Digging RI

Hiking with my dog is one of my favorite outdoor activities. Watching her have fun makes the experience all the more rewarding for me. I got lucky with this dog, because she has turned out to be an excellent hiker.

What does that mean? She stays on the trail, usually between my friend, who likes to lead, and me. (I like to take a more leisurely pace.) If she gets too far ahead of me, she’ll stop and wait for me to catch up. If we encounter people or dogs, she will ignore them. Perhaps most importantly, when I call her, she comes to me, a behavior I reinforce with occasional food rewards.

That said, it should be remembered that not everyone likes dogs, even well-behaved dogs. Unfortunately, many times the dogs we encounter in the woods are large, exuberant animals who jump up on people, something that is uncool in the extreme. Then what happens is people begin complaining about ALL dogs on hiking trails.

Here’s an excerpt from Auntie Beak’s blog about a recent hike on Barn Island, CT, that sounds as if it was spoiled by an abundance of annoying dogs.

“…even though I knew better, I still hiked this popular local dog spot on a Saturday afternoon. Unsurprisingly I was rushed by many unleashed dogs, and mobbed by two giant unleashed great danes. I hate [most] dog people… The regulations for this wildlife management area clearly state that (emphasis mine):

Dogs must be leashed at all times, except when being used by licensed hunters while hunting small game and waterfowl.

I passed at least 10 other hikers, or groups of hikers, with dogs. One had his dog on a leash. Two of the unleashed dogs were very well trained and minded their own business. The rest not so much. I got rushed at, barked at, and mobbed. And I am most decidedly NOT a dog-lover. So Fair warning if you decide to hike there.”

Is it really still necessary to re-state the obvious? I guess it is, with unleashed Great Danes “mobbing” frightened hikers. It is always up to dog owners to ensure that their pets do not annoy or scare other people. This is especially true in the woods, where trails are narrow and you have to pass fellow  hikers in close proximity. In those situations I almost always leash my dog, and that leash is hanging on my belt at the ready, just in case.

The bottom line with hiking and dogs is this: no one, even a confirmed dog-hater, will object to a quiet, well-trained dog on a trail. Everyone, including confirmed dog-lovers, will be annoyed by untrained, in-your-face dogs on the trail. The difference, as always, is the dog-owner.

First, the good. This is Beaver River Road in Richmond, Rhode Island, another one of the state’s  lesser-known neighborhoods. These gnarled, old maples, all of them tapped for maple syrup season, reminded me of Europe somehow. Nice when the trees are allowed to remain on the side of the road. They add so much to the view.

The bad: This week, a local landscaper who should know better hung advertising tags on everyone’s mailbox. Of course, within a day, most of them were littering the ground.

I wonder how many potential customers he turned off with this dumb idea.  I know I won’t be hiring him.

This Tufted Titmouse (one of my favorites) was caught in a mist net and is awaiting banding. The exercise was the latest class in the naturalist course I am taking, offered by the Rhode Island Natural History Survey.

This is one of the two mist nets (they’re called mist nets because the mesh is extremely fine) set up by Block Island naturalist and instructor Kim Gaffett, who has been bending birds for more than 30 years. Several birds were caught in the nets, and it takes great skill and patience to safely remove them from the fine mesh.

Here are the bands, in different sizes. Next to them is the scale that Gaffett used to weigh each bird. Several measurements are also taken, including how much body fat the bird has. All bird-banders must be federally licensed. The data they collect is added to what must be an incredibly massive database at the Bird Banding Laboratory in Patuxet, MD.

Here’s a House Sparrow being weighed in the mesh bag. I watched Gaffett band a couple of Dark-Eyed Juncoes, two White-Breasted Nuthatches, a Song Sparrow, a Field Sparrow, and a female Northern Cardinal. She still had several birds to band when I left.

Bird banding provides researchers with information on the the individual birds (general condition, weight, and sometimes, age) and when banded birds are found their band numbers are reported to the Maryland lab. Where they were found can tell scientists how far they travelled.

The netting and banding process is stressful for the birds, and the practice is somewhat controversial, although organizations like Audubon support it. So much depends on the skill of the person doing the banding.

The Francis C. Carter Memorial Preserve, owned and managed by The Nature Conservancy, is one of the largest preserves in the state. I have hiked this 1,100-acre property endless times, from both trail heads, and it feels different every time.

There are several varied natural communities here, including rocky moraine, vernal pools, pitch pine barrens and grassland.

Today, we took a small wooded trail that opens onto a power line.

We walked along the power line until we came to a sign saying the land beyond was private.  From 1964 to 1980, United Nuclear operated a nuclear facility on 12 acres of this property. The plant was the site of a fatal accident in 1964, in which an employee, Robert Peabody, was exposed to a lethal dose of radiation. The clean-up of the site was not completed until 2011, and the land was added to the preserve.

In several areas near the grassland, the forest has been cut to create scrubland habitat, which is valuable to many bird species as well as the New England Cottontail rabbit.

The grassland is pretty, and, judging by the hoof prints, popular with horseback riders. You can walk around the perimeter on a mowed grassy trail.

I paused to take in some of the trees, which looked so pretty against the dark blue sky.

These trembling aspens were also interesting with their straight, smooth vertical trunks.

On the way back, Fidgit found a pool and waded in. Hedonist.

I took this photo over the Christmas holidays in Quebec. The geometry (yes it’s a plantation but it’s still cool) fascinated me so I thought I’d post it.

