Third Black Bear Sighted Last Week

A black bear was seen near this corner of Linden and Nassau last Tuesday evening, according to a "reverse 911" call we received. That's the third black bear to come through Princeton in the last couple months.

A relevant post from last month can be found at PrincetonPrimer that includes this: In spring, the one and a half year olds head out to seek new territory. Bears are highly territorial, and the young bears much prefer to seek new territories than to risk what can be very violent and debilitating battles with already established bears. Princeton's recent visits by bears are of this nature.

There's also a whimsical but useful letter about how to react in the extremely rare case of a bear attack, to be found in the Town Topics and reposted below:

In the description of what to do if you see a black bear, I was astonished to learn that, in the very rare case that a black bear attacks, the best tactic is to fight back. Princetonians have not been called upon to display such courage since 1777, when we all could conveniently claim we had yet to be born.

To bridge this gap between experience and expectation, I herein provide a translation of the wildlife officials’ instructions, customized to fit the Princetonian lifestyle:

Black bears are near-sighted, so make noise to avoid surprising it. If the bear stands up on its hind legs, don’t worry. It’s just trying to see you better. Make sure the bear has an escape route. For instance, if it is following you out of the public library, hold the door open and give it plenty of room. If you encounter the bear in the woods, or on Nassau Street, you can back away slowly, but don't turn your back to the bear. In a calm, assertive voice, put the bear on notice that you are a Princetonian fully armed with opinions, and will not hesitate to express them.

Avoid eye contact. If it doesn't run away right off, bang the pot you happen to be carrying with you, or download a "kitchenware noise" app on your iphone. Bears hate to cook, which explains their interest in garbage. Otherwise, clap your hands, raise your arms over your head, wave a jacket, all of which should make you look large and impressive.
 
On rare occasions, the bear will do a bluff charge, at speeds up to 35 mph. If a cafe is close by, this is a good time to duck in for a double latte. If that option is not available, then you'll need to dig deep. Fleeing will only make you appear weak. Perhaps the stirring words of a high school football coach will come to mind. In any case, stand your ground, wave your arms and shout. Pretend you're in front of town council, venting your outrage over moving the Dinky. The bear should veer away from you at the last moment, providing a bigger thrill than any 3D movie at the mall.

If the bear actually attacks, which is extremely rare, it's time to drop all remaining pretense of civility. Fight back. Don't worry about the bear's lack of access to dental care. Without asking permission, bop it on the nose. Bears' noses are 100 times more sensitive than ours. Use this sensitivity to your advantage, all the while reveling in what a great story this will make to tell the grandkids.

In case you surf the internet for more info, don't be confused by accounts of how to behave when encountering a grizzly bear out west, where the protocol is completely different and not nearly so gallant.

Update: A friend just back from the Boundary Waters area of northern Minnesota told me that a woman was attacked by a black bear up there, and had successfully gotten it to go away by punching it in the nose.

Young Black Bear Spotted in Princeton

Seen in Herrontown Woods yesterday, Saturday, July 2, the black bear was moving through town today, and was on Fisher Ave (near Harrison St and Hamilton Ave) around 8am. The police and animal control officer are aware, and say that the bear is not aggressive. The PlanetPrinceton facebook page is a good place to get updates.

It's a good time to brush up on etiquette for black bear encounters. How you should respond to a black bear is completely different from the recommended response when encountering a grizzly bear out west.

This is serious business, of course, but after reading the state's recommendations, which call upon us to exhibit considerable self-control and courage, you can find below a comic version customized for Princetonians, which I wrote in 2012 after a presentation on black bears at town hall.

At the presentation last month on black bears, given by state officials in township hall, I was astonished to learn that, in the very rare case that a black bear attacks, the best tactic is to fight back. Princetonians have not been called upon to display such courage since 1777, when we all could conveniently claim we had yet to be born. 

To bridge this gap between experience and expectation, I herein provide a translation of the wildlife officials’ instructions, customized to fit the Princetonian lifestyle:

Black bears are near-sighted, so make noise to avoid surprising it. If the bear stands up on its hind legs, don’t worry. It’s just trying to see you better. Make sure the bear has an escape route. For instance, if it is following you out of the public library, hold the door open and give it plenty of room. If you encounter the bear in the woods, or on Nassau Street, you can back away slowly, but don't turn your back to the bear. In a calm, assertive voice, put the bear on notice that you are a Princetonian fully armed with opinions, and will not hesitate to express them. 

Avoid eye contact. If it doesn't run away right off, bang the pot you happen to be carrying with you, or download a "kitchenware noise" app on your iphone. Bears hate to cook, which explains their interest in garbage. Otherwise, clap your hands, raise your arms over your head, wave a jacket, all of which should make you look large and impressive.

On rare occasions, the bear will do a bluff charge, at speeds up to 35 mph. If a cafe is close by, this is a good time to duck in for a double latte. If that option is not available, then you'll need to dig deep. Fleeing will only make you appear weak. Perhaps the stirring words of a high school football coach will come to mind. In any case, stand your ground, wave your arms and shout. Pretend you're in front of town council, venting your outrage over moving the Dinky. The bear should veer away from you at the last moment, providing a bigger thrill than any 3D movie at the mall. 

If the bear actually attacks, which is extremely rare, it's time to drop all remaining pretense of civility. Fight back. Don't worry about the bear's lack of access to dental care. Without asking permission, bop it on the nose. Bears' noses are 100 times more sensitive than ours. Use this sensitivity to your advantage, all the while reveling in what a great story this will make to tell the grandkids.

