* = landmarks!

Flora and Fauna since last time:

I picked a great day for my last phenology site- though it was cloudy in the morning, the sky cleared to a solid blue by 3, when I went. I had expected to find a spring green, blossoming site, judging by the tiny bright leaves and flowers that had broken out in the trees downtown and along my walk to my site. It wasn’t quite as springy as I imagine, none of the tall trees at the site wearing any more than buds except the tall Basswood*: most of the greenery was in the form of low-to-the-ground plants and the younger trees. I identified a few species I hadn’t noted back in the fall, before I knew any ID, by their fresh leaves: honeysuckle, Japanese barberry, a young boxelder, a little plum tree by the red and sugar maples; three were some vines and a couple ground cover plants I couldn’t identify.

The new burrow* I spotted last time has a new exit (entrance?). Since our trip for the Bioblitz, I downloaded Merlin, and I hoped to track some of the elusive birds on site- I knew they were around by their nests, but never got a good look. There’s some kind of construction going on in the facility nearby, so there was rarely a silence long enough to get a good read, but Merlin did make out a Red-winged Blackbird chirp from the nests in the Eastern Pine* and an American Goldfinch somewhere in the area too, though I couldn’t spot a nest.

The changes over the past year have been minimal, besides the expected phenological ones. The snags and fallen log* by the pines might be a little more decomposed, and the stand of young basswoods* a little taller. There’s things going on all around, the golf course in and out of use on the right and the UVM facility on the left undergoing construction, but this little natural corridor remains reliable.

Ecological status:

Very satisfyingly, an ongoing site mystery has been solved: the oil blotches I saw every single visit in the marshy area are because there’s a buried natural gas line running under the area! These little yellow flags that said so line the road up to the trail, and I almost didn’t notice them on my way out- I swear, I either missed them completely in the past or they had just put them out. That makes sense as to why it always seems to be there, despite the trail being used only by pedestrians with their dogs or the occasional bike. It is pretty alarming though, that oil is visibly seeping out and into the marsh, and I wonder how it might affect the nearby plants and animals that may drink from there. Another thing I’d noticed after doing our McKenzie Park restoration assignment were how that access road must be the reason the trail entrance is always so muddy- the water from that little marsh system doesn’t drain all the way through to the grassy area on the other side of the road.

My place and I:

This site has it’s problems, but after spending the entire school year visiting it, I’ve grown to care about it and I know I’ll be coming back just to check out how things might change in the future. It’s been nice to have a place to go and really take the time to observe, and somewhere I could practice the skills I’ve been learning throughout the year- it feels as familiar as my backyard at home now- or even moreso, since I haven’t ID’d every species at home and seen them change through the year. I may be hours away at school, but I’ve gotten to know a handful of spots well that I can go to and feel welcomed and comfortable, and this place is one of them. Even if everyone passing through isn’t standing on the path observing and recording species and phenological changes, I know it’s appreciated: almost each time I would come their would be people walking their dogs, or old women chatting as they stroll through in this safe alley between the golf course and academic building towards a residential area. Animal’s aren’t the only ones who value a wildlife corridor, we as people use them all the time, and I’m grateful for this one.

A group of friends and I dedicated most of yesterday (4/27) to exploring Burlington and logging observations in iNaturalist. We covered all of Rock Point and part of North Beach, as well as logging urban nature in Downtown Burlington. It was a lovely day, pretty warm even with the clouds and wind, and we were all glad to get outside with the excuse of working on an assignment in our busy schedules of the last couple of weeks of school.

We divided and conquered: I logged the plants (trees, shrubs, and flowers, many having started blooming in the past few days), one friend the signs of animals (mostly dogs), and a third the birds we saw and heard. I was very impressed with iNaturalist’s ability to pretty accurately suggest potential species identifications, having limited knowledge myself of anything but the focal tree and mammal species we’d covered in class. From the suggestions, I was able to easily narrow it down to one species by the details I observed (ex. sharp vs. rounded petals). The same goes for Merlin, the bird identification app, which my friend had downloaded- it was able to pick up the most distant twitters I hadn’t even noticed. Between the 3 of us, we logged 27 species of birds, trees, flowering plants, ferns/shrubs, and land-dwelling wildlife. My favorite flower we spotted that I was unfamiliar with was the Yellow Trout Lily, which grew in beds of interestingly patterned leaves and yellow blossoms (pictured below!).

