Just Brew It

Coffee. It's as essential as air or water to millions. Many of you can't face the day without your morning cup or mug. It's even spawned a whole culture, involving social etiquette and a mysterious language.

I never picked up the habit myself, despite threats like, "You will drink coffee when you need to pull an all-nighter in college" or "work the night shift at the hospital" or "survive vet school" or "hold down the emergency clinic over New Year's Eve weekend when the local puppy rescue has a parvo outbreak." I may be the only adult on the planet who doesn't know how to stand in line at Starbuck's and order a tall mocha frappuccino, a grande double shot espresso, or a venti latte half-caf no-foam, extra hot.

But, I know a lot of you like coffee, and a lot of you like birds and nature, too. And, if you do, you should be drinking shade grown coffee.

Let us backtrack. It used to be that coffee fincas (plantations) in Central America were practically nature preserves. Coffee, an understory plant, grew beneath the natural canopy of native trees and bushes, little or no chemicals were used during production, and the birds flourished. That included "our" birds, neotropical migrants like warblers, vireos, and tanagers that nest in North America and migrate south for the winter.

Now, things are different. Shade-grown coffee plants were replaced with sun-loving varieties, which required chemical fertilizers and pesticides for increased yield. Now, the native plants are stripped away, exposing the topsoil to erosion and sacrificing all that lovely bird habitat.

What's a caffeine-addicted birder to do? Why, drink shade-grown coffee, that's what. Bird-friendly, fair-trade, organic shade-grown coffees are becoming more widely available because of demanding eco-aware consumers. More than just buying and drinking it, promote shade-grown coffee at your local bird club meetings, nature centers, or specialty stores. Ask your favorite coffee shop to stock up on shade-grown coffee. And spread the word to others via your blogs by attaching the logo below to your site.

For more information on this topic, see Kenn Kaufman's article "Brew the Right Thing" in his Bird Watcher's Digest column "After the Spark," Jan/Feb 2009, and Paul Baicich's BWD article Nov/Dec. 2006. Or, go to Kenn and Kim's blog here, or to the Audubon Coffee Club via this link http://www.auduboncoffeeclub.com/

Cheryl Harner, of the Weedpicker's Journal, inspired this post.

Vulture-fest

For vulture lovers and wanna-bes: Vulture ID made easy.

Some of you have no problem with identifying vultures. The only one you see is the Turkey Vulture.
Those of us who live in the eastern US, roughly south of the 40th parallel, must separate Black Vultures from the more common Turkey Vultures. Here's how:

The photo below shows a Black Vulture on the left, and a Turkey Vulture on the right. From a distance, and disguised by the tree branches, there doesn't appear to be much difference. If you get up close and personal, though, you begin to seen the variations.

First, the head. The Turkey Vulture seems to be embarrassed. Look at that red face!

The Black Vulture's face is, well --- black.
The face alone can fool you, however, since immature Turkey Vultures will also have a black head, so look at the wings.

Turkey Vultures have a silvery gray color to the trailing edge of their wings, all the way from the body to the wingtips, when view from below. Since this is the most common way we see them, this is a helpful field mark.Black Vultures, on the other hand, have white wingtips only.Next, look at the flight pattern. Black Vultures flap a lot more than Turkey Vultures do.
When a Black Vulture soars, it is only for a short distance, and it holds its wings flat.Turkey Vultures have to expend a lot of energy to get airborne, especially on cloudy days when there isn't enough sun to warm the rising thermals, but once aloft, they can soar forever, teetering back and forth in their classic dihedral. (A dihedral, for the non-birders who read this blog, is a wide, shallow "V" shape.)
Sometimes, it seems that none of your field marks help. You are too far away to see head color, and the lighting is too bad to be able to distinguish the underwing patterns. All you have is a silhouette. What's a birder to do?

There is one clue which is indisputable, one way to tell your two vultures apart that doesn't rely on good lighting, flight patterns, or a spotting scope. Check the bird's tail. Black Vultures have very short tails, just the length of their legs.
In comparison, a Turkey Vulture's tail is long and wedge-shaped.
Whether the bird is flying, soaring, or perched, tail length will always give him away.

Now that you are all vulture experts, try to ID the following two photos, which I deliberately chose for their poor quality and lack of obvious field marks. Do we have one species below, or two? And which is which?

mystery bird 1

mystery bird 2

To my Blog-fans

Sorry I have been so lazy lately. I promise to turn over a new leaf and get back to blogging ASAP.

