Pipeline Right of Way's Impact on Habitat

Many of us have been mildly aware of the transcontinental natural gas pipeline that runs through Princeton. We cross it most every day, on Route 206 just up from the Ewing intersection, as well as on Bunn Drive, the Great Road, Cherry Hill Road, and other roads that traverse the high, boulder-strewn ground of the Princeton Ridge. (More info on the issue and the April 11 public meeting on the proposed expansion at the following links: 1) meeting and background, 2) opinion piece comparing regulation of tobacco and fossil fuels). 

The pipeline also cuts through Mountain Lakes, Herrontown Woods and other natural areas. Though a matrix of woodland and field can provide more diverse habitat for plants and wildlife, a linear swath cut through forest has the unfortunate effect of providing access into the forest for catbirds, which lay their eggs in other bird species' nests and therefore reduce the survival chances of bird species that need deep forest habitat.

The usefulness of these herbaceous right of ways, which are mowed annually, for grassland birds is limited. My understanding is that many grassland bird species shy away from meadows that have trees close by, where predators like hawks can perch and survey the ground. Even the fields at Tusculum, between Mountain Lakes and Cherry Hill Road, may not be large enough for some of the grassland birds.

Pipeline right of ways also promote the spread of invasive plant species such as the Phragmitis (shown) and Korean bush clover, which tend to take over and exclude native plants that wildlife depend on. Even if these species aren't planted intentionally, their seeds can spread from one right of way to another on the wheels of maintenance vehicles. Korean bush clover, also called Sericea lespedeza (Lespedeza cuneata), is a classic case of an exotic species that was promoted as a wildlife food, but whose small, abundant seeds were later found to pass through birds, undigested. The species has been widely used for erosion control, but its invasiveness and lack of utility for wildlife means that one environmental goal (reduced sedimentation in waterways) is achieved at the expense of another (habitat and biodiversity).

Since the pressure to build and expand right of ways, for electrical transmission as well as pipelines, is going to increase over time, it would make sense to manage them for native grassland, so at least they would provide a haven for herbaceous species that get shaded out elsewhere. It's a matter of making sure the plant lists used for revegetating these right of ways is the right mix of native species, and also providing early intervention to prevent highly invasive exotic species from getting established and spreading. Getting these concerns on the list of priorities for industry, and government regulators, is a challenge.

A Report of Dead Fish in the DR Canal

A friend emailed me this past Saturday about an accumulation of dead fish in the DR Canal near Alexander Street. I went down and took this photo, focused on the fish, not even noticing the beauty of the reflections until later opening the photo on the computer. There may have been twenty fish, total, perhaps suckers. Hard to guess at the cause.

Some Upcoming Events

Some talks, some walks. Follow links for more info.

TALK AT DR GREENWAY: DR Greenway's great series of talks continues tomorrow with Professor Ken Hiltner (we haven't figured out any shared lineage yet), Thursday, April 4, 2013, 7:00 - 8:30pm at the Johnson Education Center. The talk is entitled "From Shakespeare's London to Urban Gardening -- The Literature of Humans' Relationship with the Land" 

NATURE WALK: I will be leading a walk at Gulick Park/Preserve this Sunday, April 7, at 1pm. It's being organized by the neighbors of the park, but all are welcome to come. Gulick Farm dates back to the 1600s. Here's more info: "We will meet at the entrance to Gulick Park at 1pm on Sunday, March 10. The entrance is at the eastern dead-end of Terhune Road (east of Concord). The walk will probably take a little over an hour. It could be a bit muddy, so make sure to dress appropriately.  All ages are welcome."

COURSE ON MANAGING WATER IN THE LANDSCAPE--There are a few open spots in the course I'm teaching at the Princeton Adult School, starting with an introductory talk Thursday evening, April 11, followed by four Sunday afternoon field trips to examples of how runoff is being utilized aesthetically and ecologically in public areas and backyards.

