Above: marsh marigold

While the weather has been wild and variable lately, spring is moving along! It seems as though cold weather is mostly behind us, and the flora and fauna know it. A second round of toads are calling as I write, and warblers such as Louisianna waterthrush (below), yellow-rumped, blue-headed vireos, golden and ruby-crowned kinglets, and northern parulas have been seen and/or heard on site.

As for flowers, Solomon’s seal (below) is just getting started, and blue cohosh has just finished up.

Marsh marigold is at peak, several violets including long-spurred, downy yellow, dog, three-lobed, cream, common blue, and confederate are blooming along the forest floor, and a host of other visual pleasures like Greek valerian, wood poppy (bottom, center), bellwort, toadshade trillium, dutchman’s breeches (below, right), yellow trout lily, spring beauty, and of course, Virginia bluebells, litter the property with color. Wild ginger rests along the ground, awaiting flies, ants, and beetles, while mayapple foliage towers above like umbrellas – if you’re toad-sized.

Jack-in-the-pulpit (below) erupts from the leaflitter on a hillside, surrounded by cut-leaved toothwort. Dozens of these unusual flowers were discovered while pulling the highly invasive garlic mustard this week.

We’ve spent hours over the past two weeks removing garlic mustard from the property, and spending that much time outside usually results in some cool finds, like this dusky salamander, found beneath a stone near one of the property’s wooded spring-fed streams.

Below: Blue cohosh (left), slimy salamander (right)

Above: wild ginger (left), Greek valerian (right)

Stop in this week to see what you can see!

Above: Virginia bluebells

In an unexpected act of fortune and happenstance, a new reptile has been added to Wahkeena’s list of animal species!

Three summers prior, I visited Wahkeena for the first time, looking to photograph the enchanting and ephemeral pink lady’s slipper. Temps were mild and the sun was shining happily above, and I did find the lady’s slipper and composed a few photos. Objective accomplished, I set out on the Casa Burrow trail in hopes of seeing anything else interesting and was not disappointed.

I paused to catch my breath for a moment at the trail’s peak, and in those few moments, movement on top of a downed tree crossing the trail caught my eye – a skink!

It rested for a moment in the sun that was filtering in from the canopy above, barely long enough to snap a few frames, and then skittered below to the underside of the log.

Recently, I mentioned this chance meeting to preserve manager Tom, and showed him the photos I’d taken, and down the rabbit hole we went. It wasn’t a five-lined skink – the species already recorded on the flora and fauna list, but a broad-headed skink – one not yet confirmed for the preserve!

Keep an eye out on your next visit for our newest official addition to Wahkeena.

– Naturalist Leah

While a few stray peepers continue to call, before the temperature dropped this week, it was the American Toad that serenaded the outdoor listener.

Dozens of these warty amphibians welcomed us Sunday evening as the waning sun did its best to penetrate the overcast haze hanging in the West. Single males hopped about – remember, toads hop and frogs leap – often searching for higher ground such as a partially submerged log or bunch of flattened cattails from which to call from. Their vibrating trill is unmistakable, and at times, when upwards of ten were calling at once, quite loud!

I kneeled in my waders to photograph a pair in amplexus – the term used to describe toad mating, where the male latches onto the female from atop her back, waiting for her to disperse two almost impossibly long strands of eggs running parallel and often intertwined, so that he may fertilize them – while preserve manager Tom demonstrated a fascinating phenomenon.

American Toads are eager and indiscriminatory during mating season. They may accidentally grab an entirely different species, even a salamander, or, funnier still, the fingers of a curious human dipping them into the water. They may also grab another male toad, but neither male wants this, and so to advertise a mismatch, the male who has been mounted will produce a chirp. Tom carefully scooped up an unsuspecting individual and gently squeezed behind its front legs on either side, and sure, enough, chirp chirp chirp.

This response is a result of toad mating mechanics; during this time, males will develop a black, coarse, and raised patch behind their thumbs that will aid them in gripping and holding onto the females beneath her armpits. And a good grip is necessary – often, other males will approach a pair in amplexus and attempt to bully his way in, and the female must hop away. This may even turn into something of brawl – I witnessed one ball of toads where the intruder had feet to the sky for a few seconds as he wrestled for access. So, when a male feels that he’s been made the little spoon, he chirps, saying hey! move along!

If this method does not result in a chirp, you’ve most likely got a female. After all, she’s got no reason to announce that she’s a female because this is business as usual for her!

Thanks for tuning in for some tidbits about toads!

– Naturalist Leah

Spring is here, and all around the preserve, wildflowers are taking note. March 29^th saw our very first bloodroot and spring beauties open for the sun, but others have been in bloom for some time. Carmen’s vinca, glory of the snow, and many different daffodils litter the property and offer a cheery expression, even on wet, cloudy days, while the native skunk cabbage beckons the careful observer.

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Skunk cabbage (above), at first glance, looks little like a typical flower – if there is such a thing – but a closer inspection will reveal intricacies and abilities absent in other species. Though we’re nearing the end of its bloom period, we’ll take a moment to examine and appreciate these attributes.

Not only will heat melt any snow preventing pollinators such as flies and beetles from reaching it – because there typically aren’t any bees or butterflies out so early – but the heat also adds to the plant’s impression of rotting carrion. As you may have guessed given its name, skunk cabbage does not bear a pleasant smell. Instead, it mimics a decomposing animal to attract pollinators.

To protect its flowers from the elements, it developed the variegated outer structure, the color of which also mimics flesh, known as the spathe. It is tough, somewhere between purple cabbage and stiff leather in texture and feel and shields the spadix inside.

Stop by soon to witness with unique Ohio native, as well as the ever-increasing list of other wildflowers rewarding us for another winter survived.

