Mushrooms are Never Out of Season

Snowflake sprinkled Winter Mushrooms (Flammulina velutipes)

Photo: Mark Conboy

My mother finds some of the most interesting Christmas cards you can imagine. Among the hundreds she's stuck to our family's gifts over the years is one that sticks in my mind: an absurd illustration of a huge red and white Fly Agaric (Amanita muscaria) mushroom protruding from a thick blanket of snow and surrounded by various happy and jolly wintry creatures. I wish I still had that card, just for the laughs it brought me. Fly Agarics don't grow in the winter, at least not where I live, but there is one species that does. My interest in this species was peaked yesterday afternoon when I found a cluster growing on a decrepit old Heart-leaved Willow (Salix cordata).

The wild form of this mushroom is variously called Winter Mushroom, Black Foot, Velvet Foot, Velvet Stem, Velvet Stalk, Velvet Shank, or Seafood Mushroom. There's also a domestic form that goes by a different suite of names: Golden Needle Mushroom, Lily Mushroom, Enoki, and perhaps most popularly, Enokitake. Either way, all names refer to Flammulina velutina, and its the only species of mushroom that regularly fruits in winter. Winter Mushrooms can grow in colder weather than most other species, in part because they have proteins that bind to ice, lowering the freezing point, reducing the chances of cell damage in moderately cold temperatures.

The domestic form of the Winter Mushroom (Flammulina velutipes)

Photo: Chris 73 (Wikimedia Commons)

By comparison to the wild type (top photo), the form of Winter Mushroom that can be purchased in grocery stores and Chinatowns, usually called Enotitake, is almost unrecognizable. Enotitake is one of the most commonly cultivated fungi species in the world. They're grown in darkness, so the mushrooms don't develop any pigments. They're also grown in a CO2-rich environment, which causes the mushrooms to take on a long, thin habit and develop only small button-like caps. Yes, the wild form is edible too, but use caution not to confuse it with other late-fruiting wood-dwelling mushrooms, such as Deadly Galerina (Galerina autumnalis) and its congeners. Needless to say, you don't want to eat Deadly Galerina; expert advice and a good field guide are absolutely necessary when identifying edible mushrooms.

BioBrevia: Smallest of the Small

This shot of a Buprestis striata is indeed macro, but the Nikon Small World

Photomicrography Competition takes it to a whole new level.

Photo: Mark Conboy

The winners of the 2015 Nikon Small World Photomicrography Competition have been announced. The winner was Ralph Grimm's shot of a pollen-laced European Honey Bee (Apis mellifera) eye. Check out these stunning images. While you're at it, also check out the Small World in Motion Competition. The winner was Wim van Egmond's video of two ciliate protozoans: a Trachelius sp. depredating a Campanella sp.

BioBrevia: Going Deep

Lake Erie's east basin

Map: CHS/NOAA

I live on the north shore of Lake Erie. I watch its water levels rise and fall, its storms rage and subside. I boat hundreds of kilometres on its surface in the course of a year. I watch the migratory birds, butterflies and dragonflies swarm along Long Point every spring and fall. I swim on its wonderful sandy beaches. I'm intrigued by all aspects of Lake's Erie's natural history and geography. To that end, I've enjoyed this set of bathymetry maps from the Canadian Hydrographic Service, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA)  National Geophysical Data Center's Marine Geology and Geophysics Division, and the NOAA Great Lakes Environmental Research Laboratory.

BioBrevia: National Birds of the World

Hoatzin (Opisthocomus hoazin)

Photo: Philina English

Canadian Geographic has put together a map showing some national birds from around the world. A surprising number of countries, including Canada, don't have officially recognized national birds, but are in the process of selecting one. Unfortunately, the map doesn't stick to the conventional names that most of us are used to. It has the United States' bird labelled as American bald eagle, which isn't a real species name; simply, Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) is correct. Most birders will know Cuba's national bird, not as the tocororo, but as the Cuban Trogon (Priotelus temnurus), but only the former name is given. And there are no scientific names with which to cross-reference the other obscure local or colloquial names like cahow (Bermuda Petrel [Pterodroma cahow]) or Canje pheasant (Hoatzin [Opisthocomus hoazin]). It's an interesting map, nonetheless.

In Praise of the Freshwater Drum

Freshwater Drum (Aplodinotus grunniens)

Illustration: WPClipart

I wish to say a few words about an odd fish, the Freshwater Drum (Aplodinotus grunniens). Here's a species that I too seldom see alive, but I do find washed up dead, on the shores of Lake Erie with some regularity. Indeed, just this evening I watched a Great Black-backed Gull (Larus marinus) rip apart a smoldering drum carcass, its heavy bill effortlessly shearing the hard overlapping ctenoid scales that smaller scavengers like Ring-billed Gulls (Larus delawarensis) would have had difficulty penetrating. As fascinating as is the process of death and decay, it's the living Freshwater Drum that I'm here to endorse.

A drum's thick scales help protect it from attack by the parasitic native Silver Lamprey (Ichthyomyzon unicuspis) and the highly invasive non-native Sea Lamprey (Petromyzon marinus). Using suction cup-like mouths, lampreys attach themselves to large fish, chewing through their host's scales to the soft tissue below, using a toothed tongue. A lamprey feeds on the blood of its host, sometimes for months at a time. This can be severely detrimental to the host, resulting in reduced reproductive success, or ultimately even death. Freshwater Drum enjoy the advantage of being a among the most well-armored Great Lakes fish, a significant advantage in a world teaming with raspy-tongued parasites.