November Dawn

This is the sky that greeted me Monday morning, Nov. 3, as I walked back to the house after feeding the horses.
And here it is, one minute later.
One minute after that, it was gone. Discovering Beauty is all about timing, isn't it?

click for more skies

I need a bug expert.

And, I do mean "bug," as in "true bug" rather than "generic insect." I've got it narrowed down that far, based on the piercing-sucking mouth parts, the half-leathery wings folded in an "X" on the back and the long antenna.


I found this largish, interesting critter on the roof of my car this evening, just as I was about to leave work. I put him in a sample jar, brought him home and stuck him in the 'fridge for a while to slow him down, then took him out and photographed him before releasing him in my back yard.

Near as I can come, using my handy-dandy Kenn Kaufman insect guide, is variety of Leaf-footed Bugs, genus Acanthocephala. I can't get any closer, either common name or species.

Anybody want to chime in here?

Late September, Crooked Run

I visited Crooked Run Nature Preserve several weeks ago, but was unable to share it with you due to lack of photo storage space. Now that I have worked out those problems, I'm back on line and ready to take you with me on a walk along the trails.

For such a small preserve, Crooked Run has a wide diversity of habitats. The prairie, the pond, the wetlands, the estuary, the river and the woods all beckon me, and I can never decide where to spend most of my time.

I usually end up skipping through, picking and choosing what to focus on today.

I started at the small reclaimed wetland area, hoping for a Green Heron. One stayed here until some time in January a couple of winters ago, so I always check it out in the fall.

Unfortunately, not even a Red-winged Blackbird or Mallard duck could be found, so I headed on along the neighboring meadow path. This is prime sparrow country, and though the field was full of chips and flutters, I couldn't get a good ID on anything in the tall, thick weeds. Trips in October will reveal Song, Swamp, and Field Sparrows here.
That large green mound in the background is a huge thicket of Pokeweed, and the berries were ripe. Lots of little birds flitted out of it as I passed. Could I put a name to any of them? No.
Next stop - the Ohio River. In winter, there can be any number of interesting ducks on the water, but today, only this lone tugboat and barge. Flying overhead, I saw a large unidentified flying object, and pulled up the binocs for a closer inspection. As the bird wheeled and soared towards me, I realized it was an Osprey! First raptor of the day, and a goodie, to boot. I was so excited to watch it flying south, going with the flow of the river, that I forgot I had a camera slung over my shoulder.

Not long after the Osprey was out of sight, another large bird came behind, that I first mistook for a crow. I soon realized it wasn't flying like a crow, with long, deep strokes that looked like it was rowing a boat, but with shallow, graceful wing beats. As it shot passed me, the sharp, bent-back wings and long tail proclaimed it a falcon. Peregrine! Another great bird! And still, no photos. I know, I know - I'm a pitiful excuse for a nature blogger.

You want pictures? How about pictures of flowers? They don't move as quickly as birds, so I can admire them and then photograph them.

Wingstem was just about finished by the last week of September, but I did find a few in bloom.

going...

going ...

gone to seed.

Want to know why it's called wingstem? Check out these "wings" on the stem of the plant.

Sometimes, the names actually DO make sense.

Asters. Love 'em and hate 'em. Actually, I love nearly everything about the family Compositae, to use the older nominclature, except trying to put a specific name to them. Ever since high school biology, I have struggled with identification of fall flowers. I know these are some kind of aster, maybe New England Aster, but I doubt I will ever be sure of the exact name.
Still, they are beautiful, and as an old gentleman once told me, passing me on the trail while I struggled to ID a wildflower, "We don't have to know their names to appreciate them."

aster close-up

wingstem close-up

close-up of a pretty white flower,

also unamedan unknown goldenrod

Isn't this fungus pretty enough to be considered a flower?

Leaving the wildflowers behind, we stroll along the wooded trails.
Chip notes of cardinals bounce above us, but we don't see too many birds. Never mind, a favorite stop is just ahead.

I like to visit this grove of pawpaws in the fall. When other trees are beginning to lose their leaves, the pawpaws are still cloaked in their summer greens.

These young saplings have grown up in this grove since I first started visiting Crooked Run, but this is the tree I really come to see.
She's the grandmother of them all, and the oldest pawpaw tree I have ever met, but here's her real claim to fame.She is riddled with sapsucker holes from the base of her trunk to as high as I can see. Generations of Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers have tapped her every winter for her life-giving fluids, and yet she survives and continues to produce fruit and more offspring every year.
Looking up, the pawpaw leaves make me feel like I am in a jungle forest, a feeling accentuated by the exotic looking fruit over my head.
It's the last of its kind, the only pawpaw I can see in the trees around me, so I leave it where it hangs, and move towards the estuary.