ECO-CONFERENCE Our Future, Our Challenge: Student Eco-Conference 2013 , May 4, 9-1p, at Princeton Day School. Includes talks by David Crane, CEO of NRG: "Are the economy and sustainability compatible?", and Heidi Cullen of Climate Central, plus workshops on foraging, chickens, bees, and organic farming

CLIMATE CHANGE PROGRAM: Two speakers with "inside scoop" on legislation to address climate change. April 7, 1pm, Unitarian Church

REGISTER SUPPORT FOR CITIZENS CLIMATE LOBBY--There's a quick way to register support for this group, which has a local chapter. No obligation to donate. Registering helps them in applications for funding. Took me about a minute. Here are instructions:

                 1.  Go to The Citizens Climate Lobby home page, and in the upper right corner find the DONATE or REGISTER SUPPORT box or button. Click on that.

 

                  2. That takes you to a second page, where down in the main text, the third option is REGISTER AS A SUPPORTER OF OUR CAUSE. Click on that.

                   3. That takes you to the sign up page.  Please fill out and submit.

Chickens at Princeton Day School

Many a happy hen resides next to the Princeton Day School gardens, across the Great Road from Coventry Farm. I visited them last week during the Bryn Mawr book sale,

where Princetonians were exhibiting flocking behavior in the PDS gymnasium, gleaning books to feed the mind, or at least to have a new lease on life on a new bookshelf.

The coop is located behind the playground next to the parking lot. I've been told that the kids love the chickens, which are used for educational purposes as well as food for the cafeteria. Only high schoolers are allowed to take care of them.

There are many versions of coop available at local farm supply stores like Rosedale Mills or Belle Meade Coop, though their price tag can sometimes motivate people to build their own. This coop's design has a very convenient door for collecting the eggs, and a tray underneath the inside roost, where most of the chicken droppings can easily be removed.

Early on, a fox found a hole in the caged portion and wiped out the whole flock. Though traumatic, the incident was used as an educational opportunity. Students came up with a better design for the chicken run.

Just past the chicken coop is an impressive retention basin where runoff--probably from the PDS parking lot--collects after a storm. Most developments in the Princeton area have these. Typically, such basins are mowed weekly, and the stormwater is allowed to run out so quickly it has no time to seep in. The result is a nearly useless expanse of turf.

At PDS, the basin is allowed to grow up as a meadow, then mowed once yearly. This is more attractive, easier to maintain, and makes better wildlife habitat. Unmowed vegetation has deeper root systems than turfgrass, which makes for a more porous soil that allows more runoff to percolate down to feed the groundwater. I don't know the story of Kristy Manning, for whom the meadow is named, but its a beautiful thing to have one's name attached to a well-maintained meadow that feeds both wildlife and the groundwater.

Food's already growing in the school garden nearby,

with spinach taking the lead.


PDS will host a conference on all of these installations May 4:   ECO-CONFERENCE Our Future, Our Challenge: Student Eco-Conference 2013 , May 4, 9-1p, at Princeton Day School. Includes talks by David Crane, CEO of NRG: "Are the economy and sustainability compatible?", and Heidi Cullen of Climate Central, plus workshops on foraging, chickens, bees, and organic farming

My discussions with Princeton's animal control officer and the mayor suggest that the public schools, in addition to their gardens, could also have chicken coops if there is sufficient parent and teacher interest.

Butterflies in and around Mexico City--a Princeton Connection?

Though I had hoped to visit the mountain range several hours west of Mexico City where our Monarch butterflies overwinter, I had to settle for a few sightings of tiger swallowtails in the city, along with this collection of butterflies suspended above Freda Kahlo's bed.

(Her other bed in the next room has a mirror above it, placed there when she was bedridden for a year, which might explain how she got interested in painting self-portraits.)

On the flight home, the United Airlines "Hemispheres" magazine featured an article on the Monarch butterflies. The article documents the struggle to save the mountain habitat for the Monarchs, particularly the efforts of the World Wildlife Fund to help locals develop income from tourism so that they don't need to keep cutting down the forest to make a living.

That effort has been successful, the mountain habitat is now protected and on the mend, but now the Monarchs' incredible annual journey is threatened by industrial farm practices in the U.S., and the human-caused climate change that is very rapidly altering the timing for the long migration, and increasing the likelihood of extreme weather like droughts.

