Column: Nature’s World

My neighbor Crandall stops by.

“How are you doing?” I ask.

“Everything is nearly copacetic. I dream of a better tomorrow where chickens could cross the road and not have their motives questioned. I attended the Poison Ivy Festival. I’m itching to go back. I didn’t win the festival’s demolition derby for yet another year. I would have won if I hadn’t had to stop so many times to ask for directions. I could have used the money. I know that money isn’t everything. Take Henry Ford, for example, even with all of his millions, he never owned a Cadillac. I didn’t come from money. My middle name is just the initial Z. That’s all my parents could afford. I’ve been thinking about my financial situation. Today, I diversified my portfolio. I buried half of it in a coffee can in the front yard and the rest in a sandwich bag out back. I had a toothache so I went to see Les Plack, the dentist. I asked how much he charged to pull a wisdom tooth. He told me his rock bottom price was $300. I whined that $300 was a lot of money for a few minutes work.”

“What did Les do?” I say.

“Oh, he charged me $300, but he pulled the tooth slowly.”

Freed

It was my pleasure to recruit children to release butterflies at the Steele County Fair. I placed a butterfly, recently emerged from a chrysalis, into a child’s hand. The butterflies tested their wings before flying away. The kids smiled broadly. I felt like I was wearing tights and was made of steel.

I transported a cliff swallow that had been sprung from the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center to a prime release spot. On the way there, an Eagles song played softly in the car. I hoped the swallow would find the music inspiring. There were a number of swallow species present at Albert Lea Lake, including cliff swallows. I wished the swallow traveling mercies and opened its carrier. It zoomed off, heading north as if it were a Delta flight late getting into Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport. Just when I thought it would fly beyond sight in a northerly direction, it banked and flew back to the lake. It encountered a number of cliff swallows. It followed two of them so far out over the water that I could no longer distinguish it from the other swallows. A good ending. A greater beginning.

Goosing an apple

Marv Lenze, of Albert Lea, has a couple of apple trees in his yard. One is a sour apple for making pies and the other is a sweet apple for eating. Canada geese have discovered the apple trees and found an appetite for apples. Lenze watched a goose shake branches until an apple fell. Then it ate the fruit.

Deer crossing

Tom Jessen, of Madelia, wrote, “While driving on a busy Highway 169, I saw a deer come bounding out of a cornfield and dash across the ditch. Just as it got to the side of the road, it stopped, looked both directions, and then cautiously proceeded across both lanes to the woods on the other side. If that deer were my kid, I’d be proud of him!”

Q and A

Jenean Mortenson, of Faribault, wrote, “I haven’t found a single monarch butterfly chrysalis. Where should I look for them?” A striking green and gold, jewel-like chrysalis could be anywhere — on a milkweed plant, leaf, twig, rock and fence rail, among other places. The caterpillar attaches itself where it feels safe. Butterfly caterpillars do not spin cocoons. If you see a caterpillar spinning a cocoon, it is going to become a moth, not a butterfly. Butterfly caterpillars transform themselves into an intermediate stage called a chrysalis or pupa. When the monarch caterpillar is ready to become a chrysalis, it hangs upside down in the shape of the letter J. It wiggles until its skin splits and a chrysalis appears where a caterpillar used to be. That trick would make any magician proud.

Pete Steiner, of Mankato, asked what the difference is between a cicada and a locust. Many people refer to cicadas as locusts. A locust is a type of grasshopper. The cicada is related to spittlebugs and leafhoppers. The annual or dog-day cicada has a life cycle that produces adults each summer. Periodical cicadas, which are found in Iowa but not in Minnesota, have either a 13- or 17-year life cycle. The 17-year periodical cicada spends 17 years underground before emerging synchronously. Early colonists called them locusts because they found the periodical emergence of billions of large, noisy insects analogous to the biblical plagues of locusts.

Tom Benson, of Hartland, asked how hummingbirds are banded. I spoke at the Henderson Hummingbird Hurrah where hummingbirds were banded. The trap, made of soft mesh for safety, surrounds a feeder. The sides are drawn open, luring birds in to feed. Once birds fly in, the sides are dropped by a hidden cord, trapping the birds inside. A tiny ring is placed around a leg. The uniquely numbered band tells when, where and what.

Steve Overgaard, of Albert Lea, spotted a groundhog in a tree and wondered if that was a common occurrence. Despite their heavy-bodied appearance, groundhogs (woodchucks) can climb trees to escape predators or survey their environment. They prefer to retreat to their burrows when threatened. My wife had a yellow lab named Gus whose hobby was treeing groundhogs.

Dave Ausen, of Alden, wondered if any civet cats remain in Minnesota. The abundance of small farms in the early 1900s facilitated an expanding population of the civet cat (eastern spotted skunk). They denned under buildings and fed on stored crops, rodents, eggs and chickens. Only six eastern spotted skunks have been documented in the last 20 years in Minnesota. The consolidation of farms, modern agricultural practices, and pesticide use have contributed to its decline.

Pelican Breeze

Tour Albert Lea Lake with me on Sept. 25. Call 507-383-2630 for reservations.

Thanks for stopping by

“We cannot learn from one another until we stop shouting at one another — until we speak quietly enough so that our words can be heard as well as our voices.” — Richard M. Nixon

“Friendship is a sheltering tree.” — Samuel Taylor Coleridge

DO GOOD.

Email Al Batt at SnoEowl@aol.com.