In case you surf the internet for more info, don't be confused by accounts of how to behave when encountering a grizzly bear out west, where the protocol is completely different and not nearly so gallant.July, 2012

Black Bear Seen in Princeton

 This notice from the University:

Date:  Monday, June 20

Incident:  Black Bear Sighting

At approximately 2 pm. on Monday, June 20, a black bear sighting was reported on the Lake Campus (300 Washington Road).

Black bears by nature tend to be wary of people.

The New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection has tips on black bears available at https://nj.gov/dep/fgw/bears/index.html

A compendium of previous black bear sightings can be found by typing "bear" into the search box for this blog. They include an explanation of why black bears come wandering our way this time of year, which has to do with young males seeking new territory.

Many people wonder how to behave when a bear is encountered. Below are the fruits of my research, conducted ten years ago and adapted for a Princeton audience. These words are as relevant now as they were then. Please note that grizzly bears, which are not found around here, require a completely different response.

Black bears are near-sighted, so make noise to avoid surprising them. If the bear stands up on its hind legs, don’t worry. It’s just trying to see you better. Make sure the bear has an escape route. For instance, if it is following you out of the public library, hold the door open and give it plenty of room. If you encounter the bear in the woods, or on Nassau Street, you can back away slowly, but don't turn your back to the bear. In a calm, assertive voice, put the bear on notice that you are a Princetonian fully armed with opinions, and will not hesitate to express them.

Avoid eye contact. If it doesn't run away right off, bang the pot you happen to be carrying with you, or download a "kitchenware noise" app on your cellphone. Bears hate to cook, which explains their interest in garbage. Otherwise, clap your hands, raise your arms over your head, wave a jacket, all of which should make you look large and impressive.

On rare occasions, the bear will do a bluff charge, at speeds up to 35 mph. If a cafe is close by, this is a good time to duck in for a double latte. If that option is not available, then you'll need to dig deep. Fleeing will only make you appear weak. Perhaps the stirring words of a high school football coach will come to mind. In any case, stand your ground, wave your arms and shout. Pretend you're in front of town council, venting your outrage over moving the Dinky. The bear should veer away from you at the last moment, providing a bigger thrill than any 3D movie at the mall.

If the bear actually attacks, which is extremely rare, it's time to drop all remaining pretense of civility. Fight back. Don't worry about the bear's lack of access to dental care. Without asking permission, bop it on the nose. Bears' noses are 100 times more sensitive than ours. Use this sensitivity to your advantage, all the while reveling in what a great story this will make to tell the grandkids.

Note: In case you surf the internet for more info, don't be confused by accounts of how to behave when encountering a grizzly bear out west, where the protocol is completely different and not nearly so gallant.

Etiquette for Black Bear Encounters

Some black bears have been spotted in the area, as reported in Planetprinceton.com. To make sure people are prepared for any eventuality, below is a reposting of my free interpretation of a presentation given last year by state wildlife officials about how to deal with black bears.

At the presentation last month on black bears, given by state officials in township hall, I was astonished to learn that, in the very rare case that a black bear attacks, the best tactic is to fight back. Princetonians have not been called upon to display such courage since 1777, when we all could conveniently claim we had yet to be born.

To bridge this gap between experience and expectation, I herein provide a translation of the wildlife officials’ instructions, customized to fit the Princetonian lifestyle:

Black bears are near-sighted, so make noise to avoid surprising it. If the bear stands up on its hind legs, don’t worry. It’s just trying to see you better. Make sure the bear has an escape route. For instance, if it is following you out of the public library, hold the door open and give it plenty of room. If you encounter the bear in the woods, or on Nassau Street, you can back away slowly, but don't turn your back to the bear. In a calm, assertive voice, put the bear on notice that you are a Princetonian fully armed with opinions, and will not hesitate to express them.

Avoid eye contact. If it doesn't run away right off, bang the pot you happen to be carrying with you, or download a "kitchenware noise" app on your iphone. Bears hate to cook, which explains their interest in garbage. Otherwise, clap your hands, raise your arms over your head, wave a jacket, all of which should make you look large and impressive.

On rare occasions, the bear will do a bluff charge, at speeds up to 35 mph. If a cafe is close by, this is a good time to duck in for a double latte. If that option is not available, then you'll need to dig deep. Fleeing will only make you appear weak. Perhaps the stirring words of a high school football coach will come to mind. In any case, stand your ground, wave your arms and shout. Pretend you're in front of town council, venting your outrage over moving the Dinky. The bear should veer away from you at the last moment, providing a bigger thrill than any 3D movie at the mall.

If the bear actually attacks, which is extremely rare, it's time to drop all remaining pretense of civility. Fight back. Don't worry about the bear's lack of access to dental care. Without asking permission, bop it on the nose. Bears' noses are 100 times more sensitive than ours. Use this sensitivity to your advantage, all the while reveling in what a great story this will make to tell the grandkids.

In case you surf the internet for more info, don't be confused by accounts of how to behave when encountering a grizzly bear out west, where the protocol is completely different and not nearly so gallant.
July, 2012

Black Bear in the Borough!

A Safety Alert from Princeton University

Date: Saturday, June 7, 2008

Incident: Black Bear Sighting

The Department of Public Safety is alerting community members about a reported sighting of a black bear in Princeton Borough. The bear was seen by Princeton Borough Police at about 9 a.m. today. In addition a bear sighting was reported in Princeton Township and Montgomery Township on Friday, June 6, 2008, in the evening hours.

Princeton Borough Police, Princeton Township Police, the municipal Animal Control Officer, and the New Jersey Division of Wildlife Fish and Game were alerted to this report.

The borough police reported the bear was seen on Cleveland Lane, Westcott Drive and Pardoe Road. It was last seen heading west by Mountain Avenue and Great Road.

The bear did not come into contact with any person, nor did it present any threat. Do not approach the bear or attempt to feed it.