The situation points out how even heroic efforts to restore habitat are vulnerable to being trumped by the rapid changes being wrought globally to our atmosphere and oceans. If hardships during the 2000 mile migration reduce the number of Monarchs that make it back to their overwintering site in the fall, fewer tourists will make the pilgrimage to see them, which will then undermine the sustaining tourist economy in the Bioreserve and prompt the locals to return to cutting trees down for a living.

The Monarch's precarious situation also points out the cumulative impact of multiple stressors. An overwintering habitat reduced by logging over the years from 50 acres down to 3; the loss of hedgerows and the introduction of Roundup Ready corn and soybeans in the midwest that allows farmers to kill all the "weeds" that used to provide food and breeding grounds for the migrating butterflies; the increasing extremes of weather. All of these conspire, and for those (probably not readers of these posts!) who don't care much about butterflies, the same cumulative environmental stresses can play out on human economies as well.

If one's looking for something empowering in this less than sanguine state of affairs, consider this. It may be that, as rural areas become less supportive of the migrating Monarchs, residential communities will become more and more important. Towns have the water infrastructure to sustain landscapes in deep droughts. A plentiful supply of nectar and milkweed plants in urban areas could keep the Monarchs and many other species going. It's mind-expanding to think that our work here in Princeton and in other towns across the nation could have consequence for a small mountain community in Mexico, and for sustaining an ancient miracle. (In the photo, a Monarch caterpillar feeds on swamp milkweed planted at Mountain Lakes Preserve.)

Other related posts can be found by typing the word Monarch into the search box at the top of this page. An example is "Native plants feed the needy next to Mountain Lakes."

When Gardens Crawl Up a Wall

Someone left a bike unlocked,

in the middle of a garden.

But I doubt that anyone will steal it,

being suspended twenty feet up,

on the side of a wall,

that serves as a backdrop for a restaurant a few blocks away from the Zocolo in Mexico City.

The plants on the wall grow in little pockets of felt-like fabric,

that look like an extension of this much older approach of putting ceramic pots on a wall.

The swirly patterns of the wall garden are reminiscent of these swirls of boxwood that serve as a pruned understory in a mini-forest in a Coyoacan plaza,

and this traditional motif on a wall along a narrow street that leads to the plaza.

A post from 2009 about a similar garden in Madrid can be found at this link.

Jacaranda in Mexico City

Sometimes a tree fills an architectural space perfectly, as with this Jacaranda tree in a courtyard near an open market in the San Angel neighborhood of Mexico City. In the same family as our catalpa trees (Bignoniaceae), it dotted city vistas with lavender during last week's visit.

I first encountered Jacarandas (the "J" sounds like "h", and each "a" sounds like ahhh) in Buenos Aires, where their dark branches twist and turn high above, silhouetted against the highly dissected foliage. There's an aphid that lives on the trees, excreting honeydew that can feel like very light raindrops to pedestrians below. I never noticed this sort of precipitation, but it could make for an interesting effect for any diner in this plaza who strays beyond the cover of the umbrellas.

(A previous post entitled "Atrium Honeydew Sleuth" documents a similar phenomenon in the Princeton Professional Park on Ewing Street, which features indoors many of the plants growing outdoors in Mexico City. The honeydew there doesn't fall on the walkway, and in fact offers reassurance that the office management isn't using toxic sprays to control bugs.)

In the Coyoacan area of Mexico City, the Jacaranda flowers greeted us in the courtyard of the bed and breakfast.

Our catalpas have a white version of this flower. Native to Central and South America, Jacarandas have been planted elsewhere in the world, including Florida and the southwest.

In the Viveros of Coyoacan--a large tree nursery that also serves as a jogging mecca much like New York's Central Park--one of the trails is named after the tree, though I didn't find the glorious corridor of color I had imagined.

Sometimes you have to go up on a rooftop, in the more utilitarian company of water heaters, clotheslines and water storage tanks, to see Jacarandas much better.

