetles feast on them, they regain their composure in fall and leaf out again. It is an easy crop to grow in sun or partial shade and it doesn't mind a drought or heavy rain. I would say that kale is the ultimate apocalypse vegetable!
    But how do you eat it? Though I like snacking on its leaves raw or adding baby leaves to a salad, not everyone likes the strong flavor. Kale is great steamed along with other sweeter vegetables like squash or carrot. But my favorite way to cook kale is to saute it with soy sauce and oil or butter. This can be done in a stir-fry or by itself. Either way, it is important to not burn the kale leaves. To prevent burning you can add a splash of water, wine, or soy sauce. Keep the vegetables steaming more then frying.


The well at Owl's Knob, in which the water is 100 feet underground, is not functioning. Either the 12 volt pump is clogged, or the water table dropped. But the system is not working. However, the spring in the holler is still flowing. All throughout my life I have been drinking from this spring. At ONSC I ask children if water coming straight out of the ground, spring water, is clean. They always say no. When I tell them that the typical backpacking water filter uses clay to filter river-water, they are puzzled. But only then do they accept that the water, filtered by the clay in the ground, might be clean.
    Deep in a gully there is a mossy spring, shaded by maiden-hair ferns and old magnolia trees. The water comes trickling out of the bedrock, flowing over a slab of limestone and dropping into a sink hole that leads to Terrapin Creek, a tributary to the headwaters of the Buffalo river.
    To retrieve water from the trickle that hugs the bedrock, you must take a leaf and a rock. The leaf is placed in the stream of water with its steam hanging just over the bedrock's ledge. Then the rock is placed on top of the leaf to keep it in place. Thus, a spout is created, and the trickle of water, seeping over the stones, is launched into my jug.
Patiently, I wait for the gallon to fill.
It is like waiting for kale to grow.
Slowly but surely, nature provides.

More Adventures with Arthropods

Dirt Dauber carried a paralyzed wolf spider

Morning Glories

 This weekend, while spending time at Owl's Knob I spotting a dirt dauber carrying a paralyzed spider. I wrote recently about how dirt daubers sting spiders, paralyzing them, then store them inside their nest along with an egg. I snapped a picture of this rare instance before the dirt dauber became startled and flew off, leaving the paralyzed spider on a leaf. I touched it to find that's it's legs were soft, not rigid like they are when the creature is dead. The spider's legs were bound up close to it's body, but after touching it, the spider twitched. It was an interesting find.

Walking stick on a
Red Oak Leaf

I tried to show my son how fascinating the paralyzed spider was, but he didn't see anything special about it. Later on however we came across a praying mantis which he was very curious about. We also found a huge walking stick in a red leaf. I also found it to be a bit strange that the morning glories outside my green house were blooming.
It is interesting that it seems like more life is around me all the time. But I don't think that there is any more to see this past year than there ever has been before. I believe it is my perspective that has changed. Now that I write about nature on this blog and work at the Ozark Natural Science Center, I notice more all the time. Just imagine what you could see if you made an effort to notice more too.

Changes: Both Outside and Inside

Ripe Persimmon among Changing Leaves

     Leaves all over the rolling hills are changing color. Persimmons are orange like the carved pumpkins on porches. Caterpillars are fat and falling out of the trees. Eagles are returning and hummingbirds are departing. The harvest has passed and the market is full of a kaleidoscope of delicious foods.
     The other morning frost tinged the world for the first time this season. To many Americans the colder weather makes their houses become warmer and their heating bills higher. But for anyone heating their home with wood alone, the cold weather presents a new struggle.
     Firewood must be cut, hauled, and split. Kindling must be kept dry and plentiful. Each morning you wake to frosty clouds rising as you exhale. As you stumble to the fireplace in your pajamas, you hope that coals are still smoldering under the ashes. If there are no coals the fire must be started from scratch. It becomes a science and a ritual.
     This year, staying in a modern house, I have a gas wall furnace. It requires no splitting, starting, or stoking. The thermostat is set and regardless of what the weather does we stay effortlessly comfortable. Removed from but not unaware of the environmental impact of drilling for the fossil fuel we are burning.
     I miss the flames. I miss the intensity. I even miss feeling the winter's crisp grasp.
 

