Harvard Museum of Natural History

© Loree Griffin Burns

This past Saturday was a glorious–sunny and warm with a lovely breeze all day long–and I spent the early part of it talking about citizen science at the Harvard Museum of Natural History. That’s where I met Zepur, age six, who arrived sporting ladbybug earrings and clutching her own copy of Citizen Scientists. She told me she and her dad had already begun listening for frogs near their house, and then she pulled these hand-written checklists and notes from inside the front cover of her book. It was the sort of moment that makes a writer like me giddy.

I gave my talk, including a little introduction to the Lost Ladybug Project, and then Zepur, her dad, myself, and a dozen hearty ladybugging newbies headed out into the Museum’s courtyard for a look around. We were in the middle of Cambridge, Massachusetts, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. We tried to shake ladybugs out of magnolias trees and lilac bushes, but came up empty. In fact, I was gearing up to launch my “sometimes science is like this” schtick when we approached what I now call the Crabapple Tree of Happiness. There we found the mother lode of ladybug larvae, enough for everyone to have a closer look. And then, with much cheering and oohing and ahhing, we spotted one mighty fine and much-appreciated Asian multicolored ladybug.

Thank you Zepur and friends. It was fun hunting ladybugs with you!

Saving Bees

© Loree Griffin Burns

Yesterday I submitted my research update for the paperback edition of THE HIVE DETECTIVES. Phew. But I cannot get honey bees–all bees, actually–out of my head.

According to The Plight of the Bees, a review of the CCD crisis and pollinator issues published last year in Environmental Science & Technology (volume 45, pages 34-38), there are three factors at play in bee declines: 1) bee diseases and parasites, 2) chemical contamination of flowers, nesting sites and nesting materials, and 3) insufficient food sources across the growing season.

There isn’t a whole lot you and I can do about number one, but we can do something about numbers two and three.

What, exactly?

Stop using pesticides on your garden and herbicides on your lawn.

Plant more flowers.

Think about it. And if your an over-achiever, consider helping bees by joining The Great Sunflower Project, too.

Wednesday Wild: Yellow-bellied sapsucker

© Loree Griffin Burns

My daughter and I made our first observations for MassAudubon’s Big Barn Study yesterday. We had seen barn swallows around the yard and suspected they were living in our big, old barn. What we didn’t realize was that they were entering the barn through the garage. (These doors are closed much of the day. Should we leave the garage doors open? Will they abandon these nests if we don’t? Will we be allowed in the garage once eggs are laid?) Or that they were building nests in not-so-safe places. (Like on top of a live electrical outlet.) As usual, closer observation has piqued our interest, and we’ve got a lot to look into.

We also learned that barn swallows are very hard to capture on film. We never saw one rest or perch, and trying to follow one in flight was a dizzy-making exercise.  Luckily, we saw a lot of other birds while we were observing the swallows … including this yellow-bellied sapsucker. (We’d seen the strange holes on this tree–a European mountain ash–but weren’t sure who was responsible. Now we know.)

Favorite fact for this bird, mined from iBird Explorer North: A group of sapsuckers are collectively known as a slurp. Who knew?

Happy Wednesday!

Hive Detectives Update

© Ellen Harasimowicz

“Tracking CCD continues to be complex. Despite several claims, we still don’t know the cause …”
Jeff Pettis, USDA press release May 31, 2012

The paperback edition The Hive Detectives: Chronicle of a Honey Bee Catastrophe will be released next spring, and I’ve been preparing a research update to include in the backmatter. Which means I’ve been reading up on two years of new CCD research, talking with the hive detectives (Jeff Pettis, pictured above, Dennis vanEngelsdorp, Diana Cox-Foster, and Maryann Frazier), and boiling all the information I collected down into a few succinct and reader-friendly paragraphs.

Sounds like it should have taken a single working day, right? Or maybe two? Ha. It took me over a month. I may be thorough, but I am not fast.

Then again, what is the rush? The results reported in this 2012 paper from hive detectives Jeff Pettis and Dennis vanEngelsdorp were derived from experiments in progress when Ellen Harasimowicz took the photo above … in April 2008. Some things take time. Sometimes thorough is more important than fast.

(That’s my story and I am sticking to it!)

Wednesday Wild: Tiger Moth

© Loree Griffin Burns


I’m cheating a bit, because I didn’t actually spend a moment in the wild today. Or yesterday. And things aren’t looking too good for tomorrow either. Some weeks are like that. The good news is that all this inside-at-my-desk time translates into a steadily lengthening rough draft of my new book. (Hooray!) And since I’m sort of a wildlife-in-my-backyard junkie, I always have a backup photograph to share…

I found this moth dazed under the porch lights one night last week and was struck by its size and bright markings. It was fairly easy to identify it (through my favorite online insect field guide, bugguide.net) as a tiger moth. I followed up with my trusty handheld field guide (Caterpillars of Eastern North America, by David L. Wagner) and was surprised with this tidbit: “Adults, when gently squeezed, may bubble generous amounts of their yellow “blood” out of the front corners of the thorax …”

Eww. I did not try it.

Got Barn Swallows?

© Loree Griffin Burns

In the forefront of this picture is my newly dug garden. (More on that another time.)

In the background is our big, old barn. Which lately I’ve been looking at as more of a laboratory.  The sort of place where I could do this.

(How wicked cool is that?)

Stay tuned …

More Wednesday Wild: Bob’s Spicebush Swallowtail

© Bob R, Grade 5

 

This photo arrived by email over the weekend, along with a note from the fifth grader who snapped it. “Today I was working in the yard, and I saw a butterfly,” he said, “so I went to go check it out .. I am pretty sure it is a Spicebush Swallowtail …”

He thought I’d like to see it, and he was right. (Thank you, Bob!) In one of those fun happenings that fuels my school visiting, a teacher at Bob’s school independently sent me photos of a froglet she found in her backyard.

Look closely at the world around you, friends. There is so much to see.

(Read that last sentence every morning and you won’t even need me to come to your school. Although if you’d like me to come to your school, you should check out the School Visits page of my website. I added my first 2012-2013 school year events to the calendar this morning!)

Insect Sounds

Remember this record? Well, I finally had a chance to hear it, thanks to my friend Doris, who actually owns a record player.

(Thank you, Doris!)

This track list will give you an idea how cool the recording was, but only an idea. It doesn’t tell you, for example, that the commentary accompanying the insect sounds occasionally included nifty experiments. Like the one where the sound recorder, Albro Gaul, set up an audio experiment to prove to listeners that wasps don’t fly in the dark.

Here’s how it worked …

Mr. Gaul put a wasp’s nest in a cage rigged with a microphone. At bedtime, he turned out the lights in the room and went to sleep. The wasps appeared to go to sleep, too, because the buzzing their wings make in flight settled down.

In the middle of the night, Mr. Gaul got up and turned the lights on. The hive remained quiet. So he slapped the cage until the wasps woke up. How could you tell when they were awake? Buzzing. Lots of loud and angry buzzing.

Then Mr. Gaul turned the lights out, and the buzzing stopped. Because, apparently, wasps don’t fly in the dark.

When he turned the lights on again, the loud, angry buzzing resumed.

Again, lights off: silence.

Again, lights on: buzzing.

This was by far my favorite track on the album. Although the “six-footed cadence” of a viceroy butterfly walking was pretty cool, too.