Besides their boilerplate scales, drum are oddballs among Great Lakes fish for other reasons, and their name, Freshwater Drum, makes it plain. This is the only species of totally freshwater-dwelling drum. All of the other 160 or so drums and croakers (family Sciaenidae) are marine. No other native Great Lakes fish has such a salty pedigree, though the Burbot (Lota lota) comes close, with only one other member of the cod family (Gadidae) found in freshwater - the Atlantic Tomcod (Microgadus tomcod). The name drum, and the specific moniker grunniens, which means "grunting", refers to the sounds that this species makes during mating, and, indeed, when handled by anglers. Drums don't vocalize in the conventional way most mammals or birds do, by issuing vibrations in the throat, instead their sounds are produced by muscular manipulating of the swim bladder. As far as I know, this is the only Great Lakes fish that makes sounds.

Freshwater Drum eggs contain a large oil globule that allows them to float on the water's surface, something totally unique among North American freshwater fish. Most other freshwater fish lay their eggs in nests, like sticklebacks and sunfish, or  stick their eggs to vegetation or other debris, as Yellow Perch (Perca flavescens) do. Some ichthyologists have suggested that planktonic eggs may be particularly good at dispersing long distances, perhaps having played a role in helping Freshwater Drum to attain the greatest natural latitudinal distribution of any fish in North America; they range from the northern reaches of Manitoba's mighty Nelson River to southern Mexico and Guatemala.

From a simple examination of a fish's mouth, it's possible to hypothesize something about its foraging ecology. For example, a Brook Silverside (Labidesthes sicculus) sports an upturned mouth for taking surface-dwelling prey, and don't forget the aforementioned parasitic lampreys with their suctioning and rasping mouthparts. Silversides and lampreys have highly modified external mouthparts, and while Freshwater Drums have extraordinary internal mouth parts. They're highly adapted for crushing the shells of hard-bodied prey. Most perciform fish have two sets of jaws, the external ones which we can plainly see, and a set of internal ones, and it's a drum's internal ones, the pharyngeal jaws, that set them apart. Drum pharyngeal arches are unique among Great Lakes fish in that they are fused together and are covered with large molar-like teeth, adaptations for processing hard foods, namely mollusks and crayfish. No other fish in the Great Lakes has such highly modified arches, though some other species, like Pumpkinseed (Lepomis gibbosus) and Yellow Perch, do feed on mollusks, they don't have the same crushing adaptations. Drums grind native and non-native mollusks, alike, including Zebra (Dreissena polymorpha) and Quagga Mussels (Dreissena bugensis), on those molar-like teeth using powerful muscles which are supported by a series of bone struts on their robust skulls.

Once in a while, while wandering along the beach, I find a polished and intact drum arch washed up on shore, a reminder that there is a thick-scaled, croaking, planktonic egg-laying, mussel-crushing, freshwater version of a marine fish, beneath the Lake Erie waves. Fascinating!

BioBrevia: X-rayted Natural History

X-ray and schematic illustrations of the critically endangered Montserrat Galliwasp (Diploglossus montisserrati) and shell fragments of its prey, a freshwater snail (Omalonyx matheroni).

Imagery: Bohaton et al 2015 (Creative Commons Attribution 4.0)

A new paper in Royal Society Open Science by Bochaton et al, X-ray Microtomography Provides First Data About the Feeding Behaviour of an Endangered Lizard, the Montserrat Galliwasp (Diploglossus montisserrati), is certainly a novel investigation of lizard diets. The Montserrat Galliwasp is one of the rarest reptiles on Earth, so rare that decades pass between observations of it in the wild, and it has only found its way into museum collections twice. This is an interesting article; here's the abstract:

Reporting the diet of recently extinct or very rare taxa, only known by a few museum specimens, is challenging. This study uses X-ray microtomography, a non-destructive investigation method, to obtain the first data about feeding behaviours in the Montserrat galliwasp (Diploglossus montisserrati) by scanning one of the two specimens known to date. The scans revealed the occurrence of shell fragments of a freshwater snail (Omalonyx matheroni) in the digestive tract of the specimen. This data combined with morphological evidence shows the occurrence of a durophagous feeding habit and a possible tendency of association with freshwater environments. This information could be crucial to save this critically endangered lizard endemic on Montserrat island. (Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0).

BioBrevia: New Clawed Frogs from Africa

New and "resurrected" species of clawed frogs.

Photos: From Evans et al 2015. Creative Commons Attribution 4.0.

Here's a new article in PLOS ONE, by Evans et al., with the descriptive title: Genetics, Morphology, Advertisement Calls, and Historical Records Distinguish Six New Polyploid Species of African Clawed Frog (Xenopus, Pipidae) from West and Central Africa. This paper deals much more with the nuances of genetics and systematics than the natural history of the frogs themselves. It is a great illustration of just how complex the diagnoses of species can be. Here's the abstract:

African clawed frogs, genus Xenopus, are extraordinary among vertebrates in the diversity of their polyploid species and the high number of independent polyploidization events that occurred during their diversification. Here we update current understanding of the evolutionary history of this group and describe six new species from west and central sub-Saharan Africa, including four tetraploids and two dodecaploids. We provide information on molecular variation, morphology, karyotypes, vocalizations, and estimated geographic ranges, which support the distinctiveness of these new species. We resurrect Xenopus calcaratus from synonymy of Xenopus tropicalis and refer populations from Bioko Island and coastal Cameroon (near Mt. Cameroon) to this species. To facilitate comparisons to the new species, we also provide comments on the type specimens, morphology, and distributions of X. epitropicalis, X. tropicalis, and X. fraseri. This includes significantly restricted application of the names X. fraseri and X. epitropicalis, the first of which we argue is known definitively only from type specimens and possibly one other specimen. Inferring the evolutionary histories of these new species allows refinement of species groups within Xenopus and leads to our recognition of two subgenera (Xenopus and Silurana) and three species groups within the subgenus Xenopus (amieti, laevis, and muelleri species groups). (Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0).

