(Click on images to enlarge, click again to zoom.)
So much sky!
We become accustomed to the view from our yards, towns, local woods or, in our case, swamp habitat. Our line of sight is limited by buildings, fences or trees. Hiking through the woods provides glimpses of the heavens through small overhead windows but nothing like we were enjoying on this trip.
Once upon a time, prior to Florida’s human settlement, there existed over 2,000 square miles of dry prairie throughout the central part of the peninsula. This vast semi-open range was home to a large number of “Florida Cows”, remnants of cattle brought by Spanish explorers nearly 500 years ago. During the 19th and early 20th centuries, Florida was very busy in the cattle ranching business. “Cow Hunters” annually rounded up what were fairly wild herds and drove them to Gulf coast ports for shipment mainly to Cuba.
Today, some of those dry prairies have been preserved, one of the largest tracts being the Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area, where we enjoyed our breakfast under a seemingly infinite blue sky. (The three lakes are Kissimmee, Jackson and Marian.) This area is south of Orlando, north of big Lake Okeechobee and about 90 minutes due east of our house. Over 63,000 acres were purchased by the state in the 1970’s in an effort to preserve a portion of this unique prairie ecosystem.
Habitat here is a mix of dry and wet prairie with seasonal ponds scattered throughout and edged by moist flatwoods, hammocks and cypress ponds. An incredible diversity of flora and fauna can be found here.
As we traversed the open grasslands, there was an abundance of wildflowers, birds and insects just waiting to be discovered. I don’t think there was a moment during the entire morning that wasn’t filled with songs from Eastern Meadowlarks or Common Yellowthroats. Plenty of thistles offered nectar to an amazing number of thirsty bugs.
Take a look!
Lunate Longhorn-cuckoo Bee (Triepeolus lunatus) on Leavenworth’s Tickseed (Coreopsis leavenworthii). This bee was a first for us. The bright yellow Coreopsis was probably the most abundant flower of the day.
Pure and loud. The spring song of Eastern Meadowlarks could be heard from all around us all morning.
Not quite as thorny as its purple cousin, Nuttall’s Thistle (Cirsium nuttallii) was prevalent along the edges of the prairie grass. Many plants were well over six feet tall and we seldom saw a bloom without a pollinator drinking its fill.
Depressions throughout the area will contain water during the rainy season. The few we came across with a bit of water also had a reptilian water-lover in residence. (American Alligator).
Although its habitat is listed as pinewoods and moist sandhills, Blackroot (Pterocaulon pycnostachyum) seems to like the edge of the dry prairie just fine.
Competing with meadowlarks for the most abundant songster of the day was the Common Yellowthroat. There seemed to be a male hiding under every palmetto frond in the land. Finally, one popped into view long enough for poor photo.
Plenty of flowers means plenty of pollinators. Here, a Great Southern White (Ascia monuste) enjoys sipping nectar from a Purple Thistle (Cirsium horridulum). Heavy traffic from sweat bees was a challenge and the bees often chased away would-be competitors.
More bits of yellow in the landscape were produced by Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) stems waving in the breeze.
Did we mention the thistles were popular? Halictidae spp. on Purple Thistle (Cirsium horridulum).
A Twin-spot Skipper (Oligoria maculata) on a Purple Thistle (Cirsium horridulum) tries to get a drink before bees and beetles chase him away.
Sandweed (Hypericum fasciculatum) is also known as Peelbark St. Johnswort. By any name, the profuse blooms are beautiful.
Orange and yellow can look pretty nice together. Pearl Crescent (Phyciodes tharos) on Leavenworth’s tickseed (Coreopsis leavenworthii).
A Bigflower Pawpaw (Asimina obovata) overlooks a bit of open prairie.
Another thistle, another drinker. The Delaware Skipper (Anatrytone logan) is very attractive despite little in the way of wing markings.
