Why I Got Rid Of My Lawn

      I posted this way back in 2013, but it's worth airing a second time.

Imagine the conversation The Creator might have had with St. Francis on the subject of lawns:

God: Hey St. Francis, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there in the Midwest? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect "no maintenance" garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colours by now. But all I see are these green rectangles.

St. Francis: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers "weeds" and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.

God: Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colourful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?

St. Francis: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. The begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

God: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.

St. Francis: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it... sometimes twice a week.

God: They cut it? Do they then bail it like hay?

St. Francis: Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.

God: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?

St. Francis: No Sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.

God: Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?

St. Francis: Yes, Sir.

God: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.

St. Francis: You are not going to believe this Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.

God: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.

St. Francis: You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.

God: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and to keep the soil moist and loose?

St. Francis: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. The haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.

God: And where do they get this mulch?

St. Francis: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

God: Enough. I don't want to think about this anymore. Sister Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?

Sister Catherine: "Dumb and Dumber", Lord. It's a really stupid movie about.....

God: Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.

The Friendly Confines of Laurel Creek Conservation Area

 12 November, 2024

"Natural history is our prayer and our celebration, our sacrament and our unkempt affection, our most single-minded examinations and our most wide-open wandering gaze."

Thomas Lowe Fleischner

     Laurel Creek is so close and always delightful and Pam joined us for a stroll on a fine fall morning. It was nothing shy of pure delight.

     We had barely gotten out of the car when charismatic Black-capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) let us know that they were ready for breakfast. Pam wasted no time in serving their first course.

     It's a valid question to ask whether the human dispensing the food or the bird taking advantage of it is happier. Perhaps it's a fair trade when all's said and done. 

     There were several rafts of ducks out on the water, but mostly quite far out, and bathed in bright sunlight - hardly conducive to good photographs.

     Here are some Ring-necked Ducks (Aythya collaris) with a couple of female Buffleheads (Bucephala albeola) joining forces with them. 

     More Buffleheads, male and female.

     A pair of Hooded Mergansers (Lophodytes cucullatus) were way off in the distance.

     Mixed flocks were the order of the day.

     There were many Canada Geese (Branta canadensis) as might be expected.

     We took great pleasure in seeing a Red Osier Dogwood (Cornus sericea) growing out of a decaying stump.

     Renewal and recycling is a constant feature of nature, and I am always sad to see homeowners furiously cleaning up every fallen leaf on their property, denying the soil of the rich nutrients nature provides. 

     When one brings to mind iconic Canadian images, birches (genus Betula) feature prominently, it seems to me.

     In among the hundreds (thousands?) of geese we spotted four swans. Facing the tandem disadvantages of distance and reflected light I was unable to be certain as to the species, but given the time of year I concluded they were probably Trumpeter Swans (Cynus buccinator). Confirmation would come later.

     We came upon huge piles of snail shells, leading us to wonder why they were concentrated in one spot. I know very little of Gastropoda so their identity and the reason for their abundance will have to remain a mystery I'm afraid.

     They resemble the Apple Snails (genus Pomacea) that I have frequently seen in the Caribbean, Central and South America, but whether snails of this type can survive here is unknown to me. 

     White- breasted Nuthatches (Sitta carolinensis) were vocal and followed us, but did not venture to our hands for seed, in stark contrast to Black-capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) who lined up like office workers at a fast food truck.

    At times six or eight chickadees would would vie with each other, and they all feasted royally on premium shelled sunflower seeds.

     Some even added a snack of goldenrod (genus Solidago) seeds to their diet.

     How delightful they are and what joy they bring to us.

     Several Blue Jays (Cyanocitta cristata) patrolled the neighbourhood; disdaining our hands but alert for seed knocked to the ground by chickadees.

     I believe this is a nest of Yellow Warbler (Setophaga petechia), long departed for warmer climes.

     We will look forward to seeing them again in Spring.

     As we made our way around the lake we were able to get into position to view the swans a little more closely, and assured ourselves that they were indeed trumpeters.

      The Blue Jays moved along with us, always sure to keep a potential source of food in view.

     When we left we tossed a little seed onto the ground, and barely had we gone a few steps when a couple of Blue Jays swooped down to take advantage of manna from humans.

     A Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) was quick to follow.

     Common Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale), that most despised and reviled plant, proved its hardiness and glowed beautifully in November sunlight. A dandelion is welcomed, loved and respected in my world.

     A Clouded Sulphur (Colias philodice) was doubtless still finding sustenance from the flower.