Ringed Salamander (Ambystoma annulatum)

Taken by George Imrie on his farm south of Eureka Springs, Arkansas.
George has been laboring to provide a safe haven for these creatures.

The ringed salamander (Ambystoma annulatum) is secretive and endemic to the Ozarks. Once upon a time these salamanders were seen by the hundreds each autumn, but now you are lucky to see just one in your lifetime. These endangered amphibians live under log, rocks, and in the ground. Their main defense is to hide themselves away. They have soft black bodies striped with yellow so camouflage fails them. Their tiny legs make it look laborious to walk and they are fairly defenseless especially when as an egg or tadpole. Therefore, they live hidden, eating grubs and worms all year.

Once a year they emerge from hiding to mate and lay eggs in the clean fishless pond they were born in but finding clean water without fish is becoming harder and harder. The mating event always takes place on the first cool rainy night in autumn. This year we had a cool rainy night in late September, but then again this past week we had another similar night. The ringed salamander took advantage of both nights and matted twice this year. Both times, I was lucky enough to see one at the Ozark Natural Science Center where I work as a teacher/naturalist.

This first time I saw a ringed salamander it was trucking across the trail at theOzark Natural Science Center, ONSC, after the students had all been sent to bed in the lodges. Only the teacher naturalists remained awake and we were making our way to bed when we found a salamander out in the open on a trail near the pond. We watched it walk on stubby legs, its long fat tail slithering like a snake’s behind it. I felt privileged to witness its annual journey by night but disappointed that I didn’t have my camera.

The second time was during the day, after the rain we had this past week, when I had a group of students from Bentonville’s Baker Middle School. My group crowded around a log where we had found a ringed salamander hiding. It tried to dig itself to safety at first but eventually gave up and crawled along the ground close to the log. My students, a group of ten 5^th graders, were mesmerized. They sat silently watching it with awe and respect. I knew that this was the first time any of them had seen a salamander. Many of them didn’t even know what it was until I told them.

While they watched the salamander, I read and discussed all I knew about the species. I told the children that they only come out once a year, so this is a specially occasion. They lay from 300-500 eggs but 99 percent of those eggs will never mature into adults, many will be eaten as caviar, others as salamander tadpoles, and many more as young adults. The ones that survive will not be able to reproduce until five to eight years of age, which is a long time for such a venerable creature. Also by breathing through their skin any type of pollution in the water or soil will kill them. Their mere existence is a bio indicator of a pollution free environment. As they got to know this fantastic creature, I encouraged them to name it. They couldn't choose between Sally or Steve until I informed them that because it was smaller in size it was most likely a male but it would be hard to be sure. He became Steve the Salamander and with that he was no longer a forigen wild animal but a friend.

The experience changed their perspective immediatly. For the rest of our time together, two days and one night, they were respectful and in awe of everything we found. They named every caterpillar, spider, and millipede we found, befriending all species. An old man once told me, "You can't force children to grow up and protect nature, you have to teach them to love it, then they will WANT to protect it!" I think that Steve the Salamander may have taught these kids such love.

It is Raining Caterpillars and Acorns Instead of Water After the Drought

     In the past few weeks caterpillars have been falling from the tree tops. I would have thought that this year would have been a hard year for any organism, especially a plump insect on the bottom of the food chain. But it seems that the caterpillars are fat, happy, and raining from the tree tops. I hope that this means good things for butterflies, moths, and other pollinators.

     Earlier this year I took note of the size of some acorns outside my house in Fayetteville. The tiny acorns made me think that the summer's awful drought would have a devastating impact on the oak tree's acorn production.  This could have started a butterfly effect that would have rippled throughout the forests and made species big and small starve.
   