Cave Swallow Express

Cave Swallow (Petrochelidon fulva)

One of my favourite walking routes is a 5 km stretch of Lake Erie coast, along beaches, over dunes, past wetlands and scrubby bush, which even in December, can produce a good diversity of birds, including fantastic counts of waterfowl. Sometimes, this walk offers up a particularly nice surprise, like the one that came in the form of three Cave Swallows (Petrochelidon fulva), just the other day. Cave Swallows are rare in Ontario, but they do occur nearly every autumn, and the reasons behind their late-season appearance are still a little unclear, but is a probably a combination of factors, including far-ranging weather systems, population ecology and life history traits.

Usually, Cave Swallows begin to appear in Ontario in late October through November, with some birds lingering (or even arriving) as late as December, when the weather allows. Almost all of Ontario's records are from the north shores of Lakes Erie and Ontario, with a few scattered observations elsewhere. Movements into Ontario seem to be almost invariably preceded by strong southerly winds, sometimes in the form of hurricanes and tropical storms, or as more subdued systems which channel warm air out of the southern United States and into the Great Lakes basin. In late fall and even early winter, when southern winds are blowing, it's time to start looking for Cave Swallows. It's not just Ontario that receives these apparent reverse migrations of swallows, the southern Atlantic states, for example, also experience such events.

But why is it the Cave Swallow, of all the possible species, that gets blown north each fall? There are likely a number of factors at work, the first being the phenomenal population increase this species has undergone in Texas since its first breeding record in 1915. Texas's Cave Swallows have increased their breeding range by an estimated 898% since 1957, with concomitant increases in the numbers of both breeding and overwintering birds, particularly in the 1990's. Ontario records may reflect the assent of Cave Swallows, to some degree; the first record of Cave Swallows in Ontario was in 1989, and near-annual autumn movements began in 1998. Species that experience such explosive population growth and range expansion, also seem to be most prone to producing vagrants, in part because young birds may be disperse widely in search of new, less densely populated breeding sites.

There are also life history traits that may mean Cave Swallows are particularly good candidates for vagrancy. Being aerialists, swallows are more likely than other birds, to be sucked into weather systems. Because they are such gifted fliers, Cave Swallows could potentially ride systems longer than other species, which may need to drop out to rest before reaching the Great Lakes. That's not to say that other species don't arrive as vagrants in association with the same kinds of weather patterns that bring the swallows. Currently, there is a western flycatcher (Empidonax sp) in Ohio, and a Vermilion Flycatcher (Pyrocephalus rubinus), a Bullock's Oriole (Icterus bullockii) and a couple of Mountain Bluebirds (Sialia currucoides) in Ontario, plus a Black-throated Grey Warbler (Setophaga nigrescens) in western Quebec. These species could have all been brought north on the same weather systems that have been shuttling Cave Swallows into the Great Lakes basin this fall. Birders should use Cave Swallows as an alert system: when the Cave Swallow Express rolls in, there may other rarities on board.

BioBrevia: New Birding Record

Rufous Motmot (Baryphthengus martii)

Photo: Philina English

A team of birders in Ecuador has established a new world record: they've seen 431 species of birds in 24 hours, that's more than any other team has managed in a single day! George Paul has put together a nice article about this record (with more to come) and the history of the Global Big Day on the American Birding Association blog.

BioBrevia: Ancient Aesthetics

Han Shan

Illustration: Yan Hui

Ever since I discovered Gary Snyder's and Bill Porter's (aka Red Cloud) translations of the hermit-poet Han Shan's esoteric works, I've had a fascination with the natural imagery and aesthetics of ancient Chinese poetry. Or, at least the English translations of it. Here's a short a piece from Orion that won't be lost on fans of this remarkable art form.

BioBrevia: Finlandia

Osprey (Pandion haliaetus)

Photo: NASA (Wikimedia Commons)

 

You don't have to be a fan of classical music to appreciate this wonderful celebration of Nordic nature, set to Jean Sibelius's dramatic tone poem Finlandia, Op. 26. To me, a Canadian, Finland's wilderness of spruces, pines, rocks and lakes, looks very much like home. In fact, all of the animals featured in this video, aside from the Siberian Flying Squirrel (Pteromys volans), are shared between Finland and Canada: Grizzly Bear (Ursus arctos), Caribou (Rangifer tarandus), Common Goldeneye (Bucephala clangula), Red-throated Loon (Gavia stellata), Osprey (Pandion haliaetus) and Common Raven (Corvus corax).

BioBrevia: Another New Atlantic Forest Amphibian

Dendropsophus bromeliaceus

Photos: From Ferreira et al 2015 (Creative Commons Attribution 4.0)

Brazil's Atlantic Forest, which thanks to its more famous counterpart, the Amazon Rainforest, just doesn't get the attention it deserves, at least not from the general public. Luckily, the Atlantic Forest's incredible biodiversity hasn't been lost on biologists though, who continue working toward unravelling its mysteries. Not too long ago, I posted a note on the three new toad species that were described from the Atlantic Forest. All of those species were bromeligenous, that is to say they, like the Golden Rocket Frog (Anomaloglossus beebei) I've previously written about, breed in little pools of water that collect in bromeliads. A new paper in PLOS ONE by Ferreira et al, introduces yet another newly described phytotelm-breeding species from the Atlantic Forest. To meet the treefrog Dendropsophus bromeliaceus read the paper; here's the abstract, to get you started:

We describe a new treefrog species of Dendropsophus collected on rocky outcrops in the Brazilian Atlantic Forest. Ecologically, the new species can be distinguished from all known congeners by having a larval phase associated with rainwater accumulated in bromeliad phytotelms instead of temporary or lentic water bodies. Phylogenetic analysis based on molecular data confirms that the new species is a member of Dendropsophus; our analysis does not assign it to any recognized species group in the genus. Morphologically, based on comparison with the 96 known congeners, the new species is diagnosed by its small size, framed dorsal color pattern, and short webbing between toes IV-V. The advertisement call is composed of a moderate-pitched two-note call (~5 kHz). The territorial call contains more notes and pulses than the advertisement call. Field observations suggest that this new bromeligenous species uses a variety of bromeliad species to breed in, and may be both territorial and exhibit male parental care. (Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0).