     Faithful to its name Autumn Meadowhawk (Sympetrum vicinum) was the only odenate we encountered.

     Larches (genus Larix) glowed golden in the distance.

     We found a picnic table in the sun and settled in for coffee and muffins. The chickadees wasted no time in letting us know that they too looked forward to a snack.

     They found my hat to be a convenient perch.

     I leave you with perhaps the most enjoyable species of all on this bright November morning, the enigmatic and unique, Pamela ecstatica.

     It was a pleasure to share our day with her.

Book Review - 40 Years of Evolution: Darwin's Finches on Daphne Major Island, New Edition - Princeton University Press

      It was back in 2005 (is that really 19 years ago?) that I acquired my own copy of Ecology and Evolution of Darwin's Finches and was, to use a vernacular expression, "blown away." 

     My book is the 1999 version with the foreword by Jonathan Weiner - so what to do but get a copy of The Beak of the Finch? If anything the "blowing away" was getting stronger!

     As a lifelong student of Charles Darwin and a staunch follower of David Lack, this unique study of evolution in real time was a revelation of epic proportions.

    I became a committed, dedicated admirer of Peter and Rosemary Grant, and eagerly read everything else they had written. My level of awe (I don't think that's hyperbole) was magnified. On one small island in The Galápagos these two scientists, man and wife, partners always, revolutionized our understanding of life on Earth. 

     Their commitment, their tenacity, their dedication to excellence, their results, their contribution to science are the stuff of legend.

     When Princeton published the biographies of Peter and Rosemary (delightful in the extreme) I thought I had it all, but the circle is closing perhaps with this latest addition to the canon. 

     It updates the original, enhances and primps, reflects advances in technology,  presents new facts, but the essential work remains the same. I am bound to say that this was a difficult book to review, since I was constantly referring to the original works, then dipping into Weiner's Pulitzer Prize-winning book, and going back and forth to both biographies - but what an enjoyable experience, time consuming though it was.

     It is daunting even to think of conducting a study for forty years, especially on a hunk of volcanic rock sticking out of the ocean, difficult to get to, hazardous to land on, and lacking in creature comforts of even the most basic kind. How many scientists have to make do with a cave as both their kitchen and their lab? How many scientists have the tenacity to carry on year after year? It seems to me that a man and wife team - a team of equals I hasten to add - makes it all the more remarkable.

      There is surely an element of unalloyed joy that this seminal research was carried out on Darwin's Finches, those very birds that set the stage for On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life, ( I relish the full title!) - not without a little help from Mr. Gould I might add. I think that to refer to Peter Grant, or Rosemary Grant, as the new Darwin merely recognizes their phenomenal accomplishments, and does not exceed the bounds of reason and good taste.

     Their work is monumental. I doubt whether anything will come close to matching it for a very long time.

     In retirement the Grants have received honours and tributes from all over the world, richly deserved, earned in the fires of excellence. I salute them and thank them for bringing so much pleasure and learning to my life.

     It has been a privilege to know them vicariously.

     Initially, I had a quote from Darwin in mind to end this review but I have discarded it. What better ending than Peter's own coda?

The cradle that is Daphne was once undersea

Umbilicaled to Santiago

She emerged from a deep subterranean sleep

The year, an exceptional El Niño

Daphne is a cradle that is now above sea

She nurtured the birth of a finch

Compounded of genes from two species or more

The beak much less than an inch

The cradle that is Daphne will sink once again

Or explode and then it will be gone

By then the finches will have flown elsewhere

Continuing to evolve, on and on

      

40 Years of Evolution: Darwin's Finches on Daphne Major Island, New Edition - Princeton University Press

Peter T. Grant and B. Rosemary Grant

Paperback - $39.95USD - ISBN: 9780691263229

464 pages - 6.125 x 9.25 inches (15.31 x 23.125 cm)

185 black-and-white illustrations - 21 tables

Publication date: 12 November 2024

Laurel Creek and The Kissing Bridge Trail

      The Grand River Conservation Authority (GRCA) administers various parks around our area, and we always enjoy visiting them. 

     This year, Waterloo Public Library has acquired annual passes which are made available for seven days on a first-come, first-served basis and we have taken advantage of them when we have been able to.

Laurel Creek Conservation Area, Waterloo, ON

     This park is mere minutes from our home, so even if we only have an hour or two to spare it's convenient for a visit.

     The varied habitat makes it very pleasant and a good spot to observe wildlife - and admire birches.

     Ticks should not be an issue in November, but we continue to have abnormally warm weather, so who knows what might lurk in the grass?