One bird we had hoped to find was the Florida Grasshopper Sparrow. This sub-species is extremely rare and endangered. Our trip was in mid-April and although we struck out on Florida’s bird, we were treated to some great views and singing of its northern cousin visiting for the winter. The Florida sub-species (Ammodramus savannarum floridanus) is a bit smaller and overall darker than the Grasshopper Sparrow (Ammodramus savannarum). Maybe next time.
We thoroughly enjoyed a change of venue from our local patches. There was more to this visit as well, which we’ll talk about soon. This is one of our favorite areas to explore and we’ll return to the Florida prairie often.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
(Click on images to enlarge, click again to zoom.)
Plecia nearctica!
The season of the “Lovebug” is upon us. And upon the winshield. And upon the headlights. And upon the front bumper and grill and our faces and in our sandwiches. A plague one might think we would get used to since it occurs at the same time each year. I love bugs. I do not love Lovebugs. (If you’re interested, they are a type of fly in the Order Diptera.)
With the nasty bit out of the way, there we were once again visiting the Green Swamp. This time, it was a short trip in late afternoon. We continue to be amazed at the diversity of plant life to be found as we are still woefully short of rainfall. Flowers were plentiful in places but not yet abundant. Most blooms were busy hosting nectar-seeking insects.
Spring bird migration was still in progress and there were myriad calls, songs and warning cries. One more meal before sunset seemed to have our feathered friends flitting about the place with little regard for yours truly who was vainly attempting to chronicle their adventures.
Short but sweet. (She’s giving me THE LOOK.) Honest, I was referring to the trip.
A few things we encountered which held still for a moment. Click.
Southern Needleleaf (Tillandsia setacea) is an air plant in the Bromeliad family. One botanist has described its unkempt appearance high in the branches of oak trees as an airborne trash can, as it seems to accumulate all sorts of debris. Once you get past the scruffy looks, it has a remarkably beautiful bloom.
I almost stepped on this little dragon. The Little Blue Dragonlet (Erythrodiplax minuscula) is one of North America’s smallest dragonflies.
Often, one can smell its scent before spotting the bright yellow flowers of a Carolina Jessamine (Gelsemium sempervirens). CAUTION: Most parts of the plant are toxic.
We heard the clear whistling song of over a dozen White-eyed Vireos before finally finding one that held still for 1/2000 of a second.
The most abundant species of butterfly we found this evening were Crescents, which belong to the family of brush-footed butterflies. This is a Phaon Crescent (Phyciodes phaon) on Oakleaf Fleabane (Erigeron quercifolius). It has subtle differences to the similar Pearl Crescent shown at the beginning of the post.
The incredibly lovely Florida Bellflower (Rotanthella floridana) is a very small wildflower of damp meadows and marsh edges. Although it grows to 12-16 inches in height, it has very weak stems so is more often seen draped over neighboring plants. This beauty is endemic to Florida.
Quick! That bird is in the open! The Northern Parula is a woodland warbler which breeds in our area. At the moment, there are many dozens in the woods as the tourists are gathering for their return trip to more northerly nesting sites. The locals are not unhappy at their imminent departure. (“More bugs for us!”)
The adventure was short on time but long on pleasure. The shadows deepened as the sun sank toward the horizon and we agreed to return soon and linger longer in our favorite swamp.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
*
B3 – Our motto: “Birds, Blooms, Bugs”
B4 – Before
7 – Seven O’Clock
(It’s okay to shout “Bingo!” about now.)
(Click on images to enlarge, click again to zoom.)
For ten miles, the road stretches in a straight line through the Lake Wales Ridge State Forest. Multiple trails lead from the road into pine woods, oak scrub and sandhill habitat dotted with saw-palmetto. We stop often to inspect the fine reddish-colored sand to see who has passed in the night. On this cool morning, Wild Turkey prints were abundant. There were also raccoon, opossum, deer, snakes and some we just could not identify.