BioBrevia: A Bird's-Eye View of Sockeyes

Spawning Sockeye Salmon (Oncorhynchus nerka)

Photo: William Rosmus (Wikimedia Commons)

Photographer Jason Ching gives us a bird's-eye view of a big Sockeye Salmon (Oncorhynchus nerka) run on Lake Iliamna, Alaska’s largest lake. The imagery is beautiful, the fish abundant, and the resulting temptation to go see the run for oneself is real. Check out the video here.

BioBrevia: The Furthest South a Bird Can Go

South Polar Skua (Stercorarius maccormicki)

Illustration: Joseph Smit (Wikimedia Commons)

Here's an interesting meditation of sorts, from Frontiers in Ecology, on the only bird species that's ever been recorded at the South Pole: the aptly named and intrepid South Polar Skua (Stercorarius maccormicki).

BioBrevia: Hope for the Old Fashion Field Naturalist

Illustration: Philip Henry Gosse 

This brief article from Science, Explosion in new Dragonfly Species Results in Animals Named after Gorillas, Pink Floyd, and the accompanying presentation, are great inspiration for would-be naturalist-explorers. A small team recently described 60 new species of dragonflies and damselflies from west and central Africa. All of these species were recognized in the field before they were diagnosed using genetics in the lab, demonstrating that an abundance of new species still await discovery the old fashioned way, by simply getting out in the field and knowing your stuff. The actual journal article in which the new species are described is available from Odonatologica.

BioBrevia: New Species of Toads from Brazil

Melanophryniscus biancae.
Photo: from Bornschein et al 2015 (Creative Commons Attribution 4.0) 

A newly published paper in PLOS One by Bornschein et al entitled Three New Species of Phytotelm-Breeding Melanophryniscus from the Atlantic Rainforest of Southern Brazil (Anura: Bufonidae), brings to light some exciting discoveries in a rapidly vanishing habitat. Here's the abstract:
 

Three new species of Melanophryniscus are described from the Serra do Mar mountain range of the state of Santa Catarina, southern Brazil. All species are found at intermediate to high altitudes and share phytotelm-breeding as their reproductive strategy. The new species are distinguished from other phytotelm-breeding Melanophryniscus based on different combinations of the following traits: snout-vent length, presence of white and/or yellow spots on forearms, mouth, belly and cloaca, pattern and arrangement of warts, and presence and number of corneous spines. The discovery of these species in a rather restricted geographical area suggests that the diversity of phytotelm-breeding species of Melanophryniscus might be severely underestimated. The conservation status of these species is of particular concern, given that one of them is at risk of extinction not only due to its restricted habitat, but also because of anthropogenic disturbances. (Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0).

Columbine Graveyards

Serpentine Columbine (Aquilegia eximia)

Photo: David A. Hofmann (Creative Commons)

The oak savannah and Chamise (Adenostoma fasciculatum) chaparral of California's North Coast Ranges, are interrupted here and there by a unique and altogether surprising floral community: plants that grow on poison. In this case, the poison is serpentine, rocks that are so rich in magnesium and iron that they, and their associated soils, are toxic to most plants. Most, but not all.

There are some plants that can grow on serpentine deposits and many of those are rare and endemic, not to mention highly adapted, making serpentine flora one of a most intriguing element in California's generous biological endowment. Among the most exquisite serpentine plants is Serpentine Columbine (Aquilegia eximia), which displays large red and yellow flowers to attract the attention of pollinators. In addition to pollinators, Serpentine Columbine attracts great many other insects, but for a totally different reason.

Plants attract animals to help them with all kinds of tasks; the two most obvious, of course, are pollination and seed dispersal. Pollinators are attracted by scents and visually stimulating flowers. Take the elaborate deceptions of the Fly Orchid (Ophyrys insectifera), which wafts bee pheromone-like scents from its bee-shaped flowers. Real bees come not in search of pollen or nectar, as they might at a more conventional flower, but instead they come to mate with the lookalike blossom, in the process getting coated in pollen. The bees pollinate the next orchid they visit in another misguided hope for sex.

Some plants are entirely dependent on animals for dispersing their seeds. In the Rocky Mountains, Clark's Nutcrackers (Nucifraga columbiana) are the near-exclusive disperser of Whitebark Pine (Pinus albicaulis) seeds, transporting them great distances and planting them in suitable habitats.

Examples of animal pollinators and seed dispersers are virtually limitless, but there are lots of other reasons for plants to attract animals. Sometimes it's to eat them. Venus's Flytrap (Dionaea muscipula), is probably the most dramatic of the so-called carnivorous plants, capturing and later digesting insects and even small frogs between snap tap-like leaves. Even the ubiquitous Field Thistle (Cirsium discolor) may capture insects using sticky secretions on its flowers; those same secretions act as digestive enzymes, digesting stuck insects and providing an unusual food source, at least among thistles species.

Other plants feed off animals in more passive ways. The impressive Queen of the Andes (Puya raimondii) offers paramo birds a safe haven among its hooked leaves in exchange for the highly nutritious droppings the birds leave behind. As an added benefit to the plant, a bird occassionally gets hooked among the thorny leaves, dying and providing an even richer source of nutrients for the giant bromeliad.

Some plants attract animals to help them battle damaging herbivores. Azteca ants are provided with living spaces in Ceropia trees and are fed from extrafloral necataries, in exchange for doing battle against caterpillars and other damaging herbivores. Providing shelter and nectar is a pretty conventional way of attracting helpful predators, but there are a few plants, including the Serpentine Columbine, that attract protective insects in a completely different way, and that's by essentially becoming arthropod graveyards.