Trotsky's Chickens

During a recent visit to Coyoacan, a historic neighborhood in southern Mexico City that once served as Cortez's home base, we passed by the long lines at Freda Kahlo's house and walked a few extra blocks to check out the walled-in house and courtyard of another historic figure, Leon Trotsky. The Russian revolutionary spent the last three years of his life in exile in Mexico, where he was granted asylum at the behest of Diego Rivera.

Turns out he raised chickens and rabbits, which he spent the first hour or so of every day caring for. The physical work and interaction with the animals "provided rest to his spirit and distracted him", but it also may have helped stimulate his thinking: "Sometimes he interrupted his labour to dictate a thought, an idea that had arrived to his mind while he was doing this work."

That connection between hand and mind, manual work and intellect, is one of the rewards of not outsourcing all manual work, and exploring which aspects of lifestyle are worth adopting from past eras when machines were less ubiquitous.

Raising chickens and rabbits may also have helped him survive increasing seclusion, given that the danger of attack by an agent of Stalin made any venturing outside the walls of his compound risky. His falling out with Stalin led to his exile, and the assassination of nearly all of his family members, including finally himself when a Stalin agent penetrated Trotsky's inner circle in 1940.

Trotsky was also in to cacti, which he had dug up from surrounding hillsides that surely have long since been engulfed by urban growth.

Afterwards, we waited out the lines at Freda Kahlo's house, and found therein, tinged with rant, her expression of connection with people who use their hands to make a living.

Backyard Ducks

Life is pretty good for the backyard ducks these days. The miniponds are swelled by recent rains, and the ducks' owners have given them some quality frolic time out of the coop they share with the chickens.

Much as the chickens' showed us how much a backyard could be loved, with their infinite interest in the ground and the bugs and seeds it might hold, so the ducks have shown us what it means to really love water. Using their heads to toss water on their backs, diving, dipping or suddenly launching into a session of joyous thrashing, they revivify all those old expressions about ducks and water. It's easy to believe that they are fish at heart, who maintain wings and feet as backup options.

They don't so much drink water as maintain a current of water through their bodies. This makes them a bit messy in their cohabitation with chickens, which are by comparison much more land-based and clean.

Whereas chickens peck with precision, ducks gobble, especially the big, wobbly Pekin duck on the left, which sends food flying with its gourmandering.

The runner duck, by contrast, is a more graceful and delicate creature, holding its head high and steady like a ballet dancer as it walks. We had had good success with taking it for a walk in Herrontown Woods two months ago, so decided to try it again.

In the interim, however, the duck (Molly) had developed a mind of her own. Rather than following along with us, she immediately set off for the nearest creek.

 Fortunately, we found an abandoned dog leash on the trail, which helped keep the duck heading our way. Up at the Veblen farmstead, we walked by snowdrops planted either by Elizabeth Veblen or as part of a Garden Club of Princeton project some 40 years ago.

Hurricane Sandy has made lots of miniponds in the forest, where wild and somewhat tame life can stop and take a sip.

And so this unexpected life with ducks continues,

in ponds small and smaller

while bigger, bolder birds of a similar feather take up similarly unlikely residence in the broader Princeton landscape.

Monarchs Had Tough Year in 2012

Here's a disturbing headline for you: "Monarch Migration Plunges to Lowest Level in Decades". The New York Times article reports that the overwintering grounds for monarch butterflies in Mexico has dwindled to 2.94 acres. A number of factors are at play here. Increasingly erratic weather due to changing climate, the switch to herbicide-resistant crops in the midwest, which allows eradication of weeds that used to serve as food and habitat, and past logging of the high altitude forests in Mexico.

The warm weather last year sped the Monarchs' travel northward, which correlates with my memory of seeing them in Princeton last summer much earlier than usual. Their multi-generational travel northward in spring/summer is timed with the milkweed, so any change in schedule can affect whether the habitat is ready for their arrival.

In preparation for an upcoming trip, I was surprised to learn that the biosphere reserve where the Monarchs overwinter is  just a couple hours west of Mexico City. There are several locations where one can hike up to see them, though El Rosario is the easiest to access. Given the multiple locations, it's strange to hear that the total acreage occupied by the overwintering butterflies is less than three acres.

