Strawberry Pickin' and Eatin'

The Friday before Memorial Day Joan and I drove out to Doran's Farm Market to pick strawberries. This is an annual ritual for us, and for two or three days we have strawberry shortcake for much or all of our dinner.

It was supposed to (and did) get hot that day, so we arrived early. We brought our own buckets, which Doran's weighed, but they also supply cardboard baskets for those without.

The signs above the baskets explain the rules of picking, which are also explained out loud by the guy who meets the tractor down by the berries. Most people don't read the signs anyway.

The tractor, which had just delivered some pickers to the berries, returned for another load.

After the briefing everybody starting picking. Of course, you have to sample the berries as you work, and Doran's understands and encourages this.

The flags mark how far up the row the previous picker picked. It's important to carry the flag with you and plant it when you're done, and if you have small kids, to emphasize that it's not a toy. The color of the flag indicates the variety of strawberry; this allows the Doran's representative (in the yellow shirt above) to steer you to different species based on your preferences, such as jam berries versus eating strawberries, or fruity or extra sweet.

Joan found one mutant strawberry. This is the view from the top.

And from the bottom.

The previous couple of weeks had been fairly dry, making the strawberries less likely to rot (or be nibbled by slugs or worms) the instant they touched the mulch. We made quick progress down a pink-flag row and soon realized that if we were going to top it off with berries from a blue-flag row, it was time to move. Then we were done.

The tractor departs for the barn, where you pay, with a load of happy strawberry pickers.

Here are some of our strawberries rinsed, hulled, and sliced.

If you store some in the refrigerator for consumption the next day, do not rinse them (or do anything else). Wet berries are liable to mold or go bad quickly. Joan stores them as-is in a colander loosely covered, so they receive plenty of air circulation in the fridge. Our Friday berries were good for shortcake on Saturday and Sunday as well.

One technique Joan uses is to take out some of the strawberries, give them half the sugar of the overall recipe, and puree them, adding that back in to the bulk of the berries with the other half of the sugar. The proportion is approximate; for the two large servings she gave two cups the puree treatment. Here's a bowl with the puree added back in:

And the final product ... yes, that's what we mean by one serving.

We limit ourselves to one picking expedition each year, for the sake of our waistlines. 

The Wetlands at Slate Run Metro Park

In mid-May Joan and I explored the walking trails at Slate Run Metro Park, especially those around the wetlands at the western end of the park. Joan had visited earlier and was eager to show me the flora and fauna there.

The abundance of frogs was astonishing. Heads were popping out of the waters everywhere, often only a few feet apart.

They were mostly the common American Bullfrog.

Their concentration made me think that the larger birds, such as the great blue heron, should be very well fed this spring.

Joan was hoping to show me the water snakes she had seen on her previous visit, but was concerned that they wouldn't be visible again. She didn't need to be. First, we saw a water snake swimming through one of the ponds. It slowed down as it struggled through some algae, and I captured this photo.

Further along, water snakes were out sunning on the same log where she had seen them before. Two clusters of snakes, in fact; here's a picture of one group intertwined on the log.

The smaller ones are males and the larger one the female. (Click on the photo to enlarge.) Because there is more than one suitor still remaining, we assume the female hasn't made her choice yet.

We also saw a female red-winged blackbird, who was unwilling to fly to her nest until we drew further away. This was educational encounter for me; I would have guessed this bird to be some flavor of sparrow, not a red-winged blackbird. She doesn't need to dress brightly to attract the males, however, and her camouflage quotient is much higher than theirs.

There was a much larger bird circling constantly during the first portion of our hike:

Yes, that's Air Force One, the President's aircraft, although if the Vice President has borrowed the keys to the 747 the call sign for the aircraft would be Air Force Two. Joan later contacted the Columbus Dispatch, which knew of a fundraiser in northeastern Ohio that Joe Biden would be attending the next day, but had no idea why the plane would be circling Rickenbacker airport for hours, and practicing touch-and-go (sometimes the landing gear was down).

Joan suggested that it was an attempt to reduce the federal budget deficit by offering paid rides, or that Joe Biden had told the pilots "I'll only be a short while, just circle the block rather than parking."