Forestry was the topic at this week’s naturalist class, offered by the Rhode Island Natural History Survey. The instructor was Tom Dupree, former Chief of Forestry at the Rhode Island Department of Environmental Management.

I have taken the Rhode Island Tree Steward course, so I am somewhat familiar with tree biology, but Dupree focused largely on the history of New England forests and evolving forestry practices, which I didn’t know much about.

Dupree took us through pre-settlement forests, to subsistence farm clearing, to the height of deforestation in the early 1800s, when 75 percent of the forests in New England had been cut down. Later, farms were abandoned as people moved west to seek their fortunes. (We often see the remnants of those abandoned farms – cellar holes and stone walls –  when we are hiking.) I was surprised to learn that today, in our tiny state, 56 percent of the land is forested.

We went outside and Dupree showed us some of the tools that are used to measure forest densities and the sizes and ages of individual trees.

Drilling into an arborvitae, he demonstrated how foresters obtain core samples of trees, in which the rings are visible and can be quite easily counted.

And there’s the sample, with the rings. It smelled all cedar-y.

I came away from this class with a better grasp of the history of the area, and  a rudimentary knowledge of forestry and how practices have evolved. I still hate clear-cutting though. I don’t think that will never change.

It’s been a wild week – in a good way. Take these two barred owls, for instance. They are living at the Born to Be Wild Nature Center in Bradford RI. This is the only licensed raptor rehabilitation facility in the state, and they get injured birds like these from all over. In addition to working full time, John and Vivian Maxson care for these birds of prey all by themselves, with no government funding. Now they’ve lost their supplier of frozen mice to feed the birds, so they’re having a fundraiser on March 4. Go to their Facebook page if you can buy a ticket or help out in any way.

Here’s a photo of a beautiful male kestrel they are rehabbing.

I have enrolled in a naturalist course, which is being offered by the Rhode Island Natural History Survey. This week, the class was about bees and pollination.

Dr. Howard Ginsberg,  the instructor, ended the class by giving us an opportunity to examine different species of bees under a microscope. There are about 200 species in RI, and it looked like most of them were represented in the specimens. Of course, we did hear about the ongoing efforts to understand Colony Collapse Disorder. Frightening and depressing.

I did not know that species other than honey bees are used to pollinate crops. Bumble bees are also used.

Looking at anything under a microscope is cool. I remember my first microscope, ordered from the back of a cereal box. The first time I examined a drop of pond water, my mind was blown. It was – and still is – a fascinating universe, full of strange-looking animals living out their lives in a tiny world that most people are unaware of. The bees looked awesome too.

On my way to the class, I had to stop suddenly to avoid a small herd of deer. I followed them into an ugly new housing development to take a picture. This used to be a field, and they’re probably wondering where it went. I know I am.

Lobsters are red

Violets are blue

Rhode Island seafood

How I love you!

A perfectly-steamed, hard-shelled, sweet, succulent, cold water lobster. Who needs roses?

Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!

I took this after last Friday’s storm storm. I finally started feeling like myself again nearly two weeks after I caught a cold, and I was beginning to think I was never going to get over it. But I did, just as I always do. And there is no significance or symbolism to the dead fish in my new header. I saw it lying on the sand and I snapped a photo. I like the contrasting textures.

I received this media kit this week from Renee’s Garden. It included a sample packet of the featured annual: “Climbing Phoenix” heirloom nasturtiums. I don’t think I have ever seen these before, and they look interesting. I will plant them in a large container where I grew Thunbergia so successfully last year.

After several summers of bumper crops, last year was not a good one in my vegetable garden. The cottontail rabbits are completely out of control, and they pounced on my snap peas, eating the shoots down to the ground three times before the poor plants finally gave up and died.

Then these voracious critters took up residence. The blonde one was the first of several, and I think at least two of them decided to spend the winter here, because there are a couple of large burrows in the flower beds.

Between the rabbits and the wood chucks, the vegetable garden was under siege all summer, and I didn’t harvest much.

The perennial border looked pretty darned nice, though. Maybe I should just focus on flowers this year. It’s hard to get psyched for planting vegetables when there’s a good chance you’ll never get to eat them.

It’s been a tough week, and I don’t have anything interesting to say, so I will post a few of the photos I took of the snow that fell last week and is now a distant memory. The image above was taken at the Charlestown RI breachway. I love seeing how wind sculpts snow.

The woods were lovely too.

I am very fond of winterberry, which looks even redder against the white ground.

I wonder what insect or larvae made these tunnels. A beetle, maybe.

I will close with this shot I took with my phone of a very handsome fox that seems to be living in our neighborhood. Best bunny control ever. Notice complete lack of snow. Sigh.

This was the view from our kitchen window yesterday. Those leaves on the right belong to a vanda (orchid) that was probably thanking its lucky starts that it lives in a cozy, heated house. Except for brief forays outside for the dog, we were kept indoors by the first snowstorm of the winter.

I read in the New York Times that storms like Saturday’s can be beneficial because they force you to stay home and relax. We spent a very pleasant day reading and watching television. I also colored in my adult coloring book. And we didn’t even get on each others’ nerves. Amazing.

We awoke to a bluebird day. There were a few snowdrifts to shovel, but much of it had been blown off our driveway and lawn by the strong northeast wind.

Our dog was thrilled. A dog playing in fresh snow is a joyful thing. I can watch it all day.

She does get a little crazy. Corgi people call this “frapping.” It stands for Frequent Random Acts of Play.

I hope those of you in the path of the storm got though it without losing power. That was my biggest fear. I’ll sleep much better tonight without that to worry about.