 However, this week was near Beaver Lake and found that the oak trees there were literally raining fat acorns. Upon further investigation I believe that white oak trees are producing a healthy crop of acorns while red oak trees seem to have tiny acorns. Perhaps this is because red oaks produce acorns biannually while white oaks produce acorns annually. But in that case I would have guess that the white oaks would be doing worst than the red. I am sure there are many factors that have contributed to the acorn production but I am curious if anyone else could comment on this matter.

 Are the oak trees around your home raining acorns? Are the acorns tiny or huge?

   

Ozark Area Community Congress Annual Event

The Ozark Area Community Congress, otherwise known as OACC, meets every year to share ideas, knowledge, and to celebrate the Ozarks. Though the event has taken place at the Ananda Kanan yoga retreat center for years, it used to be at a different location somewhere in the Ozark bioregion each time. It attracts environmentalists, healers, and friendly country folks from all corners of the Ozarks.

This year was their 32^nd annual meeting and I drove to Willow Springs Missouri to attend. As child my father took me to OACC just about every year. I didn’t appreciate the workshops and collective group that got together back then, I just wanted to play with Rose, a friend who I saw only once a year. As I became a teenager Rose and I kept in touch with letters but eventually we grew apart.

As an adult it is still partly about meeting with like-minded people and talking over breakfast or late into the night around the campfire. But it is also nice to attend workshops. In past years I have lead a workshop. Most workshops are organized and held by the people attending the event. As people arrive on Friday they write descriptions of workshops they want to teach on pieces of paper and stick them to the ever changing schedule board. The people who come to OACC make it what it is; therefore, it is different every year.

But this year was entirely different because I am a mother now. The weekend became keeping Zane happy in a strange environment with strange people. My son started out by getting car sick during our four hour long drive. When we arrived at the lovely Anana Kanan yoga retreat center, the opening circle event had just begun. We stood in a large circle outside the dining hall with a grand old white oak tree as a key member of the group. I tried hard to listen to the announcements but Zane was anxious to run and play. His anxiousness did not fade for dinner or bedtime. He ran around outside and through the dining hall giggling. Though most people thought it was cute, I found it to be exhausting.

The second day Zane was still disturbed by the strange event. He refused to eat the delicious vegetarian food in the dinning hall; it just wasn't like meal time at home. Though he was interested in the other children there, he just didn't have the social skills to play. Most of the day I spent following him up and down the stairs between the kid's playroom area and the dining hall.

I was only able to attend one workshop on primitive skills and edible plants. Bo Brown from the First Earth Wilderness Schoolin Springfield Missouri taught us how to knap flint, make stone tools, weave rope out of dogbane fibers, and how to make a fire using a bow drill successfully. The we went on a short plant lore walk in which everyone taught everyone else what they knew about the plants we came across. At was a great break from the kid.

When I returned to being a mom, I found Zane even more disturbed than before. I tried desperatly to feed him but he still didn't want to eat. He suddenly fell asleep while eating dinner and so let him snooze in my arms while I watched the annual open-mic talent show. Though there were many talented people, my favorite performance was singer/songwriter Stan, the Eco Troubadour. His songs were fun and geared towards kids but deep in meaning and full of information. During one of his songs, Zane woke up and immediately started clapping.  

As we got ready to go on Sunday, I realized I had missed out on many much of the weekend. It would have been easier if Zane had been older or if I had brought along a helper. But as it was, I had to stay in mom mode all weekend.

While I packed the car to go, a tattered butterfly landed on Zane and rested there. I coaxed it onto my finger. Two children came by and wanted to hold it as well. We all took turns letting the delicate creator rest on our fingers. It brought great delight to all involved. And I was reminded why I go to OACC every year. Moments like this is what it is all about!

Exposed Exoskeletons

I left the dirt dauber nest on the window sill. It rained. The mud structure melted away like ice cream on a hot day. The mummified spiders, however, did not. Their exoskeletons were left lying, exposed, in the muddy rubbled, like a pile of bones, revealed, once the flesh has rotted away.

