Appreciating the Ordinary: Deer and Geese in Piscataway Park

This pair of Canada geese and their goslings were spotted in the pond that leads up to the Pawpaw Trail.

The bright rump of a white-tailed deer, the snow white chinstrap of a Canada goose: both are common sites in Piscataway Park, present here year-round. Even when the animals themselves are elusive, the tracks of a deer’s graceful step or a goose’s awkward-on-land waddle can be found in our muddy fields. But as deer over-graze forests and landscaped lawns, as geese damage agricultural crops and overload waterways with their droppings, some have come to consider the creatures a nuisance, and management methods have become hot topics for neighborhoods and natural resource groups alike.

But the white-tailed deer and Canada goose have played significant parts in Maryland’s history. Evidence of deer hunting, for instance, abounds: Indians hunted deer for food, clothing, and tools, turning hide, sinew, and bone into aprons, thread, and needles. European colonists hunted deer for meat and for buckskin, supplying themselves with clothing and Great Britain’s leather industry with imported hides. And African-American slaves in the Chesapeake hunted often, supplementing rations with wild game, raised fowl, and cultivated vegetables.

While habitat loss and over-hunting once contributed to sharp declines in deer and in geese, populations of deer and resident Canada geese—distinct from those migratory flocks that nest in northern Canada—have in recent decades rebounded, becoming perhaps too abundant. In this region, humans have reshaped the landscape, expanding suburbia’s lawns and gardens, golf course ponds, and bans on hunting and, in so doing, creating new homes for deer and geese alike, filled with food, shelter, and an unfortunate dose of human/creature conflict. Our own Conservation Pond is filled with a number of resident geese, and little groups of downy goslings have this month been spotted all over the park, from the livestock pastures to the pond that leads up to the Pawpaw Trail.

Despite their commonness, these animals are no less gratifying to see in the park, foraging for food in forests and fields or raising their next generation of young. On your next visit, take a moment to appreciate the ordinary, whether it is the white-tailed deer, the Canada goose, or something else whose regular appearance on your outdoor walks does nothing to diminish its worth.

Trail Treks is a monthly column that explores the walking trails in Piscataway Park. This year, we will highlight the Pawpaw Trail, which is located at the western end of our grounds and leads through a mature forest. Look for more reflections from the Pawpaw Trail as 2012 progresses.

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Trail Treks: Birds and Blooms in Piscataway Park

The jack-in-the-pulpit, left, is just one of the spring ephemera that blooms in Piscataway Park. Right, a redbud and pawpaw tree are in bloom.

After a short winter, April has brought with it an early welcome to wild signs of spring. The once dull Pawpaw Trail is now alive with soft greens and pinks, as new growth shoots forth from the forest floor and tall trees begin to leaf out.

Spring ephemera are the first signs that warmer weather is here, although these signs do not last for long. A favorite ephemeron in Piscataway Park is the native jack-in-the-pulpit, a low-growing plant that bears green hooded flowers. Found in the leaf litter at the crest of the Pawpaw Trail, a look upwards reveals the thick pink blossoms of the redbud tree and the burgundy flowers of the pawpaw, which will in summer bear oblong edible fruit. A favorite food of squirrels and raccoons, the pawpaw played an important role in naming “Accokeek,” which is often translated to mean place of the wild fruit. Both redbud and pawpaw trees are native to North America, along with the eastern bluebirds that have taken to flitting through the Native Tree Arboretum, with their bright blue wings and ruddy red breasts.

A female eastern bluebird guards her nest. (Photo taken by member and volunteer, Bonnie Simpers.)

The northern edge of the arboretum follows a portion of the Ken Otis Bluebird Trail, a line of 20 wooden boxes that provide the eastern bluebird with places to nest. Over the past century, the eastern bluebird has had to contend with habitat loss and the introduction of competing species like the house sparrow and European starling. By providing bluebirds with habitat and monitoring their nest boxes for predators and other problems, the Foundation has joined the efforts of the Maryland Bluebird Society—our local North American Bluebird Society affiliate—to bring the bluebird back.

What can be found on the Pawpaw Trail today? What was there yesterday, and what will be there tomorrow? Take a closer look—at the small leaf of a newly emerged plant, the brown bark of an elderly tree, the feathers of a passing bird—and let each tree, plant, and wild creature remind you to conserve this life and the land that is their home.

Trail Treks is a monthly column that explores the walking trails in Piscataway Park. This year, we will highlight the Pawpaw Trail, which is located at the western end of our grounds and leads through a mature forest. Look for more reflections from the Pawpaw Trail as 2012 progresses.