Serpentine Columbine stems are covered in glandular hair-like trichomes, making them very sticky. So sticky, that they trap insects by the dozens. These trapped insects in turn attract predatory arthropods. The predators come to dispatch trapped living insects or to feed on the corpses of those that have already died. The predators are called upon to primarily combat caterpillars of the Darker Spotted Straw Moth (Heliothis phloxiphaga), which feed on the leaves, buds and even the flowers. The columbine's glandular hairs seem to be of little use in combating this caterpillar, so the plants rally Checker-rimmed Bugs (Pselliopus spinicollis), other true bugs (Order Hemiptera) and even the occasional crab spider (Mecaphesa spp), to help stavse off assault. Between meals of caterpillar, these predators feast on the stuck insects. This buffet style call to arms seems to be effective, columbines with more stuck insects (thus more helpful predators) usually experience greater reproductive success.

The insects that Serpentine Columbines capture aren't, for the most part, pollinators or herbivores that accidentally become stuck, but instead appear to be actively attracted by the plants through some kind of chemical signal. What exactly that signal is remains unclear, but it appears that Serpentine Columbine is the only plant so far known to actively attract insects in this way. Yet another remarkable find from the fascinating serpentine deposits of northern California!

BioBrevia: Of Humpbacks and Seamounts

Satellite tracks of Humpback Whales (Megaptera novaeangliae) between New Caledonia and New Zealand.

Adapted from Garrigue et al 2015 (Creative Commons Attribution 4.0) 

Here's a new article from Royal Society Open Science, Satellite tracking reveals novel migratory patterns and the importance of seamounts for endangered South Pacific humpback whales, by Claire Garrigue et al. This is the abstract:

The humpback whale population of New Caledonia appears to display a novel migratory pattern characterized by multiple directions, long migratory paths and frequent pauses over seamounts and other shallow geographical features. Using satellite-monitored radio tags, we tracked 34 whales for between 5 and 110 days, travelling between 270 and 8540 km on their southward migration from a breeding ground in southern New Caledonia. Mean migration speed was 3.53±2.22 km h⁻¹, while movements within the breeding ground averaged 2.01±1.63 km h⁻¹. The tag data demonstrate that seamounts play an important role as offshore habitats for this species. Whales displayed an intensive use of oceanic seamounts both in the breeding season and on migration. Seamounts probably serve multiple and important roles as breeding locations, resting areas, navigational landmarks or even supplemental feeding grounds for this species, which can be viewed as a transient component of the seamount communities. Satellite telemetry suggests that seamounts represent an overlooked cryptic habitat for the species. The frequent use by humpback whales of such remote locations has important implications for conservation and management. (Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0).

BioBrevia: Death by Water

European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris)

Photo: NatJLN (Wikimedia Commons)

A new article by Lawson et al, Drowning is an apparent and unexpected recurrent cause of mass mortality of Common starlings (Sturnus vulgaris), in Science Reports is an interesting piece of macabre natural history. Here's the abstract:

Drowning is infrequently reported as a cause of death of wild birds and such incidents typically involve individual, rather than multiple, birds. Over a 21-year period (1993 to 2013 inclusive), we investigated 12 incidents of mortality of multiple (2 − 80+) Common starlings (Sturnus vulgaris) in Great Britain that appeared to be due to drowning. More than ten birds were affected in ten of these reported incidents. These incidents always occurred during the spring and early summer months and usually involved juvenile birds. In all cases, circumstantial evidence and post-mortem examinations indicated drowning to be the most likely cause of death with no underlying disease found. A behavioural explanation seems likely, possibly related to the gregarious nature of this species combined with juvenile inexperience in identifying water hazards. A review of data from the ringed bird recovery scheme across Great Britain (1909–2013 inclusive) of both starlings and Common blackbirds (Turdus merula), also a common garden visitor, identified additional suspected drowning incidents, which were significantly more common in the former species, supporting a species predisposition to drowning. For each species there was a marked seasonal peak from April to August. Drowning should be included as a differential diagnosis when investigating incidents of multiple starling mortality, especially of juveniles. (Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0).

Oropendola Economics

Chestnut-headed Oropendola (Psarocolius wagleri)

Illustration: Source Unknown 

I've said it once and I'll say it again: never underestimate blackbirds. Blackbirds are perhaps the most underrated songbirds; they are too often discounted, brushed off, or simply ignored. When they do attract attention its usually for all the wrong reasons. They're maligned as agricultural pests, though many species are more beneficial to farmers for eating insects, than they are destructive in consuming crops. They're derided as ugly, even though a great many species are beautifully coloured - orioles are blackbirds, let us not forget. They're considered noisy, clamorous and obnoxious, when in truth many species have remarkably intriguing, if not utterly beautiful, songs; consider a meadowlark singing on a warm spring day. But such nearsightedness is a fool's understanding. The truth is we must never take the blackbirds for granted, we must never underestimate them, especially the tropical ones!

Among the most conspicuous, and certainly the most charismatic tropical blackbirds are the oropendolas. They're big, badass, flashy (as far as blackbirds go), and their vocalizations are stranger than Norwegian prog rock. Their nests, which take weeks to construct, are incredible feats of engineering: pendulous, intricately woven, and arranged in conspicuous colonies hanging above the forest canopy from the limbs of a enormous emergent, or in an isolated farmland tree. Oropendolas are full of surprises. For example, they've been seen catching hummingbirds. But the most fascinating aspect of oropendola natural history may be their reported relationships with wasps, bot flies and cowbirds.

In Panama, some Chestnut-headed Oropendola (Psarocolius wagleri) colonies are built in trees that are also home to colonies of highly aggressive predatory wasps. The wasps unwittingly assist the oropendolas in two ways. First, they keep most would-be predators at bay; after all who wants to mess with a bunch of ornery flying hypodermic needles? Second, they keep the colony more or less free of parasitic Philornis bot flies. Wasps are hunters after all, using their venomous stings to defend their colonies and subdue their prey. Philornis bot flies are common parasites of neotropical birds. In oropendola colonies Philornis lay their eggs on nestlings, when the eggs hatch the larvae burrow beneath the bird's skin and begin syphoning off the precious resources that the baby birds themselves need to grow. When those neighbourly vespids are present, nestling oropendolas seem to suffer fewer instances of parasitism, but in colonies depauperate of wasps, nestlings can suffer from relentless bot fly parasitism. Infestations can actually be so intense that they can cause widespread nestling mortality.