If you see a bear, please contact the Princeton Borough Police, Princeton Township Police, the University's Department of Public Safety, or dial 911 and give the exact location of the animal. Leave the area calmly and slowly.

A Bear Visits Riverside Elementary

As reported in TapInto Princeton, a black bear stopped by Riverside Elementary School during school hours this past Wednesday, May 28. The school was in "lock down" mode for two hours until the bear had moved out of the neighborhood. (Photo by Syth Devoe) The school, whose mascot is the River Bear, was reportedly last visited by a real bear in August of 2022. 

This PrincetonNatureNotes website serves as a diary of sorts for bear visits to Princeton. A common cause of bear visits is young males seeking new territory. For previous posts, you can do a keyword search for "bear," but "latte" works pretty well, too. "Duck in for a latte" is part of a comic but accurate description I wrote in 2012 about how a Princetonian should behave when encountering a black bear. 

Some background info on black bears in NJ can be found in a MyBergen article. 

Update: Carolyn Jones' writeup in TapInto Princeton, "Hey, Princeton, Time To Be 'Bear Aware' -- American Black Bears Are Increasingly Common," gives a good overview, including an extensive interview with animal control officer, Jim Ferry. 

A Black Bear Visits Princeton

With the spotting of a "teenage" black bear in Princeton yesterday, it's time to brush up on bear facts. Princeton township has useful info from the NJ Dept. of Environmental Protection on how to behave if you encounter a black bear. For anyone heading out west into grizzly country this summer, it's good to know that the appropriate response to a black bear is completely different from what to do when happening upon a grizzly.

A photo of the bear and more information on its stroll through town can be found at Planet Princeton. I doubt it expected to go from a life of anonymity to celebrity status in a day, with a crowd gathering to watch it over at the Princeton Cemetery while news helicopters hovered overhead.

Black Bear Update

A second black bear was sighted in Princeton yesterday. Here is info copied from an email circulated, I believe, by the district school superintendent:

There have been sightings of a young male bear throughout the
community over recent days, including yesterday, the 16th of
June.Township and Borough police officers are well aware of the
situation and animal control has been tracking the bear. Today alone
it was in Smoyer Park, by the lake at the end of Harrison and in other
areas near Riverside and Littlebrook Schools. And then he retreated
through the woods behind the homes on Herrontown Road, into the areas
of the gas pipeline and back towards the northwest. He enjoyed the
garbage at Smoyer Park . So do not put garbage out the night before
pick ups, and make sure you have clean grills in your back yards.

This is the information from the Animal Control Officer:

The bear is a 100-125 pound young male and has been non-aggressive.

Be aware of your surroundings.

If you spot the bear, calmly raise your hands, clap your hands briefly
and make sure the bear knows you are there.

Don't startle the bear. It will probably run away.

You should call the police with the time and location of the
sighting.

Wooly Bears and Giant Leopard Moths

Bear with me, for though this wooly caterpillar bears some resemblance to a wooly bear, it is not. One of the Rotary Club volunteers helping out at Herrontown Woods this past Saturday (thanks Rotary Club!) had found a wooly bear earlier, but this one was bigger, and all black, without the wooly bear's middle patch of brown. Those are red stripes inbetween rings of fuzz.

It was quietly pillaging leaf matter from the slim pillar of a young black locust tree next to the trail that passes by the Veblen cottage. Some research yielded a name: Giant Leopard Moth, and if you look at the photos of the adult moth, you'll find the name's likely source is a snow leopard--white with a beautiful pattern of black dots. "Giant" in this instance refers to its 3 inch wing span.

Both the wooly bear, alias Isabella Tiger Moth (Pyrrharctia isabella), and the Giant Leopard Moth (Hypercompe scribonia) are in the family Arctidae, which like the Arctic is rooted in the Greek word for bear, Arktos. The Great Bear and Little Bear constellations, being built on the Big and Little Dippers, are on either side of the North Star. The wooly bear's range actually extends up to the arctic. Both species will overwinter in their wooly state, then form a cocoon in the spring. The wooly bear in particular is seen this time of year crawling around looking for a good crevice to spend the winter in. (Posts about overwintering wooly bears here and here.)

This is all one leaf on the black locust (Robinia pseudoacacia). Unlike many caterpillars that are very picky about their host plants, the Giant Leopard Moth caterpillar feeds on many species, including dandelions.

Lions, leopards and bears, oh my. 

Weekend Black Bear Sightings in Princeton

Before venturing out today, you might want to read yesterday's (June 8) report on two bear sightings in Princeton, at PlanetPrinceton.com. Below is a link to the state website's information on important bear facts, and my notes from last year's DEP presentation, about the history of bears in NJ and why young bears are roaming into new territory this time of year.

Bear facts:
http://www.state.nj.us/dep/fgw/pdf/bear/bearfacts_know.pdf

Notes from a June, 2012 presentation by the NJ Dept. of Environmental Protrection:

Here is what I learned, mixed with some info from the states informative website: Black bears used to range over all of what is now NJ, but were killed indiscriminately until 1953, when they were given some protection under New Jersey's game laws. The hunting season was closed in 1971. Over the past fifteen years, their population has spread from northwest New Jersey until they have now been sighted in every county in NJ. Despite the expansion, funding for bear management has faced deep cuts. Complaints about bears doubled from 2006 to 2008, but have remained fairly stable since then. Hunts were allowed in 2010 and 2011 during a five day stretch in December.

In spring, the one and a half year olds head out to seek new territory. Bears are highly territorial, and the young bears much prefer to seek new territories than to risk what can be very violent and debilitating battles with already established bears. Princeton's recent visits by bears are of this nature.

