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Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts

Thursday, October 8, 2020

South American Splendor

Hispanic Heritage Month is about to wrap up, and before it does let's celebrate by taking a look at some of the fantastic ecosystems south of the border. While the Amazon and Andes are the best known features of South America, there are many diverse habitats. This week we're exploring the Pantanal, the Pampas, and the Llanos, important natural features maybe you've never heard of.

The Pantanal is the largest wetlands in the world, located in Brazil, Bolivia, and Paraguay. Located just south of the Amazon, and in its shadow, the Pantanal actually has a higher concentration of wildlife than its more celebrated neighbor. This wetland is flooded by annual monsoon rains that leave behind pools of snacks for birds. Unlike the Amazon, the Pantanal is open, so ecotourism is easier. Not only are there better views of the wildlife and scenery, it's also more accessible because of the openness.

Pantanal (The Guardian)

The Pampas is a large grassland like the Serengeti or the Great Plains. It is in Argentina, Brazil, and Uraguay. It is flat and gently slopes toward the Atlantic. The western Pampas near the Andes is a dry section with brackish streams and ponds, but in the east it is more humid, better watered, and more fertile. While much of the land is still unchanged, large areas have been developed for agriculture.

Pampas (The South American Specialists)

The Llanos is a tropical grassland in Colombia and Venezuela. Wedged between mountains and highlands, the Orinoco River drains the region. Seasonal rains flood the plains, and after the rainy season it can be quite parched. The dryness had limited development in the past, but irrigation and mining activities are making it economical for people to live in the area.

Llanos (Latin America & Caribbean Geographic)

South America has so much more to offer than tropical rain forests and jagged mountain peaks. I hope this piqued your curiosity about these and other lesser known natural wonders. Information this week comes from National Geographic (Pantanal), Britannica (Pampas), and Geography (Llanos).



Wednesday, September 23, 2020

Firefly Recap 2020

The 2020 Firefly Watch is complete, and it's time to crunch the numbers. While many science opportunities were cancelled this year because of the coronavirus, standing in my parents' back yard at night was not affected at all. 


I started with this project in 2018 and chose to continue at the same location in order to monitor the same population. Protocol for Firefly Watch is to count the number of flashes in three periods of ten seconds each on the same night. We record the number of flashes, the color of the flashes, the flash pattern (single flash, J shaped, double flash, etc.), and weather data- temperature, wind, cloud cover, and precipitation. I chose to use the same dates every year. I ended observation when after being shut out twice in a row. This year observations ended on September 3, the earliest end date so far.

Observations got off to a slow start this year. By the time I got through the first observation of June, I only had three flashes recorded. By the end of June, things were picking up. Flashes peaked slightly earlier than previous years, and lasted slightly longer. The post-peak crash wasn't as steep this year. Despite the slow start, early finish, and missing two observations because of vacation, the 2020 total number of flashes was the highest of the three seasons I've done Firefly Watch. 2018 had 694 flashes, 674 in 2019, and 708 in 2020. The increases and decreases year to year are slight, and statistically speaking the population is stable. 


I blame the slow start on the weather. My first observation was May 21, which was less than three weeks after our last snow flurry of the season. A warm winter gave way to a cold spring, which probably delayed firefly emergence.

I will credit the coronavirus along with the weather for the higher number of flashes this year. Fireflies prefer a dark night so they can see each other better. Due to the virus, baseball games were cancelled at the park adjacent to my parents' house. No stadium lights, and the lights at the school next door were off late in the season due to school being digital to start the year. There was no rain during any of my observations this year, and that made for better flying weather. No lightning also makes a darker sky.


I am already looking forward to the start of the 2021 season. Observations will be on Fridays and Mondays next year. Three day weekend getaways might have to wait until September, but as long as firefly numbers remain steady or increase, it will be worth the wait.




Thursday, August 13, 2020

Crater Lake

This month is six years since my visit to fabulous Crater Lake National Park in Oregon. America's deepest lake at nearly 2000 feet in depth, it sits inside the collapsed caldera of an ancient volcano. Wizard Island near the west side of the lake is a volcano within a volcano. The lake is fed entirely by rain and snow. The amount falling in each year is nearly equal to what evaporates of leaks out the bottom. Crater Lake is what I can only describe as being impossibly blue. Pictures don't do it justice.

Crater Lake seen from West Rim Drive

In addition to the lake, the park also features forests, wildflower meadows, waterfalls, pumice deserts, cinder cones, and formations called pinnacles. The pumice deserts were formed by volcanic eruptions depositing pumice. Like sand, it drains very well so there is little moisture retained in the ground. Like in a true desert, only the hardiest plants can scratch out a living. 

Pumice desert

The pinnacles were originally volcanic steam vents. As gas and steam were released, moisture mixed with the surrounding ash and formed a thick cement. Mount Mazama, the ancient volcano that formed Crater Lake, had its last major eruption 7700 years ago. Following a massive eruption of ash and pumice, a huge explosion caused the mountain to collapse into itself. 

Wizard Island, a caldera within a caldera
Red Cinder Cone, a shadow of the volcanic past

While visiting Crater Lake, I got to do a bit of exploring. I started a sunset hike up The Watchman, one of the peaks along the crater's rim. I got turned around by an incoming thunderstorm. On another hike across the pumice prairie and through a burned forest, I turned around when I lost sight of the horizon with more storms in the forecast. I went down into a canyon along a mountain stream and back up, saw the pinnacles, a waterfall, and small meadow with varying degrees of wetness. Different wildflowers were growing in different areas due to elevation, soil, and moisture levels- a great example of zonation.

Some of the wildlife in the park includes Clark's nutcracker, golden mantled ground squirrels, mule deer, black bears, foxes, bobcats, and pika. I was lucky enough to see the ground squirrel, deer, gray jays, and a tiny frog.

After leaving Crater Lake, I headed to the coast and stayed at the Oregon Dunes. There was no activity at the Sea Lion Caves nearby. The next stop before going home was a quick visit to Mount Hood. I stank after a week in the woods without showers, but the adventure was worth it. This week's information comes from USGS and NPS. All photos are my own. I'll be taking a break for vacation and will return in September with a look at some hard workers, just in time for Labor Day.

Thursday, May 14, 2020

Another Red Knot Failure

Last year, I spent a day along the Jersey Shore (Delaware Bay side, away from the beach-goers) in search of migratory shorebirds making their way north. In particular, I was after the rare and elusive red knot. I failed to find any, but they were at the first beach I visited just hours before I arrived.

This year, I planned a second trip to try again. Red knots stop at Delaware Bay to refuel on horseshoe crab eggs, and with the full moon this past weekend I was sure the crabs would be spawning. I planned a camping trip so I could spend more than just a day searching, and be there first thing in the morning without having to leave home at 2 AM.

The corona virus put a stop to my plans. With snow, rain, and wind there were two nice days out of the four I had planned on spending at the beach so it wasn't a total loss. I'll have to try again next year. Until then, enjoy some pictures from last year's expedition.

Firefly Watch starts next week and will go on as planned. Stay tuned for a report this fall!