Month: October 2019

During my hour-long visit to my phenology site in Centennial Woods, I was able to hear (and occasionally see) some of the organisms nearby. At the beginning of my visit, I was able to identify a black-throated bird with a brownish white underbelly. From my previous visit I was able to identify this as a Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus). Additionally, I spotted a blue bird with a white fringe along the bottom of its tail fly across the field; it was likely a Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata) but it was too far away for me to tell for sure. Briefly, I viewed a bird with a silhouette similar to what is drawn in my field notes; my drawing and observation skills are too underdeveloped to identify the exact type of bird, but it was likely from the Order Falconiformes. As heard in the audio sample, there was another bird which I did not see that made a call I have not heard on previous visits to my site and I can only say the call’s owner belongs in Phylum Chordata. I also heard a rubbing sound that presumably came from an organism in Subphylum Hexapoda or at least in Phylum Arthropoda. I also befriended a Clover Mite (Bryobia praetiosa) who crawled around on my hand and journal for quite some time. At the fallen log which intersects the trail at one point (seen on the included map), I noticed some holes bored into the rotting, wet wood. I am unsure if these marks were left by a chordate or an insect. Due to the number of Black-capped Chickadees I have seen during my visits, I would imagine that these birds are often found in Centennial Woods, perhaps year-round. Birds might be quite active in Centennial Woods (and thus around my phenology site) at this time of year because they are finding, consuming, and/or storing food to prepare for overwintering or migrating. Other insects and arthropods might be out looking for food as well as mates at this time of year. This would explain the distinct rubbing in the included audio clip as well as the general hum of a collection of insects (or arthropods presumably) in the field adjacent to my phenology place. 

Since my previous visit, the generally needle-covered ground has become more littered with fallen leaves, especially those from birches, oaks, and maples. The Norway Maple to my left (as I look out upon the field) still hangs onto its leaves, although they are yellow-green to orange-yellow now (they were very green during my last visit). The leaves still attached to the oak trees are yellow-brown and red. The low undergrowth (ferns and grasses) are still green and show no signs of yellowing; some of the shrubby undergrowth bears green leaves while others completely lack leaves. Of particular note, the Barberry bushes, which are quite plentiful in this area, are displaying leaves in shades of red, orange, and yellow. In the field, the grasses are mostly yellow and brown, showing little of the green seen in prior visits.  

As previously noted, the field, which was more apparently wet during this visit, is lower in elevation relative to the surrounding upward slopes on the east and west. In the north and the south, the land seems more low-lying; perhaps this provides a channel/direction for water to flow. The soil in the spot upon which I sat was damp. The needles that littered the ground likely promote an acidic soil, but there are also many leaves from deciduous trees that contribute to the organic layer of the soil and may influence pH too.  

Mapping this site, which from now on I will call the Projection, proved difficult – it’s hard to capture a bird’s-eye view from the ground – but it did provoke me to take a look at the more static aspects of my surroundings, such as some significant dead trees and stumps. It was also enlightening to assess the topography of the area surrounding the Projection; it gave me an idea of where and how water might flow (or not flow) in and out of the area. I wonder what processes created this distinct geographic outcrop… 

About 0.29 miles along the trail head of the path through Centennial Woods off of Catamount Drive, there lies a projection of elevated land (a peninsula or plateau if you will) extending into a field in the middle of the woods. In journeying to this spot, one may cross Centennial Brook, but that depends on the path one chooses. There is a comfort in knowing that many paths can ultimately lead to the same place. This projection is forested, but just beyond the extent of the woods one finds themselves in a dry field full of grasses and cattails. However, from the peninsula one may feel sheltered by the surrounding forest despite the proximity of the expansive field and the walking trail (which lies directly behind a visitor if they face the field). The end of the projection is bulb-like, providing a circular platform upon which one may sit upon damp earth, observe, listen, and think. The plateau is essentially bare of trees and vegetation and is covered in pine needles; it is obvious where past observers have tread to reach this location. Whether the plateau was cleared on purpose or naturally is unknown, but the location feels central, as if it were made for an interaction between humans and nature. After a long enough period of time, movement occurs about the static observer accompanied by the chirps and cries from the abundance of birds in the area. On an overcast and windy day, such as it was on Sunday, October 6th, 2019, towering trees protected the organisms and the accompanying observer from the winds, which could be heard whooshing above; even in the field, the winds were assuaged by the trees which encircled it. Whether these noises were carried by wind or were simply nearby, one could also hear the cars presumably traveling along Interstate 89. In this location, halfway between the main trail and seldom-trotted ground, the songs of birds stood out against the acoustic retorts of mechanization and civilization. This pulled the observer between two worlds, or perhaps serves as a demonstration of the inseparability of humans from nature, and vice versa.  Below is the field journal from this visit along with images of the field notes and the location itself. 

6 October 2019 1327-1405 

Centennial Woods, Burlington, Chittenden Co., Vermont 

From the trail head of Centennial Woods, I walked 0.29 miles along the trail bearing left at every intersection until I reached a forested projection into a field on my right. This is where I made my observations at 272 ft in elevation.  

Weather: Overcast, windy, 54°F 

Habitats: A downward sloping, forested hill eventually giving way to a field then turning back into forest and sloping upward.  

Vegetation: In the forest, wood ferns and grass were dominant along the needle-covered floor which bore few leaves. The canopy primarily consisted of coniferous trees with some deciduous trees such as Norway Maples and Paper Birches; these deciduous trees still bear green leaves although some of the maple leaves are beginning to turn orange. Barberry and other smaller shrubs persisted in this area too. The field was mostly grass, with Cattails and Joe-Pye Weeds dominant among the taller vegetation. Some of the older Cattails were brown-leaved and lacked their brown furry structure.  

General Commentary: Insect activity was nominal or unobserved. Mammal activity was nominal or unobserved. Avian activity was plentiful, though mostly went unobserved. During the observational period, a presumably large bird gave long, sharp, high cries across the field (outside the range of visual observation). I observed at least three birds with black heads and throats, white necks, and grey bodies – these were identified as Black-capped Chickadees; their throaty “dee” call and sharp tweets could be heard. I also observed a woodpecker of the genus Dryobates pecking on primarily coniferous tree branches it seemed. The bird had a black head, white underbelly/body, and a patchwork of grey, black, brown, and white on its back. This bird gave short, clear tweets.  

Species List:  

Plants: 

Eutrochium 

Typha 

Dryopteris 

Birds: 

Poecile atricapillus 

Dryobates  

Mammals: None observed 

Insects: None observed