A Post in Three Acts

This is going to be a long one, but I haven’t had a lot of time to write lately and am going to try to make up for lost time. To make this post more palatable, I’m splitting it into three acts. Act 1 includes a couple brief announcements. Act 2 is a series of photos from my trip to the Niobrara Valley Preserve this week. Act 3 is a fun game. You and pick and choose as you like.

Act 1: Announcements

Here are two big announcements. The first is a reminder, which is that we will be having a public field day at The Nature Conservancy’s Platte River Prairies on July 13, 2024. The day will start at 7:30am and run through about 2pm, but you can come and go as you like. We’ll have sessions on reptiles/amphibians, small mammals, prairie restoration, prairie ecology, bird and plant identification and much more. There is no cost for the field day. Please bring your own lunch and whatever you want to protect yourself from the sun and chiggers. Final details will be coming later.

Second, we are hiring a land steward for the Platte River Prairies. This person will be supervised by Preserve Manager Cody Miller and help with all aspects of our restoration and land stewardship work. Please spread the word. Interested applicants can learn more and apply at nature.org/careers.

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Act 2: NVP Photos

I spent a couple days at the Niobrara Valley Preserve this week. More and more wildflowers are starting to bloom, but most of them are the small and more scattered species. That just makes them extra fun to search for. Wildlife is very active, however, including more and more invertebrates. That’s good news for weirdos like me, who enjoy lying on the ground with a macro lens.

Morning light behind a bull bison in a recently burned portion of his 10,000 acre pasture.

I say that, but many of my photos from the week ended up focusing on bison. For the most part, that happened only because I was looking for other photo subjects within the big east bison pasture at the Preserve. I photographed other things, but ended up near groups of bison as good lighting conditions developed. It was hard to keep my eyes on wildflowers and insects when big shaggy beasts were posing nearby.

How can I say no to a face like this?
Or this one?
A lot of of the bison were partway through their annual process of losing their winter coats.
Here’s another shaggy bison working toward his summer costume.

This year’s calf coterie is growing fast. Most of the calves have probably been born now, though there are usually a few stragglers throughout the summer. There’s been a noticeable change in the protective behavior of the herd around those calves. When I was last at the Preserve, I had to be really cautious about my approach to keep the animals from gathering up the calves and running off. This time, as I approached in my vehicle, moms sprinted toward any calves that had strayed a little away from them, but once everyone was accounted for, the herd seemed to calm pretty quickly.

I thought about cutting down the number of calf photos I included below, but I know my audience…

Calves are growing fast but their parents are still feeling protective.
Checking out a locoweed plant. It didn’t eat it, which is probably good. (Grazing animals are usually pretty smart about what they choose to eat.)
This calf snuggled up to its mom between feeding bouts.
There are two ways to interpret this photo. A) Mom was feeling loving toward her calf, and gave it a little nuzzling. B) Mom had an itch and the calf was the closest scratching post available. I’m honestly not sure which situation was happening.
Another calf.

I did manage to photograph something other than bison, though. Lots of grasses were flowering, including junegrass, needle-and-thread, green needlegrass, porcupine grass, Kentucky bluegrass, Scribner’s panicum, and others. Locoweed, prairie turnip, hairy puccoon, western wallflower, white penstemon, and shell leaf penstemon were a few of the wildflowers in bloom.

Needle-and-thread grass (Hesperostipa comata) in flower.
I found a couple patches of prairie turnip (Pediomelum esculentum), including this one on the north side of the river and another up in the Sandhills south of the river.
More prairie turnip in an area we burned last December.

A few years ago, I wrote about some leaf galls on goldenrod plants that seemed to have little flowers growing from the galls. Upon further research (by which I mean I did an online search, not that I set up a scientific study), I found out that there’s a fascinating relationship between a midge and a fungus that combine to create galls that are safer for the midge larvae inside them. Apparently, a similar relationship occurs within the leaves of shell leaf fungus because I saw the same kind of fungal fruiting bodies growing on the colorful galls on penstemon leaves. Click here to read the goldenrod/midge/fungus gall story.

Shell leaf penstemon was just starting to bloom, but some of the leaf galls also had “flowers” as the fungi inside them prepared to release spores.

I spent time poking around a couple sand blowouts and photographing tracks. I found a lot of sharp-tailed grouse tracks, but my favorite photo ended up being one with beetle tracks heading uphill (I think?).

Beetle tracks in a sand blowout.

The public hiking trail was looking great, so I stopped by for a little while one morning. There were some big patches of western wallflower (Erysimum capitatum), as well as hairy puccoon (Lithospermum caroliniense) blooming along the trail, and the river was gorgeous in the early day light. We installed bathrooms at the trail head last year, along with some treat interpretative signage. If you’re in the area to float the river or for other reasons, and need to use the facilities, please feel free. You’re welcome to hike the trails, too.

