Archive for the 'Backyard' Category

Friday Night Light

Cobble Hill sunset.

Neighbors

A paper nest made by Bald-faced hornets, Dolichovespula maculata. Found a block down the street from the Back 40. It’s quite empty this time of year. Next year’s already mated females are somewhere nearby, tucked into over-wintering nooks, hoping to become queens of new colonies/nests. They will not reuse this nest.

Here’s a wasp gathering some wood pulp in Central Park for her nest.

Two Habitats

1.) A Rufus Hummingbird has been hanging out by the entrance to the Rose Center for Earth and Space at the American Museum of Natural History. This species, Selasphorus rufus, is more generally found in the Northwest and West, so its continued presence in Manhattan since December has been cause for comment. The bird is clearly hardier than you might think for a .21 oz/3.4 g animal, (yes, that was POINT 21 ounces), although our winter has been an almost complete wimpfest so far. The museum — which has a world-class ornithology collection and world-famous ornithologists preserved in formaldehyde — has put up a hummingbird feeder for the zippy little bird. The usual East Coast hummingbird species is the Ruby-throated, which spends the winter far to the south and can generally be glimpsed in the city during migration periods.
2.) An assemblage of found wood, shells, and a tile made by the Federal Seaboard Terra Cotta Corp. of New Jersey. I thought the wood looked a little cobwebby the other day and picked it up to dust. A spider has colonized it.

Tiny snail

Responding to my last post, snail maven Aydin Örstan thought the third of the terrestrial snails harboring on the marine snail shell in my backyard was Vallonia costata. If so — and it looks like it to this mollusk amateur — that would make for five different species of snails found in my concrete slab of a Brooklyn backyard so far.

This snail is tiny, 2mm across, and posed here on FDR’s eye on a dime. My antique snail book, Shells from Cape Cod to Cape May with Special Reference to the New York City Area (Dover, 1971, reprinting a 1961 original) by Jacobson and Emerson, notes that this Eurasian species wasn’t reported in the NYC area until “recently” when some were found in the Bronx, in a colony subsequently destroyed by construction. Jacobson and Emerson inform me that the ridge-like axial ribs on this shell are also known as costae.The hollow at the center of the whorl is called an umbilicus.

Queen Mother Conch

Some time ago, I found a couple of queen conch shells, Strombus gigas, at Dead Horse Bay. Needless to say, this is not this tropical species typical habitat. But the landfill at Dead Horse Bay turns up the strangest things sometimes. Perhaps these were somebody’s souvenirs once. Anyway, a ruthless recycler, I put the shells in the Back 40 for ornamental purposes. The other day, I turned over the one that sits on the concrete. Two — perhaps three — species of snails were attached.Cepaea nemoralis.Discus rotundatus.Tiny: no more than two millimeters across. Wondering if these — there was at least one more — are young versions of the above Discus? UPDATE: wonders never cease; this is actually probably V. costata, as discussed in the next post.
Sculptural conch sounding the arrival of Neptune at the Bailey Fountain at Grand Army Plaza.

Back 40 Snail

A snail in the Back 40, hunkered down on the fence. Invasive Cepaea nemoralis, no stranger here. Showed up on Friday. Some mucous glue holds this onto the vertical surface, the animal withdrawn deep into the whorls of the shell.

Back 40 Update

A better view of the pin oak sapling. The Staten Island native meadow mix bed. This is my biggest pot; like most everything in my backyard, it was found on the street and recycled. While moving some soil, I found a number of grubs who had buried into the earth for the winter:They buried themselves after this disruption.
Most of the seeds in the mix, which were wild collected for Fresh Kills Park, are quite small. They are all perennials: Flat-top goldenrod, Smooth blue aster, Evening primrose, Switchgrass, Canada goldenrod, & Indian grass. The wooden skewers, which I call squirrel punji sticks, are my answer to the critters, who like my islands of dirt (see the pin oak above for some of their work) in the sea of concrete. Same with the lattice of bamboo, which I harvested locally.

Pin Oak

In June, I accidently uprooted a pin oak sapling in the Back 40. I was weeding wildly. Once I saw what I had done, I attempted to replant it. A couple of days later it was utterly overthrown, the work, I believe of a squirrel sapper. But then, in another pot, I noticed another. Both were surely planted by squirrels (what the Squirrel giveth, the Squirrel squirrelth away).

I left the remaining sapling alone for four months. Yesterday, in the rainslush, I suddenly noticed its leaves turning. One of its five leaves had already fallen. Time for a picture before it was too late:Although it seems hard to imagine, the bare twig-like “trunk” will try to winter through. Good luck, sapling.

Late

An unexpected bit of color in the Back 40. Last Nasturtium of the year?

Culex

“Nymph, in thy (whining) orisons be all my sins remembered.”

It was a tough night on the skeeter front. Approximately eight bites amongst the two of us, and so far three mosquitoes, including this early afternoon kill. Hard to tell here, but the eyes have a blue-green iridescence to them. Possibly the southern house mosquito, Culex quinquefasciatus (brought north by the warming climate?). Definitely not an Asian Tiger.

Next Page »


Share

Bookmark and Share

Join 38 other followers

Twitter

Nature Blog Network

Archives


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 38 other followers