New Adirondack Birds

Eight Loons on Star Lake in 2010

Growing up in Star Lake 50 years ago, my friends and I considered ourselves natural woodsmen with inborn knowledge of the plants and wildlife around us. In fact, we knew little. We exemplified those people who know too little to grasp the depth of their ignorance. Our knowledge of birds was mostly restricted to the larger and more conspicuous kinds familiar to almost everyone.

With that disclaimer, let me report that in recent years we have seen species of birds in and around Star Lake that were unnoticed and probably not there (or very rare) in the fifties and sixties. Here are the ones recently noticed:

Common Loons. We were aware of the presence of loons in the Adirondacks, but never saw one on Star Lake. We spent a lot of time on the lake, mostly in speedy motorboats, and therein may lie a connection; the constant high-speed recreational boat traffic of the time may have kept them away.

Wild Turkey. We have read that the mast-poor Adirondacks formerly provided insufficient winter food for turkeys. Sometime in more recent decades they developed the practice of feeding on winter buds, and this appears to account for their presence and current abundance.

Canada Goose. Those we have seen are probably the giant Canada variety, or so-called nuisance geese—resident populations derived from released individuals. They have shown up in many parts of the country.

Turkey Vulture. We did not notice them in the past and suspect they were either absent or very rare visitors.

Double-crested Cormorant. The appearance of this bird should be no surprise. Populations were seriously depressed by DDT in the fifties, sixties, and seventies, but recovered quickly. Cormorants are now abundant, increasing, and often unwelcome almost everywhere.

 Is global warming involved? Perhaps, but as noted above, other explanations suffice in some instances.

Canada Geese on Star Lake, 2007

Cheesemakers in Florida

When we began looking to learn more about the new American cheese, it seemed logical to begin close to home. Alas, our inquiries got us nowhere. "There are no cheesemakers in Florida," we heard, and we were offered varying reasons why making cheese had never become a Florida tradition.

We were eventually fortunate to meet local dairymen at our farmers market who make and sell goat milk cheeses. Neither pasteurized nor aged, their cheeses are technically not salable as food for people and must be labeled "not for human consumption." We were happy to have found them and enjoy their cheese, but wondered where were the other kinds of new cheesemakers we had met in Vermont, New York state, and Canada. They were producing pasteurized or aged raw milk cheeses that met all government food safety regulations.

Just as The Summer of a Thousand Cheeses was about to go off to the printer we began finding them. First we learned of a Florida dairy in nearby Live Oak selling farmstead cheeses in local markets. From them we learned of other new cheesemakers starting up in Winter Park, Florida; their cheeses had only just begun to reach the marketplace. And through the folks at the Winter Park Dairy we learned of a new creamery in Hawthorne, Florida, only 15 miles from Gainesville and so new that its first cheeses were just getting ready for sale.

A brief section on the Winter Park Dairy did make its way into our book, but timing was tight and we weren't able to include the others. We may have more to say about them in future blogs. For now we are pleased to display their labels and report that the Wainwright Dairy and the Cypress Point Creamery are producing great cheeses that are available in locally owned grocery stores and farmers markets in the Gainesville area.

Redevelopment of the J&L Site

For those who missed it, the Watertown Daily Times reported in early October that St. Lawrence County had given permission for redevelopment of 31.5 "minimally contaminated" acres of the 54-acre Benson Mines site. Remediation of the remaining 22.5 acres had long kept the entire acreage off limits to reuse. Even funds for assessing the problem had been difficult to obtain. There had been talk of a possible wood chipping operation locating there. Any new economic activity would seem to be a plus for the hard-pressed community.

Ruins of the sinter plant in 2008

(The remaining part of the sinter plant shown in the photo is no more than one-quarter of the structure that existed when I worked there for all or parts of the summers of 1962-1965. My experiences in the plant were important in my decision to write Gem of the Adirondacks.)

The Marshes from Shell Mound

Gulf Coast Salt Marshes from Shell Mound 10/17/2010

This photo, made from Shell Mound on Levy County, Florida's Gulf Coast, shows low and high salt marshes. The low marsh, farthest from Shell Mound and closest to open water, is an irregular light-colored band of smooth cordgrass (Spartina alterniflora). Closer in is a wide expanse of the darker black needlerush (Juncus roemerianus). This pattern repeats in many coastal areas. Smooth cordgrass is more tolerant of flooding. It traps sediments and raises the level of the marsh, moving its edge toward open water. By raising the level of soil, it creates habitat suitable for the needlerush.

The shell mound is a several thousand year old Indian midden covering five acres and rising 28 feet above mean sea level. It and the surrounding marshes are protected by the Lower Suwannee National Wildlife Refuge.

Somebody Must Know This Plant

Here's a plant I photographed last Sunday. It was growing on the slopes of the "shell mound," a 6,000 year old midden composed mainly of oyster shells piled up by paleo-Indians. My efforts to identify this small tree have so far come to nothing. It is fairly distinctive and seems like it should be easy.

In Awe of Poison Ivy

We are never pleased to encounter poison ivy. We do see it every day on our regular hikes and we exterminate plants when they show up in our yards in Florida, both in the verdant central peninsula and in a dune-like site on the Gulf Coast. How does it do that? How can a plant be so successful and so persistent in so many varied habitats?

It seems to follow us everywhere. We were warned to stay away from it while growing up in the Adirondacks of northern New York State, Russ had painful brushes with it doing field work in Pennsylvania and Kansas, we tried to avoid having its leaves brush our eyes as we canoed through a forested swamp in South Carolina, and we marveled at six-inch diameter vines climbing aged tuliptrees while we worked on a box turtle study in a floodplain forest in Maryland. The USDA plants database shows its range extending from Hudson Bay on the north to south Florida, and we have heard it also extends into Mexico. A 1924 paper we came across cites its range limits as 15 to 50 degrees north latitude and 62 to 125 degrees west latitude. In more familiar terms that would include the area from Guatemala almost to Hudson Bay, and from Nova Scotia to the West Coast of North America. We are certain we will see it as we paddle the lower Suwannee.

What a plant and what adaptations! True, it is adaptable in growth form, occurring as a shrub, a ground-hugging vine, and a climbing vine like those towering ones we saw in Maryland. We suspect its toxin has much to do with its success, however. Humans are said to be uniquely susceptible to its poison, but it is likely that most animals are deterred from eating the leaves. We do know that birds find the berry-like fruits delectable and suffer no apparent harm from them. They carry the seeds far and wide.

Photographed 10/11/2010 near our home in north central Florida

On the edge of a Gulf Coast salt marsh, near Cedar Key 10-17-2010

Poison ivy is not our friend and we will never be happy to come across it in the field, but we will see it for what it is and give it grudging admiration as a uniquely successful plant.