Lots of photos were shown of bear-proof trash cans, and bears climbing up to empty the contents of birdfeeders. Another showed a garage door bent out of shape by bears seeking food. Since any bear that experiences the satisfactions of garbage will seek more of the same, it's important that homeowners in northern Jersey and other areas where bears have become numerous act in concert to keep food out of reach. Some towns have passed ordinances to regulate trash storage.

More Bear Sightings in Princeton

Princeton has no resident black bears, but they do occasionally wander through in the summer. There were some sightings beginning Aug. 11 near the old Butler tract, then August 13 in the Herrontown Woods area of northeastern Princeton, then other sightings through August 18 down along the Stony Brook.

The wisdom of a comic description I've posted in the past detailing how Princetonians should behave when encountering a black bear is confirmed in a recent article by the Town Topics. 

Black bears, particularly young males, are motivated to seek out new territory in the summer. One online source describes how young bears stay with their mothers for about 18 months, then are shooed away when the mother receives the persistent interest of an adult male, commencing another cycle of reproduction. 

Each bear must establish a home range. Female bears often share their ranges with their female offspring, but the young males must find new territory. That search sometimes includes Princeton. To get a sense of what the young male bears are looking for, Princeton is roughly 18 square miles, which is on the small side for a male bear's home range. Though we have a lot of open space, the habitat isn't enough to sustain a bear. Thus the brief visits in summer.

There is considerable solitude in the 20 plus years of a bear's life. The females have the recurring company of their offspring for 18 months at a stretch, but adult males spend their time alone except for a periodic few days' courtship with a female.

Tent Caterpillars and the History of Black Cherry Trees in Herrontown Woods

Black cherry trees draw attention in early spring because of the "tents" that tent caterpillars weave on them. I was surprised to find out that these tents are sometimes mistaken for gypsy moth infestations. There's also some disagreement as to how damaging tent caterpillars are to the trees they feast upon, so I decided to do some investigation. 

First, some distinctions between tent caterpillars and gypsy moths. Tent caterpillars are native, feed primarily on cherry trees, build conspicuous tents, and do their feeding on the fresh, tender leaves just beginning to emerge in April. Gypsy moths are a nonnative species imported from Europe, start feeding in May on a very wide spectrum of hardwoods and even some conifers, and do not build tents. 

Gypsy Moths

The story of gypsy moths in our area is most easily grasped by looking at how many articles about them have been archived in the Papers of Princeton through the decades. Outbreaks of gypsy moths remained minor in New Jersey until the 60s, then grew into massive defoliations of forests in the 1970s. By the early 1980s, gypsy moth populations were beginning to drop, thanks to a natural virus, introduced parasites, and aerial sprayings. A naturally occurring bacteria called Btk proved safe and effective when sprayed on trees where gypsy moths were feeding. There was a recurrence from 2007-8, but numbers have dropped off since then. Though the forests largely healed, the trauma of past gypsy moth infestations lives on in people's memories. 

Tent Caterpillars

What we have this spring, and springs extending back through millenia, are native tent caterpillars making their tents. 

Some sources on the web suggest that tent caterpillars, despite the powerful visual of the tents and defoliated branches, don't do enough damage to a tree to worry about. I'd really like to believe that, but this young black cherry tree, now bearing eleven tents from which the caterpillars make forays, is almost completely defoliated. 

They say a tree can survive one complete defoliation, but if defoliated several years in a row, it becomes increasingly susceptible to disease and insect attack.

Meanwhile, our very hungry tent caterpillars have even followed a branch over to a neighboring pin oak, which now, too, is getting chowed down upon.

We pause to note a couple recurring themes in nature. One is that the tent caterpillars will shift to a less desirable food source (a pin oak tree) if their favored cherry tree leaves run out. Deer, too, will begin eating less desirable foliage if they run out of their favorites. Thus, an overabundance of deer in the 1990s almost wiped out spicebush in our Princeton woodlands, despite it being low on the list of deer's preferred foods.

The other example of a recurring theme in nature is that the tent caterpillar eats only one crop of leaves, then is done for the year, allowing the tree to recover. The worst thing a predator could do is be so effective as to eliminate its prey. 

The introduction of a new insect, though, could throw off this balance of predator and prey. If another insect, say, a gypsy moth, came along and defoliated the same tree yet again in the same growing season, that tree would be in big trouble, having twice committed energy to manufacturing a whole crop of leaves, only to have them eaten. One question is whether the gypsy moth outbreaks in the '70s and '80s killed more of one tree species than another, causing changes in forest composition still noticeable today.

There's a lot of caterpillar behavior whose purpose is not immediately obvious. A week ago, caterpillars were crawling about on the outside of the tent, turning this way and that. My best guess was that they were expanding the tent by adding another layer of silk, but no strands could be seen coming from their bodies as they moved about. 

And why are these caterpillars clustered on the side of the tree, outside of their protective tents? Wouldn't they be easy picking for the birds that are said to consume them? 

As their spring residency has continued at the Barden in Herrontown Woods, the tent caterpillars have spun not only isolated tents but also enveloped the trunk and limbs in a silken web reminiscent of the webbing people drape on their shrubs for Halloween. A closer look reveals that the caterpillars have spun silken highways upon which they commute from tent to the "pasture" of the canopy. These highways are only one lane wide, requiring a caterpillar to temporarily step aside if it meets another coming the opposite direction. Some silken highways are suspended in air, like overpasses--a great way to smooth out the rough terrain of a black cherry tree's "black potato chip" bark. 

A tree colonized by tent caterpillars, then, has elements of occupancy, transport, and exploitation not unlike the human footprint on the land, with our homes, highways, and farm fields. A big difference being that the tent caterpillar's settlement is seasonal--more like the impact of nomadic tribes than our permanent villages--giving the tree a chance to recover.