We often talk about enjoying the silence of the forest. “Silence” is probably not the right word. Especially in spring. Eastern Towhees seemed to be everywhere this morning. From their clear whistled “tow-hee” call notes to the males loudly advising to “drink your teeeeaaa!”, it was non-stop wherever we were. After their winter absence, it was great to once again hear the ascending trills of the Northern Parula. “Churrs” of Red-bellied woodpeckers were puncuated with their hammering on branches. High-pitched squeaks of Brown-headed Nuthatches reverberated among the tops of the long-leaf pines. Fussy, squawking Scrub Jays, whistling Tufted Titmice, Carolina Wrens with a theme similar to the Towhee’s as they repeated seemingly non-stop “teakettle, teakettle, teakettle …“, a Red-shouldered Hawk screams overhead, Northern Bob-Whites calling out their name, the pure whistling of Cardinals.
One song we were hoping to hear materialized just after breakfast by the lake. “Heeeeere kitty kitty kitty.” The uncommon Bachman’s Sparrow is picky about where it lives. Pine forests with open palmetto and/or wiregrass as the only understory and where fire cleanses the area every few years. Icing on our morning cake!
Throw in a few buzzy insects and the forest can be downright noisy! The difference from our daily sounds of “civilization” is stark. Rather than the “silence” of the forest, perhaps we experience “stillness” which one definition describes as “freedom from agitation”. Although, that posing Bachman’s Sparrow created significant agitation as I fussed with camera settings and focusing and trying not to breathe or step on a dry twig or ………
Come on! What’s that over there?
There was no mistaking the pure song of an Eastern Meadowlark. Although we are more accustomed to seeing them in open fields, a bit of gold among the tall grass and pines was just as satisfying.
Fairly abundant in spring and summer, Smallfruit Beggarticks (Bidens mitis) provides terrific splashes of yellow along the edges of the forest.
Gray Catbirds are numerous from late fall through spring. As it becomes time to return to their northern breeding grounds, they form into groups as large as two dozen. This one had no interest in joining a group or worrying about us as it was intent on turning over every leaf in its pursuit of brunch.
Sometimes called hatpins, Flattened Pipewort (Eriocaulon compressum) was a bit of a surprise as it’s usually found near water. Perhaps there was some bit of moisture under the soil which made this dry-looking spot acceptable.
Palamedes Swallowtails (Pterourus palamedes) were busy throughout the woods.
Lots of white flowers waved at us on tall stalks as we enjoyed the beauty of Netted Pawpaw (Asimina reticulata). Soon, the plants will bear plenty of fruit for wildlife to nibble.
Although I took about a hundred photographs of this subject, I’ll be kind and only post one. A singing male Bachman’s Sparrow was the highlight of the day.
Gini thought this Pricklypear looked like a rabbit. Who am I to argue? (Opuntia species.) Looks like a Gopher Tortoise took a bite of the spiny bunny.
The Great Crested Flycatcher breeds throughout our area. And we are happy about that!
Near-endemic to Florida, the bright Florida Scrub Frostweed (Crocanthemum nashii) snuggles up to the Saw Palmetto, where rattlesnakes also like to snuggle.
Today, the woods rang out with the songs of Northern Parula warblers. They tend to be scarce during winter and our “local” birds may migrate to the southern part of the state. It’s wonderful to find so many returning to the area!
Another Florida near-endemic, Four-petal St. John’s Wort (Hypericum tetrapetalum) is a woody shrub which can grow to about three feet tall.
No visit to the Lake Wales Ridge State Forest would be complete without enjoying the antics of the Florida Scrub Jay. They did not disappoint.
Life offers challenges to us all. How we handle the challenges can make all the difference in our overall well-being. Our own hurdles with surgeries and infirmities definitely interrupted our lifestyle routine. We are healing. We are getting “Back On Track”.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
(Click on images to enlarge, click again to zoom.)
Thistles!
Thrilling!
I know. We’re easily excitable. Following a marathon of medical adventures, we needed to absorb as much fresh air as possible to recharge our souls. Today was a good step toward that goal.