Enter the Giant Cowbird (Molothrus oryzivorus). Giant Cowbirds, like our familiar North American Brown-headed Cowbirds (Molothrus ater) are brood parasites. They don't build their own nests and raise their own kids, rather they seek out the nests of other species and  foist all parenting responsibilities upon them. Brood parasitism has evolved several times among different families of birds. Cowbirds and cuckoos are perhaps the most famous example, but numerous other birds do it too: some finches, honeyguides, and even ducks. Some brood parasites are fairly choosy, laying their eggs in the nests of a specific host species. Giant Cowbirds, for example, mostly parasitize oropendolas and the closely related caciques, though orioles can make suitable surrogates in a pinch.

Being parasitized doesn't come without consequences. Usually, a host will experience reduced success in raising their own offspring if they also have to raise a parasite's chick. This can be for a number of reasons, like host egg ejection by female cowbirds, or accelerated growth rates of cowbird chicks compared to host chicks. In some cases, hosts will simply abandon their nest and begin the breeding process again. Yellow Warblers (Setophaga petechia) will construct a brand new nest directly on top of their old one, smothering not only the cowbird's eggs but their own as well. Because of the risk that parasitism will result in reduced nesting success, oropendolas normally aggressively defended their nests from Giant Cowbirds. When a cowbird approaches a nest, the colony may irrupt in excitement and the nest owners will do their best to see the interloper off. But at some Panamanian oropendola colonies, astoundingly, Giant Cowbirds are apparently allowed to parasitize the nests! Why?

Colonies where parasitism is reportedly allowed are those which don't have aggressive wasp neighbours to help keep the vicinity clear of bot flies. Remember, that bot fly infestations are most severe when wasps are absent. But Giant Cowbird nestlings in their constant hunger, appear to actually remove bot fly larvae from their oropendola nest mates. They pick the larvae right off their fellow nestlings. In colonies with high a incidence of bot fly infection cowbirds may actually help improve the chances of oropendola survival. In colonies with few bot flies (because of more wasps) cowbirds are only a detriment, so they are vanquished.

This curious piece of natural history, the association between oropendolas, wasps, bot flies and cowbirds has been cited time and again in the scientific and popular literature. It shows up in print frequently enough to give the impression that this complex set of avian-insect interactions is common and widespread; in actuality, it has only been documented in one study dating back to the 1960's. It seems to have never been observed again in Panama, where it was originally described, or anywhere else in Latin America. It's not as though no work has been done on oropendolas since the 1960's. In fact, some studies have even looked at other aspects of Giant Cowbird interactions with other oropendola and cacique species, but have not reported the same types of interactions. Certain authorities on blackbirds have even called into question the validity of the work itself. Certainly, more study is needed. Hopefully, further work in the neotropics will rediscover the oropendola-cowbird mutualism, but if not, there are doubtless even more complex and intricate ecological interactions to be found, and I eagerly await their discoveries.

BioBrevia: Dancing Duetters

Blue-capped Cordon-bleu (Uraeginthus cyanocephalus) dance steps.

Adapted from Ota et al 2015 (Creative Commons Attribution 4.0)

 



A brand new article by Ota et al, entitled Tap dancing birds: the multimodal mutual courtship display of males and females in a socially monogamous songbird, appeared yesterday in Scientific Reports. Here's the abstract:

According to classical sexual selection theory, complex multimodal courtship displays have evolved in males through female choice. While it is well-known that socially monogamous songbird males sing to attract females, we report here the first example of a multimodal dance display that is not a uniquely male trait in these birds. In the blue-capped cordon-bleu (Uraeginthus cyanocephalus), a socially monogamous songbird, both sexes perform courtship displays that are characterised by singing and simultaneous visual displays. By recording these displays with a high-speed video camera, we discovered that in addition to bobbing, their visual courtship display includes quite rapid step-dancing, which is assumed to produce vibrations and/or presumably non-vocal sounds. Dance performances did not differ between sexes but varied among individuals. Both male and female cordon-bleus intensified their dance performances when their mate was on the same perch. The multimodal (acoustic, visual, tactile) and multicomponent (vocal and non-vocal sounds) courtship display observed was a combination of several motor behaviours (singing, bobbing, stepping). The fact that both sexes of this socially monogamous songbird perform such a complex courtship display is a novel finding and suggests that the evolution of multimodal courtship display as an intersexual communication should be considered. (Reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0).

Odyssean Ornithology

Bar-headed Goose (Anser indicus)

Photo: J.M. Garg (Wikimedia Commons)

Migration, in the broadest sense, is the regular movement that animals make between specific destinations. Many organisms migrate: Blue Wildebeest (Connochaetes taurinus) across the Serengeti, Hoary Bats (Lasiurus cinereus) between the Canadian boreal forest and Mexican deserts, Red Crabs (Gecarcoidea natalis) over Christmas Island, as fascinating as these migrations are, its birds that really inspire awe, because they are the most extreme migrants of all.

Birds can move, that's for sure. Some Wandering Albatross (Diomedia exulans) fly 267 000 km in their first year of life alone! Though not a migration in the strictest sense, the peregrinations of a yearling albatross are a kind of long-ranging foraging mission; conventional avian migrations are hardly less impressive. They range from short seasonal movements up and down mountain slopes to extraordinary flights spanning continents and crossing hemispheres. It's those long journeys, those incredible feats of endurance, that I find most fascinating.

I have the good fortune of living at one of the best locations in Canada for observing bird migration, Long Point, Ontario. Long Point reaches 30 km into the tumultuous waters of Lake Erie, funneling migratory birds into fantastic concentrations at its tip, before they make the flight across the open lake. Long Point has been the focus of bird migration studies for nearly 60 years and more than one million birds have been banded there, providing an unprecedented  data set on migration patterns, population dynamics and general ecology. The discoveries made at Long Point and by researchers at other migration hotspots all over the world have helped us appreciate just how incredible the bird migrations can be.