Another big difference between tent caterpillars and other builders of shelters--bees, ants, birds, mice, people--is that the caterpillars don't seem to bring anything back to the shelter other than their bigger, well-fed selves. They aren't adults bringing food back to the young. The caterpillars, like super resourceful children, work collectively to raise themselves, then leave the tree on their own to pupate and turn into adult moths. 

A nice writeup about tent caterpillars (Malacosoma americanum) found at ThoughtCo.com states that the broad side of the tents faces the sun, and that the caterpillars make three forays per day, returning to their tents inbetween. That will be something to check out next spring.

Surprisingly, the subject of wild cherry trees in what is now the Barden (formerly a pine plantation) came up more than 50 years ago, in Richard J. Kramer's book about Herrontown Woods. 

"Wild black cherry, which grows to magnificent size in the Allegheny Mountains, is a poorly formed tree in Herrontown Woods, occurring mostly in areas which were recently open fields. Its best growth has been in the pine plantation, where specimens are 30 to 40 feet tall and possibly may develop into good-sized trees. Apparently these black cherries were able to develop along with the young pines after these were planted in the open field. Although the birds do bring seeds of the cherry into the forest, the many seedlings and the few saplings that occur there grow poorly and remain shrub-like."

Gone now are most of the pine trees in the pine plantation, and those larger cherry trees are nowhere to be found. Our 12 little black cherry trees in the Barden, all saddled with tent caterpillars, must be the descendants of the larger cherry trees Kramer describes. Only one large black cherry tree is known to exist now in Herrontown Woods, almost completely free of tent caterpillars, growing next to Veblen House. Have tent caterpillars contributed to keeping the black cherry trees of Herrontown Woods from achieving full size, in the past as well as in the present?

If we wanted to relieve the cherry trees of the spring burden of hungry caterpillars, we could remove the tents and remember to crush the egg masses laid by adult moths on small branches in late summer, as suggested in this useful post about the insect. 

But as insect numbers continue to decline, the role of trees as food for native insects grows in importance. And if the cherry trees remain small, that will allow more sunlight to reach the many wildflowers growing in the Barden. Leaving the tent caterpillars to grow undisturbed can serve as an experiment, to see if they continue to flourish year after year, or if nature's array of predators, pathogens, and parasitoids finally up their game and reduce the burden these trees now bear.

Native Trees of Princeton

An attentive reader commented that the page for "Native Trees of Princeton", which I thought I had added along the top of the homepage, does not exist. Funny, I clicked on the "publish" button but the list of trees refused to publish, nor did it magically publish itself during the ensuing weeks when my mind was on other things. Maybe Googles ever more sophisticated software detected that it still needed work, which is to say it was a bit "drafty".

Here it is, nonetheless, published as a post rather than one of those enduring "pages" at the top of the blog. It was created as a step towards fleshing out, or foliating, a rather bare tree list we have on the Princeton Shade Tree Commission website.

My apologies to any native tree species not included here. Please speak up. Catalpas, we'll talk.

ATTRIBUTES OF SOME NATIVE TREES IN PRINCETON 

This is an extensive but informal list of native trees you may encounter in the wild or in your yard, with some description, based on ten years of observation. 

Acer negundo (box elder)--Grows wild. Not commonly planted. It's soft wood can provide good habitat for birds. Considered messy and not very well formed.

Acer rubrum (red maple)--A durable, very commonly planted street tree. Also common in the wild.

Acer saccharinum (silver maple)--Common in yards and in the wild. Not often intentionally planted. Has a reputation for dropping limbs, but performs well in many yards, providing an attractive, open shade.

Acer saccharum (sugar maple)--Less common, but a sturdy, attractive native.

Amelanchier canadensis (shadblow, shadbush, serviceberry, Juneberry)--A very small tree or large bush. White flowers early in spring, supposedly when the shad are surging up the Delaware. Berries edible, but frequently attacked by cedar apple rust, so don't get your hopes up. Even our resident catbirds were disappointed.

Asimina triloba (pawpaw)--Small tree, up to thirty feet. I heard there's a wild stand behind someone's house down across Carnegie Lake, and a substantial patch in a park over in Cranbury. Plant more than one to increase prospects for the often elusive fruit. They clone, so best planted where there's a little room to expand.

Betula lenta (cherry birch)--Grows wild along the Princeton ridge. Not commonly planted in yards.

Betula nigra (river birch)--Beautiful bark and form, frequently sold with three trunks.

Betula (paper and grey birches)--These species are more characteristic further north.

Carpinus caroliniana (blue beech, hornbeam, musclewood)--Common along the Princeton ridge. Not often intentionally planted.

Carya alba (mockernut hickory)

Carya cordiformis (bitternut, swamp hickory)

Carya ovata (shagbark hickory)--Hickories are common in the wild, but not frequently planted.

Castanea dentata (American chestnut)--Devastated by the imported chestnut blight in the early 20th century. Only a few small specimens persist in the wild. The disease does not kill the root, which then resprouts. Backcrossing has developed resistant native varieties with a small percentage of asian genes, e.g. 1/16th Chinese. Some of these 15/16th native trees have been planted in parks and preserves in Princeton in an effort to reestablish the species. A few chestnuts grow along streets in Princeton, but are either Chinese or Japanese. The nut husks are very large and prickly.

Celtis occidentalis (hackberry, sugarberry)--Sturdy native, infrequently seen in the wild, underutilized in planted landscapes. They line Walnut Street across from JW Middleschool.

Chionanthus virginicus (fringe tree)--Very attractive flowers. Small tree/large shrub. Some evidence in Ohio that it can be attacked by emerald ash borer, but more evidence is needed before deciding not to plant.