Though the butterflies cling to the tree branches at night, in February they become active during the day, flying down the mountain slope to a water source, then back up in the evening to roost overnight. Tourists typically stay over night in the small mountain town of Angangueo, then head to the overwintering sites in the morning. Having remained sexually immature during their long fall migration to Mexico, and through much of the winter, the Monarchs finally mate just prior to heading north in late March.

As farm country becomes increasingly an ecological desert, due to reduction in fallow areas and increased spraying of weeds, urban areas become all the more important for sustaining species like the Monarch. Looks like starting new plants of the local swamp milkweed will be part of my "managing water in the landscape" course at the Princeton Adult School this spring.

Carolyn Edelmann, who has a far-ranging nature blog, sent me this link to a 6 minute video about the Monarchs' migration and overwintering site.

Talk on Oswald Veblen and Institute Woods, March 21

Oswald Veblen is a heroic character from Princeton's past. You can read more about him at my website, VeblenHouse.org.

George Dyson, author of Turing's Cathedral: The Origins of the Digital Universe, will give a talk entitled "Princeton's Christopher Robin - Oswald Veblen and the Six-Hundred-Acre Woods".

It was the third chapter of Dyson's book on Turing, wherein Veblen's life and contributions to early computer development are described, that showed how deep is the legacy Veblen left behind, and made all the more clear why the house the Veblens left in the public trust should be saved and turned into a nature center, as they had desired.

The talk will detail how Veblen's vision and initiative led to the Institute for Advanced Study acquiring some 600 acres of greenspace back in 1930s, setting the stage for later preservation efforts that led to saving the land from development. From a DR Greenway email: "Growing up in these woods, Dyson is in a unique position to recount its journey to preservation. Owned first by William Penn, then  finally to the Institute, Dyson declares, 'Veblen put the fractured pieces back together.'"

The talk is on Thursday, March 21, 2013, 7:00 - 8:30pm at the DR Greenway's Johnson Education Center. More info at http://drgreenway.org/public_programs.htm.

Maiden Grass (Miscanthus sinensis)

Back in October, Maiden Grass was in its glory. Native to Japan, it was popularized in the U.S. in large part by Washington, D.C.-based landscape architects Wolfgang Oehme and Jim van Sweden. They promoted a new kind of landscaping dominated by ornamental grasses mixed with perennials like Joe-Pye-Weed and Sedum "Autumn Joy".

Like cabbage, which was bred to make kohlrabi, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, etc., Maiden Grass is the same species (Miscanthus sinensis) as the less frequently seen zebra grass and porcupine grass.

After publishing their book on this new approach to landscaping, Oehme and van Sweden went on a speaking tour. I remember their presentation at the University of Michigan, probably back in the 1980s. During question and answer, one member of the audience, after seeing photos of giant exotic grasses planted next to a native wet meadow, asked if there was any concern about the grasses becoming invasive. The authors claimed not.

Since then, I've kept my eye out for instances where these robust, beautiful grasses have turned invasive. In most cases they have not, but I remember a field outside of Providence, Rhode Island filled with them. And though they haven't spread in the NC piedmont, they have become highly invasive on and around Mitchell Mountain, which is a slightly higher altitude and may have different soil type.

There aren't any dramatic examples of invasion in the Princeton area that I know of, but on the road from Princeton to Lambertville I noticed a couple of them apparently self-seeded in a field. In this photo, you can see how the Maiden Grass (two specimens in the back) dwarf the native bluestems (same tawny color) closer to the road.

If Maiden Grass eventually does become invasive, the same robust qualities that make it attractive in the landscape will cause it to outcompete the native grasses, many of which are necessary food sources for insect species that typically don't consume exotics even if abundant.