We nearly stumbled over a turtle ... a midland painted turtle, the only painted turtle in Ohio. This was turning into a fruitful expedition.

The spiderwort was common in some locations.

One section of the wetlands trail system includes a boardwalk over a pond and nearby swampy area, giving the observer a closer look at the aquatic environment.
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This gave us some spectacular looks at sunning and swimming water snakes.

Any closer would have been too close.

Just beyond, there was a stand of blue flag iris, Iris virginica var. shrevei, a wet soil or swamp lover.

After finishing the boardwalk we walked up to an observation deck atop a small hill. Looking west is looking across terrain scraped by glaciers, so even a modest hill gives a good view. The tip of a telescope on the deck is at far right.

From the deck our path took us along a field edge, which was good for bird activity, and then into the woods as far as the Shady Grove Picnic Area. Almost an hour after leaving the deck, I spotted this woodland toad.

We saw and listened to an acadian flycatcher, what Joan and I know as the "pizza" bird, after its call, which sounds like"peet-sah."

Returning along the field edge, I managed a good shot of this male bluebird. The gods of photography were smiling on me: this was the best of only three attempts before he flew off.

Near the end of our walk -- 6 or 7 miles in total, Joan tells me -- we passed by a tall pole with purple martin nest boxes.

Then we arrived back at the car, about 4½ hours after we began. Life was in full bloom, and except for the parking areas and a couple of joggers close to the picnic area, we didn't meet any other examples of homo sapiens var. buckeye. Well, it was a Tuesday.

A Second Owl Family

A few afternoons ago, May 22nd, Joan entered the woods behind our house to track down young barred owl calls, expecting to discover one of the youngsters that we've been watching since May 3rd. Instead she discovered a much younger owl:

She called me out to see, and we realized that there were three young owls, two more clinging just above the first!

These were younger than the pair we had being seeing. Those owls were almost as big as their parents now, but these were still downy and large-eyed. I walked around the tree and zoomed in on the upper two for this photo.

If these were not the original chicks, as seems almost certain, then there is a second breeding pair of barred owls in our woods ... these chicks had not traveled far from their nest, nor would they for a few weeks. A second pair was not implausible; the Blacklick Woods Metro Park has three pairs this year. But it was certainly unexpected. Perhaps some of the chicks from 2009 or 2010 have set up housekeeping here in their birthplace? In any case, this would add up to nine owls (two sets of parents, and a total of five chicks) in our woods!

Joan and I were astonished, and thrilled. Our owl-watching season was suddenly extended. Then, not even half an hour later, I was called out to the deck. One the parents, being harassed by outraged robins, had decided to take a breather in the dogwood tree next to our deck.

When I mention outraged robins, I mean outraged. They are astonished and indignant that owls would dare be anywhere near their nests, and they must insist to the owls that their kind is not wanted, each and every day. Loudly. Repeatedly. That's how we know when to look for owls, by listening for upset robins (or, sometimes, crows). This robin is the one that dared get closest to this owl.

The barred owl was taking it easy in the dogwood. The foliage was dense enough that the robins couldn't execute a harassing high-speed flyby, and they dared not linger near the owl. Small birds can outmaneuver the owl, but if they become complacent, they become a tasty snack.

Often it was nap time. Our presence on the deck was of no concern, as long as we didn't make sudden moves or startling noises.

Sometimes he would look around.

Sometimes he would check for any action below him.

 He would let us approach within just a few feet.

Sometimes he would open a weary eye just to see if we were doing anything interesting.

 This was also a good time for grooming. Feet, for instance,

or feathers.

After a satisfying grooming session he looked twice as large. Airing the feathers out on a hot day must have felt oh-so-good.

Puffed or sleek, the feathers of the barred owl create a stunning combination of patterns within the limited, brown-and-white palette. The head is mottled, while the chest is streaked, and the wings and back form bands. As camouflage, it's perfect. We've seen a barred owl fly into a tree and then become invisible when his back melts into the bark.

May 22nd ... a red-letter day for owl watching.