Cornus florida (flowering dogwood)--Attractive small tree, commonly planted, with berries that provide important nourishment for birds migrating south in the fall. Fairly common in the wild, but an imported fungus has cut back on its numbers. It can be harder to establish that the Korean dogwood, whose fruit are eaten by monkeys in its native Asia.

Crataegus crus-galli (cockspur hawthorn)--Attractive small tree. Rarely found in the wild. Underutilized in planted landscapes, perhaps because of thorns.

Diospyros virginiana (persimmon)--Attractive mid-sized tree. Females bear fruit, which may be appreciated or viewed as messy.

Fagus grandifolia var. caroliniana (beech)

Fagus grandifolia var. grandifolia (beech)--Beech trees are common in the wild along the Princeton ridge, but are seldom if ever planted.

Fraxinus americana (white ash)--Princeton's most common tree, soon to be decimated by the arrival of Emerald ash borer. Though typically encountered in second growth forest, it can grow to a towering height, with a few extraordinary specimens to be found on campus and in older neighborhoods. Planting ash is discouraged, since all ash species will soon be dependent on chemical injections for survival. Anyone owning an ash they wish to keep should get it treated, with emamectin being the most frequently recommended insecticide to inject into the trunk.

Fraxinus pennsylvanica (green ash)--Usually found in wetter conditions, and less attractively shaped, than the white ash. Same susceptibility to emerald ash borer.

Gleditsia triacanthos (honey locust)--The wild variety has thorns and is rarely encountered, perhaps because it was spread by now extinct megafauna. The unripe seed pods have a sweet, edible inner lining. One large specimen can be found near the old gas station at Princeton Shopping Center. Planted varieties, such as those at the new Dinky station and Hinds Plaza, have no thorns, and provide a pleasant, open shade. The tiny leaflets conveniently disappear back into the lawn in the fall.

Gymnocladus dioicus (Kentucky coffee tree)--A remarkable tree, rarely found in the wild, for reasons similar to honey locust. Its very large compound leaves emerge late in spring, and drop early in fall, making the tree ideal for planting on the south side of passive solar houses. They were used in the landscaping for the Dinky parking lot.

Hamamelis virginiana (witch hazel)--Attractive small tree/large shrub. The native species flowers in late autumn, while asian species flower in the spring.

Juglans cinerea (butternut)--Rarely seen. Some are hybrids. The native species has suffered from the introduction of a fungal disease. Efforts are underway to bring back the butternut in Princeton, in parks and nature preserves.

Juglans nigra (black walnut)--Common in some wild areas, and in some backyards. Rarely planted, due to large nuts and the juglone compound emitted by the roots, which can suppress growth of tomatoes and other plants.

Liquidambar styraciflua (sweet gum)--Sturdy, large tree, common in the wild and sometimes planted intentionally. The "gum balls" it drops can be a drawback for some.

Liriodendron tulipifera (tulip tree)--Fast growing, long-lived tree that can reach great size. Flowers tulip-like and attractive, but usually too high up to appreciate. Common in the wild, but not typically planted intentionally.

Magnolia virginiana (sweetbay, swampbay)--Small tree. Can have attractive flowers. Not typically planted along streets.

Morus rubra (red mulberry)--The white mulberry (M. alba, nonnative) is also found in Princeton. A small tree. Bears abundant, edible berries similar in appearance to blackberries. The berries can be messy, and the tree lacks an attractive form. Very tasty berries, though, if you can reach them.

Nyssa sylvatica (black gum, tupelo)--Beautiful fall color. Sporadically encountered in the wild. Long-lived, sturdy. Is becoming more frequently planted along streets.

Ostrya virginiana (ironwood, hophornbeam)--Small tree. Not common in the wild, nor in the landscape trade.

Oxydendrum arboreum (sourwood)--Small tree with bright red fall foliage. Craggy form. Underutilized; may not be well adapted for the nursery trade. More common in the wild further south. Several specimens in Princeton, including one next to the church across from the high school.

Platanus occidentalis (sycamore, plane-tree)--Can be confused with the London planetree, which is a hybrid between two species, one of which is P. occidentalis. Attractive, large tree, with highly ornamental bark. Its more susceptible to anthracnose than the hybrid.

Prunus pensylvanica (fire or pin cherry)

Prunus serotina (black cherry)--The native cherries are attractive mid-sized trees typically found in earlier successional forests. They nearly rival oaks in the diversity of insects they provide food for, and so are very important for food chains.

Quercus alba (white oak)--One of the most majestic trees. The white oak "family" (those with rounded lobes, such as white oak, swamp white oak, and willow oak) are less susceptible to bacterial leaf scorch than the red and pin oaks (pointed lobes).

Quercus bicolor (swamp white oak)--Sometimes planted along streets.

Quercus coccinea (scarlet oak)--Attractive, but less commonly planted.

Quercus palustris (pin oak)--Very common street tree in Princeton. Its lower branches characteristically angle downward and often die back. Many are being lost to bacterial leaf scorch, which causes gradual dieback.

Quercus phellos (willow oak)--More frequently planted than in the past. More common in states further south. Its narrow leaves can form an attractive mulch, somewhat like pine needles.

Quercus rubra (red oak)--Common tree in the wild and along streets. Susceptible to bacterial leaf scorch.

Quercus velutina (black oak)--Encountered in the wild. Less commonly planted than red oak.

Robinia pseudoacacia (black locust)--Native to the Appalachians. Widely planted and naturalized elsewhere. Its wood is resistant to decay, it has attractive flowers, and can achieve a very attractive form with dark, craggy limbs contrasting with the foliage. Can be invasive in some habitats, and can clone, sending up young shoots armed with thorns. But some specimens in Princeton front yards are beautifully formed and well behaved.

Salix nigra (black willow)--Fast growing. Sometimes planted in low areas in the belief that it will dry the soil out.