Looking at City Nature Challenge iNaturalist databases in other participating cities, I was blown away by just how many submissions there were- 77,642, last I checked. I hadn’t even thought to log the bugs I encountered, and there were a few, but there were plenty of bugs in the database. The bulk of submissions does seem to be plants, a good amount being flowers due to their charismatic nature I assume. It was also much harder to capture clear photos of animals and bugs, which probably contribute to how many of each family are logged: it would be interesting comparing the logged ratios to the real makeup of a natural space, if that’s possible to quantify. This makes me curious how scientists account for the skewed tallies when using iNaturalist data for moving species which will naturally be harder to capture and/or identify.

I came to my spot this afternoon hoping to see it blossoming, having just been at home in Virginia for spring break and seen all the blooming cherry trees and flowers start to pop up, but found it looking quite the same as my last couple winter visits. Most notably, the small red maples past the marsh are starting to bud, and I think the Baswoods are as well, though it’s hard to tell or get a good photo since the branches are so high up.

In that maple patch, there are a couple of pine saplings springing up and a bit of moss I hadn’t seen before, which I identified as Fire Moss with a quick google search, distinct by the little red sprouts coming up out of it- it appears in early spring when the moss melts.

As for signs of wildlife, the usual birds nests are still way up high in the Eastern White Pines, though both seemingly vacant right now. I found a new burrow hole of a small mammal, probably a chipmunk, a few feet from the old one, which is still covered by twigs and needles- maybe it’s a new entrance or maybe a different critter moved in next door. If you stand still you can hear distant twittering, though I can’t identify what birds it belongs too, and its overpowered by the loud munching of squirrels and the highway, still noisy with a lack of foliage to buffer the sound. Here’s an audio clip of that!:

Abbey, Audrey, and I headed down to Centennial Woods on a gorgeous snowy morning walk, hoping to find fresh animal tracks in the snow. It seemed that most creatures slept in, however, since none of us had much luck finding new tracks besides those left by dogs and their owners on walks, and the tracks we could find were difficult to distinguish with a layer of fresh snowflakes collecting on top. The snowy forest quieted the sounds of the road, and made for a very peaceful scene. I went off the path in the more coniferous area of the woods to try and find tracks, but instead stood and listened to the bird song in the pine canopy far above- at least 4 distinct calls!

On our way back, we saw some tracks that must have been very new since their shape was clear and we hadn’t remembered seeing them earlier, left by a critter with a galloping pattern. We debated for some time about whether it was a Cottontail Rabbit or a Gray Squirrel, but I settled on Grey Squirrel since the size difference between front and back paws was less significant, and the hind paws were on the smaller side- about 5.5 cm. I’m also choosing to include prints I eventually decided were Coyote tracks, but contemplated for a while since they were so close to the trail and may also be a medium-sized dog’s; though they are more oval-shaped and show a more distinct “X” through the middle, like the Coyote’s hind paws have in our track guide.

I hope to get a better sense when I return about the areas animals tend to spend more time in, since I felt sort of like I was wandering aimlessly off the trail once the stream-side was scanned for tracks- the only place I knew critters would probably come to at some point. I think better conditions for identification may be when the snow crusts up a little bit, so the outlines are clearer and remain unchanged for a while.

I revisited my site on the second monday back at school, on a cold cloudy afternoon, with the intention of spotting signs of wildlife. The snow blanketing the ground from the last week was a perfect canvas for tracks: the main path showed human, dog, and bike prints, but looking closely just off the beaten path revealed tracks of varying sizes. The now-frozen marsh especially, being such a smooth and welcoming surface, was peppered with bird, rabbit, squirrel, and what may be racoon/fox/marten prints (closeup below).

In the cover of the bare basswood trees, I could also identify rabbit tracks right alongside deer ones, as pictured below. Looking up, I noted that the bird nests in the pines remain intact and presumably inhabited, though the chipmunk hole I kept an eye on is good and buried (hibernating?).

I just visited my spot for the last time (at least to add to this blog). It’s been raining for a couple days, and while all the leaves have fallen and are well into decomposing, I was pleasantly surprised at how much evidence of life I could see- some even revealed to me for the first time.