Arctic Tern (Sterna paradisaea)

Photo: Andreas Trepte (Wikimedia Commons)

Perhaps the most famous long-distance migrant is the Arctic Tern (Sterna paradisaea), which can cover between 30 000 km and 50 000 km annually. Arctic Terns from eastern Canada and Greenland leave their tundra breeding grounds and proceed southeast across the Atlantic. Upon reaching the west African coast they turn south, ranging into the Southern Ocean. Nearing the bottom of the globe, they follow prevailing winds eastward, with many young-of-the-year birds joining Southern Giant Petrels (Macronectes giganteus) in completely circling Antarctica. Almost two years later, the young terns find themselves back in the southern Atlantic, from whence they proceed north for their first breeding season. Adult terns usually don't circle Antarctica, but do travel widely in the Southern Ocean before making the 40 day journey back to the arctic. Given that they may live for two decades, some Arctic Terns may cover an astounding one million kilometres in migration.

Another seabird, the Sooty Shearwater (Puffinus griseus) makes an annual migration that out paces even the Arctic Tern, taking it across virtually the entire Pacific Ocean. Sooty Shearwaters that breed in New Zealand winter in the north Pacific, getting there by tracing a 64 000 km figure eight across the ocean. Some birds will travel almost 200 km per day when riding favorable tailwinds. Other seabirds can travel even greater distances; a tagged Northern Royal Albatross (Diomedia epomophora) traveled an astonishing 1800 km in just 
24 hours!

As a long-distance runner, I have to train; I just can't get up one day and run for 20 km. But birds, they have no problem setting off on a flight that would make a human endurance athlete wilt, even after months of training. Barnacle Geese (Branta leucopsis) often fly for only a few minutes per day in the weeks before migration. Perhaps they are resting up; likely they are trying to avoid any kind of unnecessary flight while laden with the massive fat deposits which they have acquired in preparation for migration. Yet one day, flocks of geese ascend en masse into the sky, traveling non-stop for up to 13 hours at a stretch. They'll stop only a handful of times on their 3000 km journey across Europe. There are no practice flights, no warm-up calisthenics. The only preparation most birds do is to become absurdly overweight, exactly the opposite of a human athlete.

Bar-tailed Godwit (Limosa lapponica)

Photo: J.J. Harrison (Wikimedia Commons)

For almost all birds massive weight gain is absolutely critical to a successful migration. This is particularly true for long-distance migrants that very seldom stop to rest or refuel, or that don't stop at all, like Bar-tailed Godwits (Limosa lapponica) which breed in eastern Siberia and Alaska. On a tailwind, they speed over the Pacific Ocean at 100 km/h, but even at such an impressive velocity Bar-tailed Godwits must fly for 175 uninterrupted hours, or more than seven days, to cover the 10 400 km between their northern breeding grounds and New Zealand, where they spend the nonbreeding season. Like other extreme migrants, godwits pile on fat before their flight, doubling their body weight, from 285 g before fuel-loading to almost 600 g when fattened up. Perhaps most astounding is that even after a week of non-stop flight, some birds still maintain enough body fat that they could theoretically continue flying on those fuel reserves for thousands of kilometres more. This extra fat probably acts as a reserve, allowing godwits to complete their migration even if they encounter severe headwinds which would significantly slow their progress. In order to make room for enough fat on board, godwits must reduce the size of their internal organs. Reproductive structures nearly disappear. Other organs become smaller and more compact, and fat fills all available space. The northward journey of Bar-tailed Godwits is impressive as well. They fly in two stages: leaving New Zealand, they fly up to 10 000 km non-stop to Korea, Japan and the Yellow Sea coast, where they refuel. The comparatively short second leg of their migration takes them on their Alaskan and eastern Siberian breeding grounds.

Another population of Bar-tailed Godwits, those that breed in central and western Siberia, travel 10 000 km between there and their west African wintering grounds. For these godwits, the strategy is somewhat different from their Alaskan-eastern Siberian counterparts. The central-western Siberian godwits make the trip in a series of flights between suitable feeding areas. Birds leaving Guinea-Bissau at dusk can reach their first suitable stopping ground, the mud flats of Mauritania's Banc d'Arguin, by lunch time the next day. That first leg is a direct flight of 1000 km. Another 1000 km flight brings them to estuaries in Morocco, and 1000 km beyond that, the mudflats and marshes of the Loire and Gironde Rivers in France. A more modest 600 km leg brings the godwits as far north as the Netherlands and Denmark where they'll spend a significant amount of time refuelling, piling on the fat, along the shores of the Wadden Sea. Their Siberian breeding grounds await, for some as far as 4000 km away, a distance that most godwits will cover handily in one last non-stop flight.

Bar-tailed Godwits migrating between Guinea-Bissau and Siberia have to cross one of the most inhospitable regions on Earth, the Sahara Desert. They are not the only birds to do it, over 180 species make the crossing on their annual migrations. It's a 1500 km traverse that is dangerous in the extreme and certainly one of the most impressive overland journeys that birds make. Daytime temperatures throughout most of the Sahara during the migration seasons can exceed 38^oC. The temperature of the sand itself can skyrocket to a horrendous 70^oC. This is a challenging environment for any organism.

It would seem that a logical way to tackle a desert crossing as formidable as the Sahara is oasis hopping, but its a strategy that is used by only a small number of birds. One problem with oasis hopping today is that many of the once productive and verdant oases have been highly altered for growing Date Palm (Phoenix dactylifera) and other crops; most migrants would be unlikely to find suitable stopover habitat among the industrial-scale plantations. Garden Warblers (Sylvia borin) and Lesser Whitethroats (Sylvia curruca) will sometimes seek the shelter of oases or even rest in the shade of rocks in the open desert, but in general it would seem that most birds prefer to cross the desert in one long flight. Another potential route through the desert, The Nile River Valley with its riparian vegetation and planted urban landscapes, would seem to be a preferable route to crossing the barren wastes of the Sahara proper. It is however used by only a small proportion of trans-Saharan migrants.