Sassafras albidum (sassafras)--Attractive tree, common in the wild. Can clone, which may be why it's not commonly planted.

Tilia americana (American linden, basswood)--Attractive. Underutilized. Sporadically encountered in the wild. Linden trees along streets are generally not the native species.

Ulmus americana (American elm)--Though the elm was hit hard across America by Dutch elm disease, Princeton varieties have shown considerable resistance, allowing specimens to perform well and provide shade for many years, even though they may eventually succumb.

Ulmus rubra (red elm, slippery elm)


Native Evergreen Trees:

Ilex opaca (American holly, Christmas holly)--Attractive native, sometimes used in yards. Can grow eventually to 30 feet or so.

Juniperus virginiana (eastern red cedar)--Small tree. Useful in some situations.

Pinus strobus (eastern white pine)--Not encountered in the wild unless in planted stands. Its native range is to the north of Princeton. Can get big, and tends to drop large branches during ice storms.

Butternut Redux--A New Generation Bears its First Crop

This has been a breakthrough year for those of us working to bring back the native butternut--a species laid low by an introduced canker disease.. 

Twelve years after I helped Bill Sachs collect one of the last known harvests of native butternuts in Princeton, the new generation has finally born a crop of its own. Butternuts, also called white walnuts, or Juglans cinerea, bear nuts similar in look to black walnuts, but are oval rather than round. 

Bill continued to harvest and plant butternuts from the TRI property for a couple more years, but that pair of trees was then lost, with one blown down and the other cut down, ironically as part of an environmental remediation of contaminated soil. Most of the other known specimens, solitary so unable to bear, at Herrontown Woods and Mountain Lakes, have since been lost as well, lending all the more importance to this new generation of trees, grown by Bill and planted around town. 

We planted multiple trees, for cross pollination purposes, at Mountain Lakes, Herrontown Woods, Harrison Street Park, and at the TRI property where the seeds had originally come from. 

The saplings needed to be caged, to protect them from the deer. I made the mistake of removing a cage when a tree was tall enough that the deer could no longer reach the leaves. Bucks proceeded to rub the bark off the trunk, reducing a promising tree to root sprouts. A post from a couple years ago tells of some of the persistence required to nurse a new generation towards maturity. Along with deer, the young butternuts have been in danger of being smothered by fast-growing Japanese honeysuckle and grape vines, and trees like sweetgums and mulberries that rise quickly to fill the sunny openings the young butternuts need to grow.  Gardening, even wild gardening with native species, teaches the necessity of followup. 

This year, the butternuts had to deal not only with the 17 year cicadas' heavy pruning, but also the expanding presence of spotted lanternflies. 

Adding to the young trees' burden were some galls, which Bill said were most likely caused by walnut leaf gall mites

But despite all of that, the long awaited flowering of this new generation was spotted in July, and a few nuts collected in fall that appear to be viable, offering hope of yet another generation to come.

This fall's harvest is mostly being planted to grow more trees. Bill plants the butternut seed "in tall pots to be kept outdoors for the winter. This has worked well in the past."

Here are some additional tidbits gleaned from correspondence with Bill. The "float test" is used to determine whether a nut is viable. If it floats in water, it lacks a viable seed inside. (Update: This is true if the nuts have just been gathered. Once they dry out, even viable nuts will float.)

Dehusking walnuts and butternuts:

"I don’t really know if it’s absolutely necessary to dehusk walnuts or butternuts before a float test, though I think it is prudent. If you have a lot of nuts the best way to dehusk them is to use an old cement mixer with rocks and water… since I don’t have an old cement mixer, I use a piece of ½ inch plywood about 18 in by 6 in. I put a butternut or walnut in the driveway or street, put the plywood on top and use my foot with pressure to roll the nut under the plywood. (Use gloves to handle the nuts if you don’t want to stain your hands.) The husk comes off pretty easily. Then I put the largely dehusked nuts in a bucket of water and use a still wire brush to complete the cleaning."

Identifying butternuts: "Butternut bark is characteristically a lighter gray with broader ridges than black walnut (but not always). Easier to tell for sure from a twig with a terminal and a few lateral buds. If you slit the twig, butternut will have a dark chocolate-colored, chambered pith, and the leaf scars typically have a hairy fringe (or mustache) along the upper margin. When the leaves are still on the tree the leaf rachis will be tomentose or pubescent (hairy). Not sure if this carries over to fallen leaves on the ground in the winter. Finally, butternut trees often have poor form. In contrast, black walnut has a buff-pink chambered pith, no hairy fringes along the top edge of the leaf scars and the rachis is smooth (among other differences)."

Some additional reading recommended: 

On butternut seed propagation/germination:

https://htirc.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/SeedPropagationProtocol.pdf

 

On butternut conservation:

https://www.extension.purdue.edu/extmedia/FNR/FNR-421-W.pdf

A Walk in Gulick Park

Thirty kids and adults, plus a dog or two, gathered on a beautiful spring afternoon this past Sunday for a walk through Gulick Park, a little known nature preserve in a part of Princeton out 27 that may once have been thought of as Kingston. The loop trail starts at the eastern deadend of Terhune Road, a road that changes name as it approaches Snowden Lane, then becomes a bike path before re-emerging as Terhune Road again over near Dodds Lane.

We found tadpoles in that there pond, which reportedly holds some water even in the drier depths of summer.

The paths through this lowland woods can be muddy after a rain, but had dried up nicely in preparation for our walk.

Some appeared skeptical as I, in my role as naturalist for the walk, demonstrated the craned-neck approach to identifying red maples, pointing towards their tiny red flowers high overhead. Other tree species spoke their names through their bark--the black "potato chip" bark of black cherry trees, the mottled, army fatigue bark of sycamores--or the downward slant of the many pin oaks' lower branches. The numerous eastern red cedars--the first trees to cast shade in the abandoned agricultural fields decades back--now hang on in the shade of the higher, deciduous trees that have since grown around them. A scattering of evergreen American hollies offered patches of green in a sea of winter's browns and grays.