Don't give me too much grief about the quality of the next picture. We both know it stinks, but it is the best one I got that included a Belted Kingfisher (on the wire, upper left) and a Great Blue Heron (in the water, lower right) both fishing the estuary.
I always wish I had a big black permanent marker in my hand when I see this "educational" sign. Along with other, correctly labeled, bird drawings posted on one of the bird blinds along the estuary is this one, of a chickadee. I can't help shaking my head in dismay when I see it.
The Black-capped Chickadee is the northern species, almost never seen in southern Ohio, where the Carolina Chickadee is our year-round resident. I wonder how many people have read this sign and been mislead.

Leaving the epic "Fail!" sign, I start back, planning a stop at the small woodland pond before leaving the preserve.

Creeping up on the pond as I made my way back to the trail head, I was hoping for something really special to end my morning.
Something flushed from the edge opposite me, but without the characteristic squeaky call of the Wood Ducks I was expecting. Instead, there was a harsh squawk and I caught a glimpse of a crow-sized bird fluttering awkwardly into the trees on the oppposite side of the pond. When it settled down, I got my look.

There you are!

Green Heron!

I settled in and got comfortable. Knowing Green Herons to be much spookier birds than their larger Great Blue cousins, I knew that too much sound and motion would scare it away, and I really wanted some good pictures. So, I hunkered down and waited, with my camera on "burst" mode, to maximize my chances of getting just one good picture.

One word of caution. When skulking around in pursuit of a Green Heron, keep one eye on the edge of the pond. It may be slippery.

the place where I almost got wet!

After a while, the heron moved to my right, ending up in a clump of wild grape vines. More waiting and fruitless shooting finally got me my picture.

Thank you!
Thank you very much.

Lots of Pots, part 2

Technical issues with getting more photo storage space has kept this blog on hold for a while. Now that I have resolved that crisis, I hope to be back on the air with more regularity than lately.

Continuing with my latest pottery pieces, I give you first - 24 spoon rests.

What got me into Production Potter mode? My mother, of course.

"Can you make me some spoon rests to give as Christmas presents?" she asked. "Sure, Mom, no problem."I went into the studio one Saturday morning and threw 10 spoon rests in two hours. I was on fire. I called her - "Mom, I made you ten spoon rests."

"Thanks, honey. Can you make twenty?"Sigh. Sure, Mom, whatever you ask.

Now, when your goal is to make X number of items, every potter knows you need to make X+, to allow for breakage, glazing errors, or general failure of the thing to be what you envision it to be. So, back to the studio I went, spending another 2 hours throwing 10 more spoon rests. Later I added a few more, for good measure.

I called my mom. "Mom, I made you 10 more spoon rests. There will be at least 20 for you."

"Thanks, dear, but I'm not sure I need that many."Sigh. OK, Mom, whatever you say.

Anybody need a spoon rest?

On to other projects. Textured Kiwi, a Spectrum glaze, is quickly becoming one of my favorites, as if you couldn't tell by this series of pieces.
This plate is made of brown clay, and is 10 inches in diameter. It only has a very slight wobble to it. Getting a plate to be totally flat is quite a challenge.
This bowl is one I made at my pottery retreat back in June. We used a white earthenware clay, from a local supplier called Highwater Clays. It took me a while to decide what to do with it. Textured Kiwi to the rescue!(Sadly, there is a teeny flaw in the glaze where it didn't stick.)
This lidded vessel is also of Highwater Clay, from my trip to North Carolina. I stenciled the bluebird onto the bisque-fired clay with underglazes, then covered that with clear glaze. The rest of the vessel is kiwi again, with satin white in the interior.One of the reasons I love this glaze so much is that it looks equally good on brown clay, as in this piece below, as it does on the white clay of the bowl and lidded pot above.
Cat food bowls. Simple, quick, easy, fun - one can never have enough cat food bowls, right?
(3 Coyote shino glazes. left to right: Goldenrod, light green, light blue. Cat stencils in black underglaze)

This large, deep bowl is glazed in Textured Navy. I love the color, but the glaze gives me fits. If I get it the least bit too thick, it runs and drips terribly, causing it to adhere to the kiln shelf it is sitting on, and getting me in hot water with Peggy.
A small, simple bowl of brown clay, glazed in Chun Plum.
Finally, a piece in progress. This lidded vase was made in two pieces and has been bisque fired and glazed. It is now at the studio, awaiting its final fire. This is the point when all potters begin sacrificing to the kiln gods, praying for a successful outcome.
Can't wait to share the final results with you!