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Backyard Birds

bluebird at piscataway parkBirds can bring feathered fun—and free insect control—to a backyard garden. Join our friends and neighbors with Alice Ferguson Foundation, Naturalist Chris Ordiway as he introduces you to the backyard birds of Maryland. From red-breasted robins to cheerful bluebirds, participants will learn to identify several common birds of Maryland and discuss how to attract them with shelter, water, and food. Basic birding skills will also be taught. Weather permitting, participants will take a guided trail walk. Participants will receive a copy of Bill Fenimore’s Backyard Birds of Maryland and other take-home materials.

Pre-registration is required by Thursday, August 30, 2012.

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The Last Osprey: An Observation from the President

by Wilton Corkern

On the way to work this morning I saw a single Osprey perched atop a dead tree trunk in the Accokeek Creek wetland. It occurred to me that this may be the last Osprey I’ll see in Piscataway Park this year. They begin heading south around Labor Day and have usually cleared out by the first day of fall.

The realization prompted me to use my walk to enjoy the late summer wildflowers in the “back 40” between Tobacco Road and the Potomac River. The rewards were greater than I expected. Tickseed Sunflowers had exploded into bloom after the recent rains. Taller Yellow Ironweed flourished near the path to the historic boundary stone marking the line between Charles and Prince George’s Counties. On the edges between meadow and forest, native Indian Grass glistened in the morning sun. A spotted fawn watched cautiously as I walked by. And all along the road, Yarrow bent under the weight of its own white blossoms. Wasps, bees, butterflies, and other pollinators binged on the flowers, racing against time.

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A Bad Day to Be a Tadpole

by Wilton Corkern, President

On any given day this time of year a traveler along Bryan Point Road will almost surely see a Great Blue Heron stalking the aquatic creatures in the Accokeek Creek swamp. Everything about this bird is big: its head and body are four feet long; erect, it stands five feet tall; its wingspan is six feet. Even its bill is over five inches long. Yet it is a graceful flier, able to lift its five pound frame straight into the air with a single flap of its massive wings.

These ubiquitous birds are highly adaptable, and despite huge losses of habitat over the past half-century, they have found a way to survive and flourish. In fact, their ancestors were around some 14 million years ago, according to fossil records. For now, their populations seem to be growing all across North America, and are most dense in the east, from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico.

They nest in trees above swampy areas, usually in large colonies. A few years ago friend and former Trustee Byron Williams arranged for me to visit a nesting colony in a relatively remote area of Charles County. We parked alongside a road followed a narrow trail through dense woods for about a half-mile. “The first thing you notice,” Byron warned, “is the smell.” And then it hit us: the odor from massive amounts of fish-eating bird droppings wafted through the trees. As we approached the edge of the swamp we saw birds flying to and forth overhead. Then, the rookery: About a dozen acres of trees, festooned with hundreds of stick-built nests. Birds came and went, carrying food to noisy nestlings.

The Great Blue Heron is a formidable predator. It eats mostly fish, but may also take amphibians, reptiles, invertebrates, small mammals, and even other birds – all swallowed whole. During the past week I have watched our regular visitor devour several fish, a bullfrog tadpole, and a crayfish. According to the Cornell University ornithology lab, an adult Great Blue Heron can swallow a fish up to a foot long. I have video of this one gobbling down an 8” catfish. There are reports of Great Blues actually choking to death on fish too big to swallow. They feed in swamps, along the edges of water bodies, and even in open fields. A few days ago Mary Bruce and I watched a Great Blue perched in an oak tree in our residential neighborhood watching a neighbor’s coy pond for opportunity.

No less an observer than John James Audubon himself described the heron’s habits:

How calm, how silent, how grand is the scene! The tread of the tall bird himself no one hears, so carefully does he place his foot on the moist ground, cautiously suspending it for awhile at each step of his progress. Now his golden eye glances over the surrounding objects, in surveying which he takes advantage of the full stretch of his graceful neck.Satisfied that no danger is near, he lays his head on his shoulders, allows the feathers of his breast to droop, and patiently awaits the approach of his finned prey. You might imagine what you see to be the statue of a bird, so motionless is it. But now, he moves; he has taken a silent step, and with great care be advances; slowly does he raise his head from his shoulders, and now, what a sudden start! his formidable bill has transfixed a perch, which he beats to death on the ground. See with what difficulty he gulps it down his capacious throat! and now his broad wings open, and away he slowly flies to another station, or perhaps to avoid his unwelcome observers.

[Quoted from the online version of John James Audubon's Birds of America, available at www.Audubon.org. It is from an 1840 "First Octavo Edition" of Audubon's complete seven volume text and presents Audubon's images and original text descriptions as written.]

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An Observation from the Bayou

by Wilton C. Corkern, President

I always enjoy visiting my family in Louisiana. There are also a few bonuses that come with the trip: a shoe shine in Louis Armstrong International Airport, the drive across the Bonnet Carre Spillway and the Atchafalaya Basin, oyster po-boys from Chris’s diner and crawfish at Prejean’s in Lafayette, and visiting some great wildlife habitat. One regular spot we visit is Lake Martin, in the edge of St. Martin Parish. It’s a great place to see birds, alligators, snakes, turtles, and other wildlife because one can see big stretches of Bald Cypress swamp without leaving the car (always a plus for my 94 year-old Mom).