A refresher on central Florida’s Green Swamp region. Over 560,000 acres of wetlands, flatlands and low ridges are bounded by prominent sandy ridgelines. The region forms a sort of plateau above a large portion of the peninsula’s aquifer system, which is an important source of drinking water for a large part of the state’s population. Rainwater drains across the surface to create the headwaters of four major rivers: the Withlacoochee, the Ocklawaha, the Hillsborough and the Peace. Habitat in the area includes sandhills, flatwoods, oak hammocks, river swamp and cypress ponds. An incredible diversity of life exists here.
(This morning’s adventure took place about a month ago, eight weeks after Gini’s second knee replacement surgery. She celebrated by doing her daily exercises on an old logging road.)
Our winter has been drier than normal and many of our favorite spots were filled with dust. Some low spots had a bit of dampness just below the surface and it was obvious that Spring was rapidly approaching. Those thistles were one indication, along with a host of nectar-loving insects on almost every bloom. Another hint of the coming seasonal change was the blue welcome flags hoisted atop dozens of Prairie (Savanna) Irises.
As winter wanes, avian visitors gather in small groups to fuel up for their return northward where they will begin seeking mates and building nests. The woods were filled with songs, chattering and scolding. Music to our ears.
We shall try to catch up on all of your blogs as we will be attempting to visit familiar patches and discover new venues.
(Insert rain dance music here >>>>)
A resident in this area is the Wood Stork. Although their overall population has been stable for several years, they are considered a threatened species due to their vulnerability to dry years and habitat loss.
One year, we will beat the wildlife to the small and delicious fruit of the Highbush Blueberry (Vaccinium corymbosum). (Don’t bet too much on our success.)
Busy and noisy, the trees were bustiling with the small vacuum-cleaning efforts of Blue-gray Gnatcatchers. The species breeds here, but seasonal migrants by the dozens really like our bugs. (And we appreciate their efforts to eat ’em all!)
It is all-too-easy to overlook nearby beauty when our eyes are affixed on distant beauty. While tromping toward the Highbush Blueberry blooms, I almost crushed several lovely White Bog Violets (Viola lanceolata) under my feet. Another refreshing sign of Spring.
Calling, hammering, calling. Red-bellied Woodpeckers were numerous and quite consumed with staking out territories, seeking willing mates and yelling at intruders into their domain. (That would be – us.)
Bumble Bee (Sp. Bombus) on Purple Thistle (Cirsium horridulum). There were plenty of flowers today, but based on the incredible number of new stalks we saw, this may soon become The Purple Swamp!
More screaming gang-bangers. Tufted Titmice, like many small birds, project an attitude several times their actual size. Don’t let them know, but we think they are just so stinkin’ cute!
Florida has over a dozen members of the Tillandsia genus hanging around in various habitats. By far, (with the exception of Spanish Moss/T. usneoides) the most common in our area is the Southern Needleleaf (Tillandsia setacea). It usually looks quite unkempt but makes up for it with a really beautiful bloom.
Beginning to bloom in late winter, the Netted Pawpaw (Asimina reticulata) can grow to over four feet tall and produces an edible fruit. Again, just try and find a ripe one before a ‘possum does!
We were happily relieved to see a sign that the area did actually have moist soil in several places. Morning sunlight showcased new blooms and there were many plants which should be in flower in the coming weeks. The light blue-to purple Prairie/Savanna Iris (Iris savannarum) was just what Doctor Nature ordered.
One of our favorites squeaked at us from a tall long-leaf pine tree. Soon, we counted six Brown-headed Nuthatches overhead doing their patented rubber-ducky impression. These little birds are among the earliest nesting songbirds in Florida, usually beginning to breed as early as the second week in February.
More thistles. More pollinators. Purple Thistle (Cirsium horridulum) with Palamedes Swallowtail (Papilio palamedes). These were by far the most abundant butterfly species of the day.
Rounding out our survey of dampness evidence were many spreading tufts of bright blue created by the small flowers of Narrowleaf Blue-eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium).