Arachnid Mummies Daubed in my Wall

Yellow or Black Dirt Dauber Nest

We recently bought a house built in 1931 located on a quiet street at the edge of Fayetteville. The house was cheap and needed a lot of work. We started by ripping off the musty wallpaper and moldy carpet. Underneath, the walls told stories. One room was a hot pink template covered in teenage graffiti. The living room had old fake wood paneling on the walls, which we tore down just other day. The open cavities in between the studs were full of ancient spider webs and dirt dauber nests. I carefully took one dirt dauber nest out of the wall for examination.

Dirt or mud daubers are often feared a much as hornets or red wasps, but daubers lack aggression and rarely sting people, even though they build their nests in and around houses. Female dirt daubers construct clusters of chambers out of clay. She rolls clay into a ball and flies with it to the nest sight. Carefully she daubers the clay balls together one at a time until most of one chamber is built. Then she hunts for spiders while the male protects the nest from parasitic wasps looking for a place to their lay eggs.

When the female dauber finds a spider, the dirt dauber must fly down and sting the arachnid without getting stuck in its web. The poison in the dauber's sting does not kill its prey, instead the spider is paralyzed. The dauber collects these live spiders and packs them into the chamber. When it is full, she lays an egg inside and encloses the chamber with a bit more mud. When the egg hatches, the larva, a grub-like creature, eats the paralyzed spiders as it grows. Since the spiders are not dead, they don’t rot. Eventually the larva makes a cocoon, and transforms into an adult mud dauber which breaks out of the nest and searches for a mate to start the process again.

With careful precision, I cut open the ancient nest I had found encapsulated in the old wall. Inside spiders lay like mummies. The abdomens of many were hallowed out; they had been eaten alive. Looking at these arachnid skeletons, I saw spiders from a new perspective. Often I mistakenly assume these carnivorous creatures are at the top of the arthropod food chain. But alas, there is yet I higher bug. Don’t forget, there is always a higher bug!

Ancient paralyzed spiders in a dirt dauber nest

Food, Sex, and Cannibalism

A Black and Yellow Argiope (Argiope aurantia) eating a grasshopper

I had been away from Owl’s Knob for almost a month. Upon returning I found that my home was in the care of beneficial arthropods. The two that fascinated me most were the spider and praying mantis. These two species may appear to be quite different, but when it comes to the two most basic primordial instincts, food and sex, they have a lot in common.

Both arachnids and mantids are strictly carnivorous. They both wait for their prey to wander their way instead of hunting it down. Then they attack quickly and devour indiscriminately. The arachnid is on a liquid diet so it uses digestive venom to liquefy its meal before sucking the prey’s inners out. The mantis is the only arthropod that can turn its head 360 degrees. When it sees its prey it moves with extraordinary speed and viciously bites off its prey’s head with giant mandibles. As a gardener, I appreciate both of these arthropods because they eat my garden pests. But if I were an insect, I would fear these predators with every millimeter of my exoskeleton.       

Both of these arthropods identify themselves as predatory carnivores to such as extent that copulation is a problem. In the case of most species of spiders and mantids, the female eats the male either during or after sex. Though this act of sexual cannibalism is simulated by the arthropods’ intense instinct to devour anything that moves, it also has practical purposes for the species.

For arthropods that practice this sexual cannibalism, their short lives are almost over anyway. Once the male has had sex, his purpose in life has been fulfilled and he will die of old age in either a few hours or a few days. Therefore, from a logistical standpoint, it is only proper for his final good deed to be offering himself over as nutrients for his offspring.  Also, if the female eats the male’s head during copulation, the male’s dying body will inject more sperm quicker, which insures a better chance for fertilization.

Still, not every male is completely enthusiastic about becoming his partner’s meal. Many species of spiders have elaborate ways to avoid being eaten. Since spiders have very poor eyesight (even though they have, like, eight eyes), the first step is to be recognized as a male spider and not be mistaken for food. So some spiders do lovely eight legged dances. Others excrete pheromone laced silk to attract a mate. Many males play the strings of the female’s web like a harp and then she plays a rhythm back, creating a romantic song that gets everyone in the mood.

