Posts Tagged 'Green-Wood'

Green-Wood

PrunusCherries are starting to bloom.Trachemys scripta elegansAlthough still chilly, the morning sun was strong enough to begin heating these hard cases up.CrocusThe bulbs and corms, of course, are bursting with stored-up goodness. Junco hyemalisDark-eyed Junco, a winter bird, still hanging around.

Two weeks ago, when I was last in Green-Wood, the cemetery was all about the Common Raven, vocalizing basso profundo. I neither saw nor heard it today. Bereft of a mate, has it flown the borough? Mockingbirds, Jays, and Robins were making all the noise this morning. I noted two dozen species, with the highlight being my first Golden-crowned Kinglet of the year, and three Tree Sparrows. Pieris japonicaJapanese Andromeda.

We are here only a moment

rings1Green-Wood Cemetery, like the city at large, lost a mess of trees during Sandy. One of them was this giant, which was also the home of a Red-tailed hawk nest for several years. Judging from Facebook, these pins were probably put in by the Cemetery’s tree specialist, Adam Rychlicki, who has been doing this sort of thing lately. It looks like each pin marks 10 years of growth here, except for what looks like the five years below: rings2I was reminded of Madeleine in Vertigo. She’s in Muir Woods with Scottie, and points to a cross-section of a centuries-old redwood, saying “here I was born… and there I died… it was only a moment for you, you took no notice.” Chris Marker quotes the scene silently and still-ly in La Jetée, and, years later, so does Terry Gilliam in 12 Monkeys, somewhat more ponderously but still affectively.

The passing of time is haunting however you look at it.

Beechwood

beechLooks like something you’d find along the banks of the Withywindle, doesn’t it?

Lace

lacelace2

Springing/Budding

Liquidambar styracifluaSweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua) bud emerging. Today marks the vernal or spring equinox, when the hours of day and night are exactly 12 hours each — except that they are not. But you can take that up with your local astronomer if you’d like. Otherwise, enjoy the eruption of life here in the northern hemisphere in the coming weeks.

The Sweetgum was in Green-Wood on Sunday. The rest of these were yesterday in Brooklyn Bridge Park.bud1

bud2

bud3

bud4

bud5

bud6

Beautiful

Simply so.

Galls in Winter

White oakThe leaves of this White Oak in Green-Wood have refused to fall. They held up to Sandy, the Nor’easter a week later, and all the rest of the winter so far. Actually, some oaks are tenacious leaf-holders, only shedding them just before, or just as, new leaf growth begins to bud.hedgehog gallsSo I got to take another look at the hedgehog galls I noticed back in August. They’ve lost their lurid coloring. hedgehog gallThe exit holes: the female wasps within (there are only females this generation) should have emerged during autumn to deposit over-wintering eggs on the tree’s buds (I looked but wasn’t sure what I was looking for); the generation from these eggs on the buds, which will hatch out in the spring, will be the reproductive one, producing both males and females.hedgehog gallRemember that these galls are created by the tree itself, as a kind of containment system around the irritation of the gall wasp’s eggs and then larvae. The miniscule wasp is forcing the tree to house and protect its tender larvae, chemically commanding the tree to work for it (most galls are harmless to the host plant). The image above shows where the gall was attached, extended, connected to the leaf. And inside?hedgehog gallSliced roughly in half, the tunnel is clear but the chamber within is filled with frass- or sawdust-like material, presumably left over from the adult insect cut its way out.

Oaks being gall-magnets, the same tree had examples of another type of gall. These were on the twigs, not the leaves. Now, I don’t know which type of insect produces this gall, I’m guessing another wasp, but then I’m no Alfred Kinsey.gallSome of these also had had exit holes:unknown gallSome didn’t. I sliced one of the latter in half:gallA tiny egg-shaped structure was inside the cavity within. You can see where the plant ends and the animal begins. And inside of this eggy cocoon, the larva:larva

For more on galls, see all other posts on the subject.

Cold-schmold!

Green-WoodThe Monk Parakeets, also known as Quaker Parrots (Myiopsitta monachus) in Green-Wood Cemetery were celebrating the return of (barely) above freezing temperatures yesterday with their usual racket. Myiopsitta monachusOnce, long ago in Green-Wood, with my bins in hand identifying me as a weirdo, a couple came up and asked if I was there to look at the Quakers. It was my assumption they were all buried in the Quaker Cemetery in Prospect Park. Thus I learned the alternative name of the Monks. Meanwhile, “parrot” and “parakeet” are often used interchangeably for the Psittaciformes; the smaller of these colorful, (usually) tropical birds generally get called parakeets, since this basically means small parrot. Since we no longer have the Carolina Parakeet to marvel at, up here at the edges of its once mighty range, these guys will do in a pinch.

Update 1/30/13: Twenty-five or so of these Monks make one hell of a racket when a Cooper’s hawk coasts on by.

Brooklyn Raven

Winter, especially at the tail-end of a bona fide cold snap like we’ve had most of the week, generally presents few surprises for the nature watcher. But this morning, as I wandered about Green-Wood Cemetery, I watched a Common raven (Corvus corax) and a Red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) contest the airspace overhead.

The Red-tailed was the aggressor here, diving at the raven. Usually, one sees crows diving at Red-tails and other hawks, the hawks just blowing it off and drifting away, like we might with flies buzzing about us.

But the hawk’s dives here were less common than the aerial ballet — kind of like a courtship flight, actually — as they circled about each other and moved towards the south (ultimately beyond the boundary of the cemetery). If the Red-tailed was one of our locals, it may never have seen a black bird bigger than it before.

This was my first sighting of a raven here in Brooklyn. Previously, I’ve seen, and heard, them upstate, in California, Iceland, and Scotland, and am never less than thrilled when I do so. The birds are traditionally a species of mountainous regions, although a pair has nested in Queens in the last few years (there was a report yesterday of a sighting in our neighboring borough). They are moving closer to civilization.

Updated 1/30/13: And this was not a fluke. Raven spotted overhead in Prospect Park yesterday, as well as in Green-Wood again by others. Would be amazing if a pair nested here, which I believe would be unprecedented. The Red-tailed hawks, however, may have something to say about this possibility; two were keeping an eye on the Green-Wood raven.

1/30/13 update continued: Saw the bird in Prospect Park around 10 a.m., after being alerted by loud cry. It was in a tree, practically overhead. A few minutes earlier, saw what I thought was a Raven flying fast to the west. Another birder reported a Raven in Green-Wood four minutes after I reported the one in the tree. I think we’ve got a pair.
***

Like this post? Why not subscribe to this free, and ad-free, blog for near daily nature-in-the-city goodness?

Glazed oysters

PleurotusWater spilling off a tree stump had coated and frozen around these mushrooms, giving them a glaze. I believe they may be Oyster Mushrooms (Pleurotus ostreatus), or another Pleurotus species. The gills make a pleasing pattern: Pleurotus


Share

Bookmark and Share

Join 147 other followers

Twitter

Nature Blog Network

Archives


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 147 other followers