Critters of Flora-Quest 2012

Flora-Quest, at Shawnee State Park in Ohio, is held during the first weekend in May. This year I accompanied Joan to this event for the second time. Although the theme is flora, a lot of birding goes on as well. For me, the unexpected creature encounters were the highlight of this weekend, and the flowers, although wonderful, were secondary. This trend began early without my realizing it when we saw a bald eagle perched on a tree on our drive down, on flat floodplain land close to the Ohio River.

The gathering point for this nature-lover's event is the lodge at Shawnee. Events begin with dinner and speakers Friday night.

I set the alarm for early on Saturday morning in case the weather, which had been overnight rain, allowed Bob Scott Placier to attempt a bird-banding. Dubious because of the wet conditions, we nevertheless went to the patio and found Bob ready to go. Ten or so of us followed Bob to his nets, where he found one ovenbird. At the patio our captive was measured, weighed, banded, and then photographed by his many admirers before release.

It was still damp when the day's expeditions were ready to depart, but the lighter sky promised imminent relief.

The trip Joan and I had chosen was to the Spring Glen Private Reserve, and led by Paul Knoop and Steve McKee. One creature adventure began right away, where the water-filled ruts of an old farm road had become a vernal pool: there were double strands of frog eggs, and then this fellow was discovered.

Shortly thereafter we left the road for the woods. I was not yet in a picture-taker's frame of mind, and skipped many floral photo opportunities, but when Paul captured an eastern fence lizard, the camera came out quickly.

This individual was a male, and we could see the iridescent blue patches on his throat.

We returned to the van for lunch, and then began an afternoon loop. Our keen-eyed guides pointed out a six-spotted tiger beetle briefly resting on a log.

Just ten minutes later we found someone truly special ... a yearling eastern box turtle!

The eastern box turtle population is suffering from collection for the pet trade, especially for export from the United States, and from habitat fragmentation. They are listed in the CITES Appendix II category, meaning that they aren't threatened yet, but will be if current trends continue.

Twenty minutes later we encountered another young box turtle; our guides estimated this one as three years old.

It was turning into a box turtle day. Next we found a full-size one. Notice that the ridges on his top plates have been smoothed away ... he's an older gent.

We didn't know how old until we picked him up to examine the ventral plate, which is one way to determine gender. (There's a depression in males.)

Wait a minute, what's that carving?

It looks like "FT 41." Someone carved his or her initials on this turtle in 1941, and he had to be large enough for carving into then, meaning that our friend is about 80 years old. This longevity is plausible; they are known to live to 100 years. 

Passing another pool we heard a big "plop." A frog had jumped into the pool and let the silt settle on his back, rendering him almost invisible. But our guide Paul spotted him and with great agility grabbed the frog, a northern green frog.

This specimen is a male -- the tympanum, or "ear drum", is larger than the eye, and it has a yellow throat.

About half an hour later, we came across yet another box turtle. The growth ridges on the edges of each plate of the shell are still prominent, so this one is much younger than the octogenarian. By the end we would see a total of five box turtles on this walk.

As the afternoon wore on we entered an area with weathered limestone boulders. The alkaline environment of the limestone provides a habitat for many ferns, columbine, and solomon's seal. Here Paul stands next to one such rock.

My sole floral photo for this first day of the Quest is this solomon's seal growing from that rock.

Sunday, a half-day, was much more floral. We boarded vans and our guides took us on a tour of Saturday's best finds. (Not all vans went to the same location at the same time, of course.) My first picture of the day was the lucky chance of seeing a predatory fly on the side of the trail enjoying a late breakfast.

I learned about twice-cut, or twice-pinnate, ferns on this walk, but didn't take any photos. On our second and third stops, I made up for it. First, we pulled over to admire fire-pinks.

They were all over the sunny side of this road.

Some folks will go to any length (or height) to get a good look or photo.

The next stop filled the remainder of the morning. One of our first finds was a "fairy wand" or "devil's bite," and there would be more of them.

Mountain laurel was blooming in profusion.

Everyone was oohing over the pink lady slippers to be found here.

In spots there were clusters of them.

There were even some yellows!

Then it was time for lunch back at the lodge, and the drive home. I had begun the weekend with the expectation that I wouldn't have enough interesting photos for a blog entry, but I was wrong!