On the most recent trip we saw hundreds of Great Egrets, Snowy Egrets, Louisiana Herons, Great Blue Herons, and Roseate Spoonbills on their nests and in the skies. Large (8” – 12” long) Red Eared Slider Turtles sunned on virtually every snag and log sticking up out of the shallow water. We saw the last of this year’s native Louisiana blue iris blooms. Then, just as we were about to leave the preserve, there was an alligator. We all spotted it about the same time. Anne could see its head; Mom could see its tail. All I could see was something big thrashing around in the green water. Anne said it was eating something. She saw it lunge and bite something, but then we couldn’t see what it was. I stopped the car and got out for a closer look. I stood on the side of the road with a clear view of the five footer’s head and mouth in the tall grass at the water’s edge. My reward was to see a fat Cottonmouth, about three inches in diameter, crosswise in the ‘gator’s mouth. It was chomping and jerking its head from side to side, working its way toward the snake’s head. Once the snake’s head was in its mouth, the alligator gulped it in and began swallowing it – chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp – until the blunt tail disappeared inside. I watched for another half-minute or so as the alligator slowly backed into the water and submerged. Then it was gone.

We headed back to Mom’s apartment in Lafayette where we made coffee and watched Ruby-throated Hummingbirds on the feeder in her garden just outside the living room window.

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Courtship: Spring Flings Among the Furred and Feathered

Last week’s revelation that a fresh egg had appeared in one of the nesting boxes along the Ken Otis Bluebird Trail was a surprise. March is early for Eastern Bluebirds to begin nesting here, but the blue egg is incontrovertible evidence that the season is upon us. In fact, creatures all over the park have begun to display their courtship and nesting behaviors.

My morning drive to work often includes detours to Farmington Landing or Marshall Hall, as well as the usual stop on Bryan Point Road to survey the “flooded meadow” where the road crosses Accokeek Creek. One day, Belted Kingfishers made their presence known in the Accokeek Creek wetland; the next day, a pair of Wood Ducks paddled around before climbing up onto a log while I watched. One morning, a Muskrat swam toward home carrying in its mouth a twig for nest-building; on another, a pair of Hooded Mergansers cruised the shallow water. On Friday, I watched through my office window as a male Osprey with a fish in its talons climbed into the air, hovered for a moment, stooped, and then climbed again, apparently hoping to impress his mate. Eagles played tag in the sky above the pastures while Canada Geese staked out their usual nesting spots all around the farm pond.

Wood Duck Pair in Accokeek Creek

A pair of Wood Ducks afloat in Accokeek Creek

Hooded Mergansers in Accokeek

Hooded Mergansers go for an early morning swim

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Sprouts

Thursday, May 19, 2011 – It’s never too early to get out and garden! Sprouts is a garden-themed educational program geared toward preschoolers. This one-hour, once-a-month program will spotlight fruit, vegetables, and other parts of a backyard garden, and will feature fun activities for parents and children to do together, from singing songs and reading stories to making crafts and playing games. We will spend time outside when weather permits. This month, we will learn about rain and water.

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Who’s Missing a Belted Kingfisher?

by Wilton C. Corkern, President

Kingfisher

The Accokeek Creek wetland is a great place to see (and hear) Belted Kingfishers. Perched on a bare branch above the water, a Kingfisher looks a bit like a bigger, stockier Blue Jay. Its back is solid blue-gray; its head large and double-crested; its neck ringed with a broad white collar. Its distinctive “metallic rattle” of a call often precedes a sighting. A solitary bird except during the nesting season, the Kingfisher is fiercely territorial and announces its presence to any intruder, including a human one.

Catherine Krikstan, the Accokeek Foundation’s Chesapeake Conservation Corps Volunteer, is quite an accomplished birder. However, she announced shortly after her arrival here late last fall, she was missing a Belted Kingfisher from her life list. Kingfishers are year-round residents here, and a lucky observer may see one at Accokeek Creek or at the Farm Pond during the winter months. However, we are much more likely to spy a Kingfisher during the spring, summer, and early fall. I advised Catherine to slow down each morning and evening as she crossed the Accokeek Creek, and to be observant and patient. (This is a habit I practice myself, much to the chagrin, I suspect, of other motorists who wonder why I’m driving 10 miles per hour along that stretch).

Yesterday, a breakthrough! Catherine logged her first confirmed Kingfisher sighting. Now, we’ll be able to compare notes on a regular basis: “I saw a pair flying and chasing one another ….” “I saw one catch a fish ….” “One flew across the road right in front of my car this morning, chattering up a storm ….”

Oh, spring!

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