The public hiking trail at the Niobrara Valley Preserve.
Western wallflower and the Niobrara River, as seen from the hiking trail.

I was able to photograph two snakes this trip, which was fun. The first was a hognose snake I found on the gravel road while I was driving. It didn’t feel like performing either of its two defensive strategies for me, but that was fine. I didn’t press.

The second snake was a bull snake we found while showing some guests around a burned portion of the bison pasture. Carson Schultz, our NVP stewardship manager, managed to grab the snake to show it to people up close. When he released it, I grabbed a few photos before we let it go about its business.

I also got to photograph a black-tailed jackrabbit that thought it was hiding from us as we drove our guests out to see some bison. It ran off, but not very far, and tried hide in a pretty insubstantial patch of cover.

A hognose snake on the road.
A bull snake cheerfully wishing me a good day (I’m guessing) before it went off to hunt.
This jackrabbit thought it was hiding, but even pinning its ears down wasn’t enough to keep me from seeing it…

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Act 3: The Game

I call this game “Sunrise or Sunset?”

It’s easy to play. I’ll show you a bunch of bison photos from the Niobrara Valley Preserve this week. Some were taken at sunrise. Others were taken at sunset. All you have to do is decide which are which. Easy, right? (Hint: the sun comes up in the east and sets in the west. Bonus hint: don’t take this game too seriously.)

I’ll give you the answer below each photo, so be careful where you look if you want to make serious guesses without having the answer spoiled ahead of time.

#1

#1. This photo was clearly taken as the sun was going down. See how the bison’s tail is pointing downward? That’s a good clue. Also, I was facing west, which – as I told you already – is where the sun sets. Did you get this one right? If so – congratulations! If not, don’t worry, you’ll have more chances to apply what you’ve learned here.

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#2

#2. This is a trick one because you can’t see the tails very well. However, clever observers will note that the bison is facing east, which means the sun behind it must be in the west. Thus, it’s a sunset photo! Also, all the bison have that ‘end of day’ energy as they graze. Bonus note: The young bison bull closest to the camera appears to be watering the grass. Clicking on the photo will give you a better view if that’s of interest to you. (If you’re reading this in an email, click on the title to open it online so you can click on photos.)

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#3.

#3. Ok, this is a tricky one. The tail is down, which might make you think sunset, but notice that the bull is grazing uphill as it’s silhouetted against the sun in the eastern sky. The combination of all those factors tips the balance toward a sunrise photo, which it is. Don’t feel bad if you got this one wrong. The next one will be easier.

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#4

#4. See? This one’s easy – mostly because it’s the same bison as in the earlier photo, which we already determined was a sunrise shot. Also, notice how some of the sand being thrown up by the wallowing bull is kind of clumped together? That’s a likely indicator of some early morning dew/moisture in the sand.

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#5.

#5. If you were just guessing at these, you might guess sunset on this one because the last two were sunrise photos and it would be pretty wild to have three sunrise photos in a row. However, if you did that, you’d be wrong. This is another sunrise photo. Yes, I know the tails are down, but the bison are grazing uphill again, so you have to balance those two factors. Also, the sun is in the east, which pretty much seals the deal.

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#6.

#6. Surely, I wouldn’t put yet another sunrise photo here? Correct! This is a sunset photo, as you can tell from the fact that the sun is in the west. Also, the bison in the foreground has obviously had a long day and is looking forward to a break from the hot sun.

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Important disclaimer: Whether a bison’s tail is up or down doesn’t really have anything to do with sunrises or sunsets. I was just pulling your leg. A tail up in the air usually means a bison is either relieving itself or feeling like stomping you into the ground. It’s a good idea not to take any chances that it’s the former. Stay safe out there. Also, bison will graze uphill or downhill whenever they feel like it, no matter what people tell you. What you can take to the bank, though, is that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. That’s just facts.

Photos of the Week – May 24, 2024

Kim and I were in Texas last weekend for her latest ultramarathon race. It was a brutally hot day at Possum Kingdom Lake, a couple hours west of Fort Worth. The race started at 6am, though, when it was still pleasantly – but very temporarily – cool. After Kim and the other runners started down the trail, I spent an hour or so with my camera before I had to head to the first aid station to hand water and food to my wife.

A long-jawed orb weaver before sunrise.
A green lynx spider (?) on a prickly poppy flower.
Another long-jawed orb weaver on its web.

I started my day with spiders. Before sunrise, I was looking for webs to silhouette against the thin line of color on the horizon. After the sun came up, those webs were even easier to see. I also returned to a green lynx spider I’d seen on a prickly poppy before the sun came up. It was still waiting for me (ok, probably not for me, specifically) on the same flower.

After I photographed a bunch of spiders, I started to look at the wildflowers around me, including a lot of blanket flowers (Gaillardia sp.) and lemon horse mint (Monarda citriodora). I also quickly noticed how many sharp, pokey things were in the shrubby grassland I was walking through. Several cactus species, yucca, sandburs, and prickly poppy seemed like plenty. But Kim had brushed up against a spurge nettle plant (Cnidoscolus stimulosus) almost immediately upon arrival, earning some painful, itchy bumps on her lower leg.