     Dark-eyed Juncos (Junco hyemalis) have settled in for the winter, and we saw many of them.

     It is such a jaunty little character with personality and charm. 

     Speaking of jaunty characters it doesn't get much better than a Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus). 

     Clouded Sulphur (Colias philodice) flies late into fall, but at our latitude it is surely getting to the extreme limits of its flight period.

     It must also be true of Autumn Meadowhawk (Sympetrum vicinum), although suffice it to say that our changing climate is affecting the distribution of many species.

          A lone Double-crested Cormorant (Nannopterum auritum) is obviously still able to make a living on the reservoir.

     No doubt it is competing with Bald Eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) for its fishy dinner.

     Far out on the water a couple of Ruddy Ducks (Oxyura jamaicensis) kept company with a juvenile Red-necked Grebe (Podiceps grisegena) - more competition for the fish.

     Mallards (Anas platyrynchos) came in closer to shore to feed on submerged vegetation in shallow water.

     The wind is dispersing the seeds of Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), good news for Monarchs (Danaus plexippus).

     Chickadees seemed to travel alongside us, and if a snack were offered wasted no time in securing a seat at the table.

     A Ruby-crowned Kinglet (Corthylio calendula) foraged in close proximity, but it was impossible to get a clear shot.

     Dragonboat races are probably over for the year and the craft will nestle under snow for the winter.

     We spotted the nest of a Baltimore Oriole (Icterus galbula) and hoped that a successful brood had been raised in it.

     Another successful visit to a place close to home.

     How lucky we are.

The Kissing Bridge Trail, Elmira, ON

     We were joined by our friend, Pam, for a morning out. Our original intention was to spend the time at the Conestogo Lake Conservation Area, but we arrived only to find it closed for the season.

     Undaunted we decided on the Kissing Bridge Trail instead.

     An American Robin (Turdus migratorius) was there to greet us as we began our stroll.

     Dark-eyed Juncos, everywhere delightful, so jaunty and engaging, seemed inclined to put on show for us.

     The prominent flash of their white outer tail feathers is so difficult to capture in flight, but you can clearly see it here.

     As might be expected, Eastern Grey Squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis) was very busy collecting and stashing food. 

     We are all familiar with the expression "busy as a bee" but "busy as a squirrel" would do just as well.

     In addition to the distinctive black morph shown above, the "conventional" grey form was present in abundance.

     A single American Red Squirrel (Tamiasciurus hudsonicus) also put in an appearance.

     This is a feisty little creature, seeming always to be in a bad mood, treating humans only as objects to be scolded.

     We frequently heard the characteristic "chip" call of Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) and it was not long before a handsome male posed for us. 

     The "chip" call is uttered in a variety of contexts, probably most frequently as location calls. Male and female both engage in this behaviour.

     Many Black-capped Chickadees kept us company, but the birds along this trail apparently have not come to recognize humans as a mobile source of food and we were unable to coax one to our outstretched hands.

     White-breasted Nuthatches (Sitta carolinensis) were unusually vocal, with several appearing to be calling to each other. We glimpsed them as they flitted around and landed on the backside of a trunk or behind branches. Finally an individual perched for a portrait!

    In similar fashion Blue Jays (Cyanocitta cristata) announced their presence and flashes of blue darted through the woods. At last, patience was rewarded and we had a direct line of sight.

     Wild Cucumber (Echinocystis lobata) was exceptionally prolific and there were dense stands at several points along the trail.

     One lone fruit was still green.

     Fungi were also ubiquitous.

     Even among the drab, denuded trees there were splashes of colour.

     Greater Burdock (Arctium lappa) is an impressive plant.

     Northern Cardinal kept us company most of the time, yet despite the vivid colour of the male, it was often hard to spot them. This individual presented a rear view only. 

     This apple tree seems to be infected with Apple Scab (Venturia inaequalis).

     Downy Woodpeckers (Dryobates pubescens) played games with us, fluttering from branch to trunk, and always perching on the back side. Patience was rewarded, however, and a female posed nicely for a picture.

     There has been a good deal of hype recently about making a country great again, whatever that implies, and presupposing earlier greatness by a generally accepted standard.

     There is never a need to make Nature great again. It is always magnificent. 

      We stopped to enjoy a coffee and a muffin. I neglected to take a picture of Miriam and Pam relishing the pleasure, but I can reach into the archives for a picture of Miriam's world class muffins.

      This is truly the essence of a good life. Hot coffee, delicious treats, the very best of company and juncos flitting around our feet.

      The simple joys really are the best. Better we all take the time to enjoy them more.