We remember things in certain ways. In discussing the Green Swamp, Gini and I tend to think of our visits during the wet season. Multiple shades of green and abundant flowers. The reality of near-drought conditions provided a different perspective, but one tinged with optimism fueled by more new growth than we anticipated. Can’t wait for the rains to work some magic!
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
(Click to enlarge images, click again to zoom.)
Sunrise. It happens every day. Many of us are still in bed or busy rushing to jobs or getting the kids ready for school and don’t notice our sun coming up right on schedule. Then – there are other days.
Our trip to the forest had already been an adventure. Some of those rushing to that job were so excited about getting there the dense fog didn’t slow them down one bit. Ghost vehicles suddenly appeared behind us only to zoom around, swerving back just in time to avoid becoming a grill decoration for an oncoming 18-wheeler.
Relief. We left the main highway, made a couple of turns on rural roads and just at “official sunrise time” arrived at the welcome red clay road which runs straight for ten miles through the heart of a portion of the Lake Wales Ridge State Forest. Today we could scarcely see a few dozen yards ahead, much less the sun. Perfect!
Longleaf pines on either side of us faded into gray apparitions before disappearing altogether. The air was damp and normal sounds of the forest were absent. No birds or insects at all. Standing still, the silence was ethereal and quite pleasant.
It was the third week of February. Cold weather had taken a break and the day began a bit cool and became comfortably warm by 10:00. The forest understory was littered with small white decorations Gini declared fairies had created during the night. Close. Little sheetweaver spiders could be considered fairies. Right?
Imperceptibly, the low ground-hugging cloud layers disappeared to reveal bright blue skies dotted with a few pure white clouds. Bird calls and songs seemed to be all around us. Insects scattered with each footfall. A fox squirrel scolded loudly at our intrusion into its domain. Flowers. In February.
See for yourself……
Fairies. Worldwide there are nearly 5,000 species of sheetweaver and dwarf spiders (Family Linyphiidae). I don’t think we saw that many webs, but we didn’t actually count them all.
One of the members of this large family is called a Bowl and Doily Weaver Spider (Frontinella communis). Pretty distinctive web.
This looks like there may have been a web-building contest between a sheetweaver and an orbweaver.
The sun began making an effort to burn through the fog at our favorite breakfast spot on the shore of a small lake.
The support structure of a boat dock made a fine spot for an orbweaver to showcase her talents. Morning dew added a few jewels to her creation.
As the fog lifted, the woods and scrub became active and loud. A Northern Mockingbird stopped singing long enough to glance our way just to be sure we were no threat.
Some areas were littered with Florida Pricklypear (Opuntia austrina) and Deer Moss Lichen (Cladonia spp.).
A small female Downy Woodpecker busily probed for breakfast.
Slightly larger than its cousin, the Downy, a Hairy Woodpecker has a noticeably larger bill. This species is not very common throughout Florida.
We did not expect to see much in the way of blooming flora at this time of year, and we didn’t. A nice surprise were several patches of Florida Lupine (Lupinus floridanus). Different from other Lupine species by less intensely-colored blooms, this plant is endemic to Florida and only occurs in a few counties.
Another unexpected pleasure was finding several butterfly species searching for something with nectar. (“Hey – over there – Lupine juice!”) This small Barred Yellow (Eurema daira) is in its winter form and as summer approaches the underside will turn satiny white.
Found only in scrub areas in Florida, the Florida Scrub Jay remains in loose family groups throughout the year. As breeding season kicks in, first-year birds from the previous season will help take care of newly hatched jays this year. Typical of jays, once one spotted us, he raised the alarm and a half-dozen soon surrounded us yelling and pointing.
From thick fog-soaked forest to sunny skies and singing birds, our morning in the pine woods was incredibly enjoyable. We can’t wait to get back. Gini is itching to get her feet in that red clay and dance, dance, dance.
We hope you enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
Our Natural Places 