By Elizabeth Farnsworth
OK, be honest: What’s the stereotype you imagine when you hear the word “botanist”? Perhaps you picture a bespectacled academic pottering about the woods in search of her favorite moonwort. (What’s a moonwort, anyway?) Botany is often thought of as a quaint, Victorian pastime; but those of us who do it for a living think of ourselves more as Indiana Jones adventurers, coming up with new discoveries in the field all the time. This is 21st-century botany, so why not use the latest computer technology to help us out?
By David Spector
In March many people notice American robins on lawns. As the ground thaws and earthworms become available, robins—both those returning from further south and those that spent the winter nearby feeding on fruit—reappear on lawns. The robin’s red breast is well-known; indeed it is the red breast shared with the European robin that inspired English immigrants to give our bird the same name. What about the rest of the bird? What does the bill look like? The face? The tail? How can we identify an American robin when we can’t see the breast, but can glimpse just a small part of the bird? Close examination of American robins can bring greater appreciation of the whole bird and open a window into aspects of the bird’s natural history.
By Ken Gooch
Most people think of cities and urban areas when they think of Massachusetts. Even though we’re a densely populated state, the Commonwealth is also the eighth most forested state in the country. Sixty-two percent—3,060,000 acres—of our land is covered by forest. Most likely, people didn’t think much about the health of Massachusetts forests prior to the infestation and defoliation of trees by the gypsy moth in the early 1880s. The problem of invasive, non-native pests was not well understood at the time.
By Katie Koerten
With their bald red heads and carrion-eating ways, turkey vultures may at first glance lack the splendor of some of our other soaring birds. They may not carry the same symbolic importance of say, a bald eagle. They may not seem to have an exceptional skill, like the speedy peregrine falcon. But look a little closer and you will see that turkey vultures are just as impressive as more “charismatic“ birds.
By Kari Blood
If you’re a Pioneer Valley native, you may not realize what a unique region surrounds you. As a recent transplant from upstate New York, I have observed how nature, culture, education and agriculture come together here in a rich, productive tapestry that few other areas in the northeast can claim. Because of this tapestry, locally grown foods are plentiful and accessible today. But what will happen in the future?
By David Spector
On a bird trip I once led for the Hitchcock Center for the Environment I noticed a northern harrier (also known as marsh hawk) hunting over a field in Hadley. This lovely raptor, found over the fields and marshes of the northern hemisphere, rarely breeds in western Massachusetts but occurs here regularly as a migrant and in small numbers as a winter resident. I pointed out the bird and described the features that I used to distinguish this species from other hawks: proportionately long, narrow wings held above the horizontal; a proportionately long, tubular body; and a relatively flat, owl-like face.
By Joshua Rose
Even though winter is upon us, the Valley is still feeling the effects of the October 29 nor’easter that dumped more than a foot of snow across the area. Most of us lost electricity—some for days when tree branches snapped from the combined weight of leaves and snow and took power lines down with them. For many weeks, Amherst’s streets were lined with long piles of brush gathered by cleanup crews, and the local transfer stations stayed open more days than usual to allow for this sudden glut of “yard waste.”
By Elizabeth Farnsworth
As far as I can tell, there are three ways to survive a New England winter. One, you take up winter sports and learn to love the slippery ground and nose-biting cold. (This one’s not for me—I am too clumsy for skates or snowboards.) Two, you escape to warmer climes. (As a tropical biologist early in my career, I opted for this, and spent many winter months knee-deep in mangrove mud in Belize; not glamorous, perhaps, but warm!) Or three, sleep through it. Many animals and plants choose option three: it’s cheaper than airfare or new skis.
By David Spector
There are many ways to start a year. On January 1 of this year I awoke at 2 a.m. and headed out to find birds. My first bird of 2011 was a barred owl that I heard respond to a playback of its species’ call. At my next stop a coyote yipped but no owl revealed itself. Farther down the road I didn’t need to stop to listen—a barred owl hunting from a road-side tree was easily visible in my headlight beams and the first bird I actually saw this year. Still well before sunrise, the next bird for the year was an American robin resting in the middle of a little-travelled road; birds startled from their normal resting sites sometimes settle onto open ground rather than landing on a branch in the dark. The deep, resonant duet between a male and a female great horned owl provided my last pre-dawn species.
By Lawrence J. Winship
I really enjoy fall in the Pioneer Valley, for so many reasons—the changing and changeable weather, a shift from producing to storing away and, of course, the marvelous color show. I watch trees in all seasons, just as some folks watch birds, with the advantage that trees don’t move around nearly as much. Each tree is an individual, its shape and size influenced by more than just its species. Sure, looking closely one can assign each tree to a taxonomic category, but the ravages of time, weather and competition with near neighbors all play a role. A tree’s bark, limb arrangement, girth and wounds make each as unique as each of us. I watch to notice differences one day to the next, and in fall, wow! Do these changes speed up!
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Hitchcock Center for the Environment
at Hampshire College
845 West Street | Amherst MA 01002 | 413.256.6006 | 413.253.2809 fax