Once the female spider recognizes her mate, the male is not always safe. Some spiders will still play it cautiously by leaping on the famale and then back off before she can eat him. Others sneak under her and because they are so much smaller they can mate with her virtually unnoticed. One species uses his silk to lasso the female’s legs together so he can mate with her and safely escape with his life before she untangles herself.  

The praying mantis is even better known for sexual cannibalism than spiders; however, the wild praying mantis female rarely eats the male. The myth that the female praying mantis always eats the male started when scientist observed them in terrariums. Apparently, when in captivity the female almost always bites the head off her mate during copulation. This might be because she fears her food sources might be limited in her captive environment.

She might also worry more about the fertilization process since in captivity she sees no other available males. When a male praying mantis loses his head he also loses his brain and all inhibitions, while the ganglion in the male’s abdomen, which controls his basic motor functions, is still intact. Therefore, the male has a better chance of fertilizing the female’s eggs without his head because he copulates with wild abandon.

The feeding and sexual habits of arachnids and mantids are fascinating arthropods. Though I would not want to exist in their world, I enjoy their presence in mine. They are welcome guest in my garden and around my yard.

Preying mantises mating (and not she did not bite off his head).

Confused Producers in an Unforgettable Summer

Fiddle head on a Christmas Fern
(Polystichum acrostichoides)

      Fiddle heads usually uncoil in spring. But this year the erratic seasons have confused plants all over the Ozarks. In August and the north slopes of mountains, which usually retain moisture even in the dry months, are dusty and covered with dying plants. Ferns are the first to go since they are not drought tolerant. This summer has been so severe that we call 90 degrees cool and a summer shower a decent rain. The plants have reacted similarly. Only they did not get the memo that said it is still summer. After dying back, plants are emerging again as if it is spring. 

 

Hairy Petunia (Ruellia humilis)

        The Hairy Petunia is a beautiful wild flower that blooms from June until August most years. But June and July were so hot and dry that this flower refused to show its pretty head. Now that it is almost September, I am finding the flower all over my yard, among oak leaves that have fallen early as if it were autumn already. The seasons seem jumbled.

        Though I still feel like summer is upon us, in comparison it is cool and wet. Still, I was shocked to discover this orange mushroom growing in the crevices of rocks. August is no time for mushroom hunting. Normally a few summer showers won't bring out the fungi, but this year it may be their only chance. I found multiple puff ball mushrooms and then this brilliant orange mushroom that I have not been able to identify. If you think you know it, please comment!

New Peach Tree Leaves

 

        I have been worried about many trees, primarily the fruit trees in my yard. No fruit tree on my property produced any fruit this year, they were all conserving their energy. The peach trees looked like they were not going to make it through the summer earlier this month. Leaves fell as they do in autumn. The bare tree looked dead. However, just the other day I found it producing new leaves. I hope these new leaves will give the tree enough energy to make it through the winter. But I worry that the tree will exert too much energy creating these leaves only to shed them again in the aproaching season. Only time will tell.

Stunted White Oak Acorns

         Among trees the nonnative trees have had a harder time than most native trees. I've noticed sugar maples and northern pines, which are native to a cooler land to the north, have had a particularly hard time of it. Oaks are hardy and so well suited for the Ozarks that even a drastic change like we have seen this year has not been killing them off. However, they are not producing acorns like they should. Acorns, like leaves, have been dropping early. Even the ones that have hung on are not reaching even half of their normal size. This will certainly have serious repercussions for years to come. Acorns are a major food source for a wide variety of animals that are at the bottom of the food chain. When there is a food shortage at the producer level of the food chain, every living thing above it is effected. Even after the year has passed, we will see the ripples of this dreadful summer for years to come. Long after the heat subsides and the rains return, its effects will continue to be felt.