The chipmunk hole I’ve been watching seems to be covered with sticks and leaves, insulated for the winter. The absence of leaves makes it easy to spot several bird’s nests I hadn’t noticed- or weren’t there- before. I could see and hear many crows and the usual scampering of squirrels; I even caught a glimpse of a woodpecker (see video below). Fungi have thrived on the decomposing pine and some of the more moisture-retaining living trees

The marsh is even bigger and less grassy than in November, and the heavy rains have cleared it of the strange oily substance that has seemed ever-present in the past. I also noticed a patch of bright green plants on the forest floor near the pine trees that I couldn’t see through the thicker foliage in the trees and on the ground, which is likely Poison Oak according to iNaturalist.

I’ve become very fond of this spot and I’m definitely gonna be coming back on my own to keep an eye on all the processes happening here constantly! The thing I love most about the place is that despite its proximity to a big road, a research complex, and a golf course, it houses an incredible amount of mini-ecosystems and is a place a person can get away to- I see people walking their dogs along the little trail often, and it’s like a breath of fresh air to escape into a patch of trees and plants and marshes from the open exposed golf course trails. I like to think it’s appreciated by people who live here, and now that includes me!

Over Thanksgiving break, I’m visiting some friends of mine at McGill in Montreal and Mount Royal, located right in the city just a 20 minute walk from campus, was the obvious choice for a phenology spot here.

I paused to look more closely at the ecology of the place just near the official summit, at a modest 764 ft. elevation (45°30’26.9″N 73°35’25.3″W).

The first thing I noticed was the abundance of sugar maples, the fallen leaves (mostly green, interestingly) making up most of the organic matter on the path- there are only a few at my spot in Burlington, though their colors were more vivid. Some snow left from a couple nights ago, pretty much slush by now, also covers the ground, speeding up decomposition and sinking into the soil. Other trees in the overstory here include white oaks, a few paper birches, and a patch of tall black cherrys, all bare of leaves. The understory is composed mostly of buckthorn, which this place has in common with my spot in Burlington. I could not find any basswoods, however, which are the dominant tree back at my spot.

This is a distinctly interesting urban natural area- a mountain (more like big hill) right in the middle of the city. The foot traffic from students, residents, and visitors is heavy to see attractions like the Mount Royal Cross, Chalet, and overlooks (and feed the squirrels), and paved paths and maintenance roads cut up the forest into sections. Most people stick to these routes, but trampled trails (used for cross-country skiing/snowshoeing when the snow is thicker) weave through the plateau at the top of the mountain- many areas are marked off, however, with fences and signs designating them “Zone de Plantation”. Despite the stress of thousands of visitors and a somewhat isolated location in the city, this natural area is clearly valued and efforts are made to preserve and maintain it regularly.

Prompted by Honorable Harvest, I decided to leave a little rock stack with a pretty maple leaf at a fork in the trail to signify the path I enjoyed most and ended up taking, and to thank the park for providing a little respite from the loud city.

• First snow today! It’s really cold, open golf course nearby makes it more noticeable now that many leaves are gone

• Leaves:
  • Most of the overstory has shed its leaves, as well as the few small maples, though low-growing trees and most of the Basswoods still have some: the big, old ones are even still green, while the patch of young basswoods is yellowing
• Organic Matter:
  • The fallen black walnuts I noted before are mostly blackened and in various stages of decomposition, and the layer of fallen leaves is much thicker (though the chipmunk hole is still exposed and looks to be in use!)
• Marsh:
  • More of the marsh is visible, though I’m not sure if it has gotten bigger or it is just more exposed as the grasses die- the oily substance is still here, so I think it may be an enduring issue stemming from the nearby Bio-Research Complex

• Sitting quietly and listening:
  • Animals- sounds of squirrels and chipmunks chittering, distant chirping of small birds, and a crow somewhere nearby (couldn’t find any signs of nests)
  • Rustling leaves- the cleared area of the golf course right next to this spot makes it gustier, maybe too cold and windy for many birds (I hear more further down the path) and might cause leaves to fall sooner
  • Spear Street traffic is easier to hear as many of the leaves padding the noise have fallen