Just to prove I wasn't pointing at phantoms, here's a closeup of the red maple flowers that give the high canopy of lowland woods a red tinge this time of year.

Ed Simon, who leads volunteer efforts to maintain the trails (no easy task given the tree-toppling storms of recent years), told stories of the park's past and present. Though he and others have removed most of the barbed wire from the woods, a few remnants still tell of a time when the Gulicks had a massive bull that would occasionally escape into the neighborhood.

The video camera on the right in the photo is being held by Kurt Tazelaar. He and Sally Curtis have been documenting many environmental events in town.

There was the requisite stream crossing to test our balance, beyond which we came upon the field of Christmas trees. It was interesting to hear that many of the spruce trees found in Princeton's parks, including those behind my house in Potts Park, got their start in this field. I pointed out the dried remains of purple-top grasses in the field, and the graceful broomsedge (actually a grass) that gives the field an attractive bronze hue.

Beyond this high fence is the land still owned by the Gulicks, whose family ownership extends back to Revolutionary War days. A part of their house facing Route 27 is said to extend back to the 1600s, when it served as an inn conveniently located halfway between Philadelphia and New York. Each 50 mile stretch was a days ride on horseback.

Near the fence was an impressive pile of firewood, which the Gulicks apparently sell as a means of satisfying the requirements of their farm easement.

Along the trails, where the sun gets in, are some fine stands of blackberry, with its ribbed stems, and wineberry, a non-native cane with fuzzy purplish stems that bear raspberry-like fruit. A number of hikers expressed interest in returning in summer for the harvest.

The walk was made possible through the organizational energies of Nicole Bergman. There's talk of an upcoming workday to clear some of the trails still blocked by fallen trees.

Comeback Chestnuts and Butternuts in Princeton

On the 7th day of the 7th month, when the Brits via Andy Murray came back after 77 years to reclaim the Wimbledon men's tennis title, I took a hike with arborist Bob Wells to see some of the comeback kids he had found along the Princeton Ridge, in the form of native chestnuts and butternuts. Bob had recently conducted a tree inventory for Princeton, completing the township portion that can then be merged with the borough's. Along the way, he found a chestnut and a couple butternuts--species that have been laid low by introduced diseases. The number of naturally occurring specimens known to still be growing in Princeton can be counted on one hand.

I found Bob sitting in the woods near Bunn Drive with his dog, Mongo. While waiting for me, he had counted 21 woody species around him, a testament to the Ridge's diversity. Multiple kinds of hickories, maples and oaks, a beech tree, ironwood, cherry, tulip poplar, black birch, sweetgum, two kinds of Viburnum, witchhazel--learn to identify trees and you'll never be alone in the woods.

One of the other species was a solitary American chestnut tree of 6 inch diameter,

its distinctive leaves backlit by the afternoon sun.

One branch appeared already to have succumbed to the blight that laid waste this once dominant species of the eastern forests. The species as a whole went underground, its roots surviving, sending up suckers that would in time be killed off by the blight. Bob wasn't sanguine about this particular tree's chances, but at least it's still there, a century since the species was stricken by imported disease, still growing towards the sun.

Our next stop was further up the road, where clearing for the new Westerly Road Church had left a tall, gangly butternut out in the open. Though the native butternut (Juglans cinerea), also known as white walnut, was never a dominant species, and Princeton is on the southern edge of its range, its numbers have been reduced still further by an imported fungus.

Bob double checked the book's description. Thirteen leaflets, positioned opposite and stalkless, fit well,

and the dark brown pith. The trunk being hollow, Bob wasn't too optimistic about this tree's longterm chances, either, but to find a survivor is always reason for hope.

Heading around the bend onto Herrontown Road, Bob pointed out the thinned out foliage of a number of ash trees. Ash dieback, ash decline, something's going on with Princeton's ashes, and not much is known about the cause. Thinking it might be the arrival of the Emerald Ash Borer, the Asian insect accidentally introduced into Michigan that has been devastating ash trees on its way east, Bob arranged to have some traps set in the area. Results were negative.

To know and love trees is to realize that we cannot take our forests for granted, that behind the facade of static green is a shifting drama of competition, predicted demise, potential comeback, and mystery as engaging on its time scale as any sport. People play negative or sometimes positive roles in this high-stakes game. The easy accident of introducing a new disease to America is followed by a very long and hard struggle to save the species that are then pushed to the brink.

Our last stop was Autumn Hill Reservation, where Bob led me to a healthy butternut back in the woods, with room in the canopy to grow. I thought I saw another some 100 feet further off the trail, with impenetrable brush impeding our effort to confirm.

The bark of a butternut has a distinctive weave to the ridges. As you can see they've been known to sport a green trail marker, though they receive less compensation than famous athletes with product logos attached.

A few days later, I showed these trees to local nut tree expert, Bill Sachs, who has been growing and reintroducing American chestnuts and butternuts in various Princeton parks. He had located three butternuts growing naturally in Princeton, two of which have since been lost--one to a chainsaw, the other to flood and wind. Bob's discoveries bring the number back to three, plus all the seedlings Bill has grown.

We loppered our way through the invasive brush to reach what I had thought was an additional butternut 100 feet off the trail. A closer look proved it to be a black walnut.

Butternuts need more than one tree in order to bear nuts. The hope is that these few survivors have some level of resistance to the attacking fungi, and if we can start new groupings of these trees that will then bear seeds, these species can be coaxed back from the brink, to take their rightful place in Princeton's future.