tanker-aviator-naturalist's Favorites

The subject of this observation is a certain tree I wanted (for a long time) to find geographically by triangulation to discover its identity, because it stands out in the landscape from a distance.

In the first photograph, from down in the valley, the tree in question is the slightly taller crown where the secondary lightning bolt (the smaller one on the right) appears to be striking (the lightning was actually two miles away - this is a single frame from video I recorded so I could time the thunder to determine the distance to the lightning, roughly five seconds sound travel time per mile).

In the second photo, looking across the valley from higher up the opposite slope, one can see how, from a viewing angle 1/4 mile farther to the northeast, the domed crown of this same tree is again quite conspicuous against the sky, compared to its neighbors, in the upper right part of the frame.

This tree is part of a mixed deciduous, mostly Maple-Oak-Beech forest. Relative to nearby trees, from a distance, this one has a noticeably darker green canopy of leaves, that persist in their Autumn brown state longer on the limbs than most others. These characteristics suggested to me that this was an Oak Tree, slightly larger than its neighbors in the woods. It should be a fairly simple matter of taking compass bearings from a few different places up and down the valley, and from an adjacent ridge, plot its location on a map and determine its coordinates, walk to that defined point using a phone's mapping capability, and look for a big Oak tree.

This plan worked very nicely. I approached the mapped location and found an Oak bigger than any other on that part of the hill, just above what, a century ago, was an apple orchard. The woods are too thick to see and compare trees on the ground so to speak, visibility in this part of the woods being rather short distance. I was also unable to measure the height of the tree by triangulation for the same reason. From the ground close up, one simply cannot see the top of the tree at all, because of intervening foliage. I might return in the winter though and try again.

The third photo shows the trunk at its narrowest profile, with a metal tape measure extended to three feet, so I estimate that the trunk at three feet above the ground is at least 27 inches (69 centimeters) in diameter, slightly more if measured from a view 90° around. Perhaps I'll go back with a cloth tape measure next time and record its circumference.

It was quite satisfying to wonder about, then methodically locate and identify this specific tree that one can see from "miles away." I can now refer to it as a landmark and give it a name - before it really is struck by lightning.

This tree resides on the Allegheny Plateau, at an altitude at its base of 400 meters (1312 feet), surrounded by Appalachian mixed mesophytic forest, on a sheep and cattle farm that was established in 1789.

These large Puffballs are the fruiting bodies of a Fungus that is otherwise underground in the soil of course, but how big are the unseen persistent growing structures? How big an area (or volume) do the mycelia of an individual fungal organism occupy? Are these four or five Puffballs fruiting bodies from a single extended fungus, or different individuals? Perhaps some late season rain after an extraordinarily dry Summer has suddenly brought out these large structures, but I seem to be finding them every time I look around in semi-overgrown flood plain habitats lately.

Having always heard that they are edible when relatively young (and still pure white inside), I found this one that looked like it had been cut with a knife as it grew and healed. I smelled the open area that had a slightly different texture, like a scar, and found that it had a peculiar, and not entirely appealing smell very like a wet dog that wants a bath with shampoo. If I were to pick a Puffball to eat, would this smell transfer to my hands and anything I carried it in? I assume it would be different once it was fried in some butter or whatever, but this smell was a little off-putting, and as of yet, I have not worked up the courage to cook and try this briefly abundant local wild food.

These appeared in loose groups like this all along this stretch of the Buffalo Creek floodplain that is here very loosely or openly wooded with Black Walnut and Willow, surrounded by more dense mixed Maple-Oak-Beech-Hickory forest, with some patches of planted evergreens around Camp Buffalo on higher ground. Elevation here around 290 meters (951 feet).

This is the famous Davie Poplar, approximately 350 years of age.

At dusk, hundreds and hundreds of Chimney Swifts swirl in vortex above, before darting into the hollow trunk to spend the night. An Eastern Gray Squirrel, however, awaits their arrival, fulfilling its classification as an omnivore. [see 3rd photo].

30 years ago, Dr. Jerome Jackson had amongst the slide set for his students of Ornithology, a photo that elicited primal gasps of horror and shock. The photo showed in gruesome detail an Eastern Gray Squirrel holding a male Northern Cardinal like an ice cream cone. The head of the cardinal had been devoured.

The memory of that photo sprang to mind when I espied the Eastern Gray Squirrel lingering around the hollow into which the Chimney Swifts would descend. And then it quietly slipped in to greet them upon their arrival.