For this reason, and a desire to focus on natives, I stopped planting Maiden Grass. Some native grasses that have been bred for form and beauty are many varieties of switch grass, and purple muhly (Muhlenbergia capillaris). River oats is another ornamental native, though it can sometimes start seeding in aggressively in the flower bed. You may see the native prairie grasses Indian Grass, Big Bluestem and Little Bluestem growing in fields around Princeton. The first two are tall and attractive in masses, but tend to flop a bit if one tries to use them in an ornamental context. Little Bluestem is shorter, keeps its shape better, and has a delicate beauty to it.

Honey Locust Thorns and the Missing Megafauna

Why is this honey locust on Snowden Lane so bristly? The very nasty thorns once protected the tree from giant ground sloths and other megafauna common in America until about 13,000 years ago. Other trees with thorns that may once have served such a purpose are Osage-orange and hawthorn.

The extinction of some 40 megafauna species in the late Pleistocene may help explain why tree species like Kentucky coffeetree and Osage-orange are now rare. The animals that once ate and dispersed their fruit no longer exist.

An internet search led to a wonderful article on native trees adapted to giant mammals that no longer exist, likely due to overhunting by the first human immigrants to America. My pet theory is that the first American inhabitants, after driving many large prey species to extinction, learned to be better stewards of the land. Arrival of westerners precipitated a similar predatory overstepping and wave of extinctions, such as the passenger pigeon and the Carolina parakeet, followed by at least a partial shift towards better stewardship.

The article quotes Dan Janzen, now of U. of Pennsylvania, who gave riveting lectures about the symbiotic relationship between ants and acacia trees in Africa, during my college days at U. of Michigan.

Rogers Refuge--Woodcocks and Wood Ducks

Woodcocks are curious looking birds with long beak and stubby body. This time of year, they are doing their mating displays in open fields around Princeton. Here's a report from Winnie Spar, a birder who helps care for the Rogers Refuge--the marsh between the Institute Woods and the Stony Brook (map):  March 4: "Despite rather cool temperatures, I went over to the Refuge at dusk this evening and found one peenting and twittering woodcock in the lower marsh across from the main platform. This is the same date on which Fred and I first discovered displaying woodcocks in the marsh last year."

Here's a previous post about seeing woodcocks in Princeton, which links to an NPR segment on them.

Wood Ducks: At the showing of the Duckumentary, which begins with baby wood ducks jumping out of their nest, 70 feet up in a tree, and landing softly in the leaves, Charles Leck said wood ducks return in late March and the newborns begin jumping out of holes in trees at Rogers Refuge from about May 10-15. That would be something to see.

If you're unfamiliar with Rogers Refuge, it's a premier birdwatching site in the floodplain of the StonyBrook, accessible via West Drive, which intersects with Alexander just before you reach the canal. I researched and wrote an ecological assessment and stewardship plan for the refuge some years back. The marsh is kept wet in summer with the help of water pumped from the Stony Brook. The land is owned by the water company, town staff maintain the pump, and the Friends of Rogers Refuge keep an eye on the refuge and have installed viewing towers, a bird blind, and bird houses. A nice cooperative venture.

Other notes from Charles Leck's Q and A:

• Ducks mate for a year. Geese mate for life, and hang around for a day if their mate dies. 
• He's noticed a ten to fourteen day shift in duck migrations over the years, as the planet warms.
• Hurricane Sandy devastated coastal lakes like Lake Como in New Jersey. The lakes are important duck habitat. 
• Parting quote: "Never throw a planet away. You just don't know when you're going to need it."

Cold Cabbage

A crop of cold cabbage grows, or waits, in a stone-lined front yard garden. Which takes me back to 1977, the Ann Arbor Film Festival, and a 2 minute video that stuck in memory, Cold Cows. It's a silent short, starring a cow, despairing of life in a cold pasture.

At the Environmental Humanities in a Changing World conference, yesterday and today at Princeton University, John Grim spoke of The Winter Dance, an American Indian ritual that uses music and dance to lift the malaise of late winter and "carry the people through".

That must be what I did a week ago to break a bad case of cabin fever, combining Brazilian music of Airto and Flora Purim with a dance style somewhere between Steve Martin and Steve Carell. Not sure it will become a widespread cultural tradition, but it works.

Sadly, cabbages and cows do not have this option for renewing the spirit.