– Naturalist Leah

Above: spotted salamander, Ambystoma maculatum.

Lizard? Worm? Something in between? Salamanders, like frogs and toads, are amphibians. Despite their mild superficial resemblance to lizards, they aren’t reptiles – though they are cold-blooded. As ectotherms, their activity is limited by temperature; in the winter, they’re largely inactive, and in the summer, they’re going about business as usual. However, when certain conditions are met, it is possible to find salamanders as early as February. In fact, your greatest chances of seeing more than one at once are probably in late February and March!

So what are those magical conditions? Fifty degrees, raining, and dark – as in nighttime. They aren’t hard and fast, because you might find a few moving slow if temperatures are closer to forty-five degrees, but the salamander runs with the highest traffic occur when all three of these conditions are met. This year, we had the right temps at the right time, but didn’t quite hit the mark with a heavy rain. Still, spotted salamanders were on the move with the steady sprinkle we did receive, along with a few spring peepers, wood frogs, red-spotted newts, and a pair of long-tailed salamanders.

Above: A spring peeper hovers near the edge of a pool. Several of the pools we have here at Wahkeena were actually built as water features for Carmen’s garden but have long since been used as breeding grounds for several amphibians. 

And what exactly do we mean when we refer to this mass movement of salamanders in the spring as a run or “migration”? Again, we acknowledge that salamanders are not reptiles, which would have dry, scaly skin, but amphibians, which have soft skin lacking scales that is often wet with mucus to preserve moisture. Additionally, they spend part of their life in water and part on land. Like many frogs, most salamanders, such as the spotted, start life as eggs laid underwater. There, they develop for a few weeks until they hatch, looking a lot like tadpoles. How long they exist as larvae in the water varies by species and is affected by variables like water temperature, but eventually, they metamorphose into their adult form and leave the water. At that point, they’re capable of living on land because they no longer use their gills for respiration – instead, they now breathe with their lungs (if they have them), their skin, or a combination of both. 

Wait, some salamanders don’t have lungs?

Correct – salamanders of the Plethofontidae family don’t have lungs. But they still need oxygen, so how do they get it? A process called cutaneous respiration, where oxygen is absorbed through their skin, whether they’re in water (remember water, H2O, is two hydrogen molecules and one oxygen molecule) or on land. However, this process can only take place if their skin adequately moist. If their skin dries out, essentially, they can’t breathe and, if left like that, will die. They keep their skin wet enough by inhabiting moist environments, such as underneath a log or in an underground burrow. They’re also largely nocturnal, keeping them out of the sun’s drying rays. 

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Above: These long-tailed salamanders, photographed at Wahkeena, are members of the Plethodontidae family. Below: Red-backed salamanders, a woodland species that does not utilize vernal pools and actually lays their eggs on land where they will develop fully inside their eggs and hatch as adults without gills, are also plethodontids.

Above left: Red-backed salamander eggs discovered beneath a log. Above right: A red-backed salamander found in late February.

This all ties back to migration because when it’s warm enough at night for the salamanders to be active, the rain allows them to traverse long stretches of land to the very vernal pool they once hatched from to mate and lay their own eggs. These very specific conditions may only happen a few days, and so the salamanders must take advantage when they can. 

Above: A spotted salamander on the move.

Males and females alike will congregate in the water, some in amplexus, where the male latches onto the female and waits for her to lay eggs so he may fertilize them externally, and some where the male will deposit a spermatophore for the female use to fertilize her eggs at her discretion. 

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Top left: wood frogs in amplexus. Top right: Wood frog embryos. Bottom middle: Wood frog tadpoles.

This all must take place in the vernal pools because by nature, vernal pools are temporary; they fill with water from snow and spring rain, and by the end of the summer dry up, meaning they can’t support predators such as fish who would consume the eggs and larvae. By the end of the summer, the larvae should have developed enough to drop their gills and be able to begin life on land.

Above: Spotted salamander egg mass at Wahkeena.

Above: Salamander eggs, attached to sticks. Notice the fluffy white debris on the pool floor that resembles cotton swab heads. Those are spermatophores from the previous night.

Above: Salamander eggs mid-development.

Above: Salamander larva with noticeable gills.

Above: Red-spotted newts may hunt during the day, even feeding on other salamander eggs. They are somewhat of an anomaly among salamanders in that after metamorphosing from larvae to adult, they leave the water to spend 1-2 years on a land in a terrestrial form referred to as a Red Eft, and then return to the water where they’ll remain for the rest of their lives. The name comes from their bright red coloration that tells predators such as birds, snakes, frogs, and mammals like raccoons, that they’re toxic and best left alone.

Above: An adult spotted salamander may live 20-30 years!

– Naturalist Leah

Just as their name implies, Pine Siskins feed on seeds from pines and other conifers. This finch ranges erratically across North America, common in Ohio one winter, then completely absent the next. Watch (and listen) for large flocks of Siskins feeding in conifers, or even at your backyard bird feeder.

Hey Valentine! You make my head spin!

The Eastern screech is one of Ohio’s most common owls. Heavily reliant on nesting cavities, any habitat with plenty of trees is likely to contain one of these inconspicuous owls. Around this time of year, late February, many screech owls form monogamous pairs, and begin nesting.

These owls have quite an elaborate courtship ritual; the male will approach the female, trilling closer and closer from different branches. He then performs a series of displays to further draw her attention, including body bobbing, head swiveling, and slowly winking. If the pairing is successful the two may remain together for life. Happy Valentines Day!

The predicted 1-2 inch snow has become 5 inches and counting. This morning saw white-out conditions with visibility at a couple of feet! Read More