I brushed against a few, too, before I figured out which plant was causing the pain. I can only assume the lack of warning signs featuring this plant is part of a dastardly plan among Texans to torment tourists. And yes, I know it’s found in other southern states besides Texas, but that’s no excuse for not warning those of us from northern states where we’re less used to plants trying to bite us with venomous fangs.

Blanket flower.
Lemon horse mint.
This is the well-named spurge nettle (though that’s just one of many names for it) that gave both Kim and me some painful welts.
A grass species I didn’t recognize.
An almost-ready-to-open Plains Coreopsis flower (Coreopsis tinctoria).

Boy, they grow prickly pear cacti really big in Texas! I guess I should have expected that. I think I was looking at Opuntia engelmannii, but what do I know?

A prickly pear cactus the size of an economy car is impressive. The good thing is that they’re pretty easy to avoid at that size. Of course, that only works if you stay away from them. If you lean in closely to photograph the flowers or their invertebrate visitors, there are some big and small spines that can easily end up embedded in a careless photographer. I still have a couple small ones in the side of my left index finger as I type this.

I think this is Texas prickly pear (Opuntia engelmannii).
Prickly pear flower.
A bee (Diadasia sp?) leaving a prickly pear flower after gathering pollen.
Another, smaller, bee in a cactus flower.

I hung around those cactus flowers quite a while during the middle of the afternoon, watching bees flying in and out and tracking beetles working their way sluggishly through the anthers. The sun was bright and made photography difficult, but I had my homemade diffuser with me (a flexible hoop with a very thin fabric stretched across it).

With my camera on a tripod, I managed to hold the diffuser in place and soften the light on flowers and insects crawling around the cacti. It wasn’t a foolproof method, both because the diffuser scared quite a few insects away and because trying to do too many things led to more encounters with cactus spines than I’d like to admit. That includes the spines that got stuck in the diffuser and then in my hand when I adjusted my grip on the diffuser. Seriously, Texas, what’s with all these sharp things?

In addition to bees feeding on already-bloomed flowers, I also saw some big leaf-footed bugs feeding on the flower buds that hadn’t yet opened. They had their long straw-like mouthparts inserted right into the buds and stayed there while I held my big diffuser above them and snapped their photos. Below are two photos of the same bug, showing its mouth stuck into the flower bud.

Leaf-footed bug on prickly pear flower bud.
Side view of the same leaf-footed bug.

Between aid station visits to help Kim, I wandered around much of the day, looking at wildflowers, insects, birds, and whatever else I could find. Some of the wildflowers were species, or at least genera, I recognized, but I had to look others up. If it hadn’t been so stinking hot, it would have been a great day. It was still fun, but that’s because I wasn’t running more than two back-to-back marathons on rocky, winding trails in glaring heat.

Prickly pear flower (Argemone sp.)
Texas lantana, I think (Lantana urticoides).
I have no idea what this is. It was real spiny, though!

Around mid morning, I spotted a roadrunner at one of the aid stations. It ran and then flew off just as I realized what I was looking at. Later in the afternoon, I saw it again as I was filling Kim’s water and helping her get back on the trail. My camera wasn’t close enough to be useful – and I was also busy doing my actual job for the day – so I missed the opportunity to photograph it. After Kim ran off, though, I stuck around to see if I could find it again. I did.

When I came across the roadrunner, it had just captured a lizard on (appropriately) an abandoned section of road being overrun with wildflowers and grasses. When the roadrunner spotted me, it flew off, but not far enough that I couldn’t slowly creep up close enough to get a photo of it on a wire before it flew again. I let it go.

A roadrunner with a captured lizard in its mouth.

Late in the day, as the sun was getting lower and many of the runners were just a little past half done with their run (excepting the one taken away by ambulance), I found some bare sand patches that looked promising. I photographed a tiger beetle hunting small prey and a wasp digging a hole. I assumed the wasp would soon bury paralyzed prey in that hole after laying an egg on it. Nearby, I found a few species of grasshoppers and some glowing grasses backlit against the sun.

Tiger beetle.
A wasp digging in the sand.
Grasshopper on yucca.
Purple three-awn, I think (Aristida purpurea).

I ended the daylight hours as I’d started them – with a spider. This one was building a web between some grass stems with the last of the light illuminating its legs. I said goodbye to it and headed back to the car to start sorting and processing photos on my computer while Kim kept running through the darkness. We each have our own individual skills and interests, I guess.

I mentioned earlier that spurge nettle, the plant that attacked us, has other common names. A few of those common names include bull nettle, tread-softly, and finger rot. Those all seem appropriate. They’d all look good on a warning sign, too. Come on, Texas!