Trans-Saharan migrants face different challenges in spring than in autumn. Luckily for spring migrants the Mediterranean coast of north Africa is green thanks to winter rains, allowing birds the opportunity to refuel after the long desert flight. In autumn the Sahal on the Sahara's southern fringe, is at the end of its wet season, a time when there are ponds brimming with water, green vegetation and insect prey. The wet Sahal can effectively reduce the flight over arid terrain by some 200 km in autumn. During the spring migration, the Sahal is reaching the end of its dry season, offering little in the way of refueling opportunities for most species. Instead, northbound birds must accumulate fat reserves before entering the Sahal. Prevailing winds also create different challenges for spring and autumn migrants. In spring migrants face headwinds that can require flying above two kilometres to avoid them. Autumn migrants have the benefit of tailwinds pushing them south across the desert.

Besides the risk of overheating, the other major physiological stress desert migrants face is dehydration. Burning of fat alone can lead to a moisture deficit, which some species seem to offset by also burning muscle tissue, which has a higher proportion of water. Eurasian Golden Orioles (Oriolus oriolus) use fat for about two thirds of their fuel and muscle for the remainder. In the process they gain only about three quarters the amount of energy as if using fat alone, but also gain a quarter more water, thus staving off dehydration.

Western Yellow Wagtail (Motacilla flava)

Photo: Frebeck (Wikimedia Commons)

Many species that cross the Sahara also cross the Mediterranean Sea, which itself requires another 1200 km of non-stop flying or island hopping. Some species like Sedge Warbler (Acrocephalus schoenobaenus), Western Yellow Wagtail (Motacilla flava) and Common Cuckoo (Cuculus canorus) cross both the desert and the sea in one non-stop flight of 2500 km. Sedge Warblers have the peculiar behaviour of establishing all of the fat reserves they require for their autumn desert-sea crossing in Britain and northern Europe. They probably hardly feed at all between northern Europe and the Sahal, south of the Sahara. The similarly-sized Willow Warbler (Phylloscopus trochilus) can take 44-74 hours of non-stop flight to complete the desert-sea journey, depending on tailwinds.

Sahara desert migrants are facing the prospect of an even longer journey in coming years. Human-induced desertification along the southern edge of the Sahara is increasing the distance migrants need to cover in order to reach suitable resting and refueling habitat at the end of their flight. British Barn Swallows (Hirundo rustica) in particular are thought to be declining in part because of the increased distances they have to travel during migration.

Deserts aren't the only barriers land migrants cross. Mountain ranges pose another challenge. The most famous mountain migrants are Bar-headed Geese (Anser indicus), which nest on the Tibetan Plateau and spend the nonbreeding season in India, on the other side of the Himalayas. The trip between Tibet and India requires Bar-headed Geese to fly directly over the highest part of the Himalayas, ascending to heights of 8 km above sea level. At this altitude, the air is extremely cold, sometimes as low as -50^oC and oxygen is scarce, less than a third of what it is at sea level. This is the so-called death zone, the dreaded altitude at which human mountain climbers suffer extreme physical stress. Yet Bar-headed Geese can make the journey over the Himalayas with virtually no time to acclimatize. Heading north in spring, geese leaving the lowlands of India may gain over five kilometres of elevation in their first day of flying. Demoiselle Cranes make a similarly high crossing of the Hindu Kush on their migrations between Asia and Africa.

Another goose, the Brant (Branta bernicla) makes an impressive journey that requires it to travel east-west across some 5000 km of the most inhospitable terrain and ocean on Earth. Brant fly from their breeding grounds in eastern Canada to wintering areas in Ireland. Their route transverses part of the Arctic Ocean, the Greenland icecap, and much of the north Atlantic Ocean. As Brant climb in altitude some 2500 m from sea level to the top of the Greenland icecap, they do so at a very slow rate, probably out of necessity, because they are extremely fat at this point in their migration. They may even stop while climbing, resting on the icecap itself. By comparison, their descent down the far side of the icecap is swift and without rest stops.

Though most bird migrations are made under the power of flight, some birds like Emu (Dromaius novaehollandiae) walk, while penguins and auks swim. Among the auks, it was the now extinct Great Auk (Pinquinus impennis) that undertook the longest purely swimming migration. Great Auks breeding in the northwestern Atlantic wintered as far south as Florida, while those breeding in the northeastern Atlantic wintered as far south as Spain. Some Great Auks might have swum up to 3000 km round trip during their annual migration. Many of the smaller (and still extant) auks swim up to 40 km per day on their migrations which are a mix of swimming and flight.

Amur Falcon (Falco amurensis)

Photo: ChanduBandi (Wikimedia Commons)

While seabirds cruise around the oceans with impunity, resting on the water when necessary, land birds who undertake open water crossings don't have the same luxury, making their travels even more impressive. Amur Falcons (Falco amurensis) travel 4000 km over the Indian Ocean between India and southern Africa, the longest over-water crossing of any raptor on Earth. The falcons may stop on islands when they come across them, but for many of the birds that journey is completed in one fell swoop. Among the most impressive songbirds in this regard is the Blackpoll Warbler (Setophaga striata). Blackpoll Warblers fitted with light-detecting geolocators have been found to fly up to 2770 km non-stop between the Atlantic coasts of Canada and the United States and the Greater Antilles. From there the Blackpoll Warblers make their way south to overwintering grounds in northern South America. It is possible that some Blackpoll Warblers could fly even farther, with the fastest birds theoretically having enough fuel on board to travel 3800 km without refueling, a flight that could require 80-90 hours of continuous over water flight. Blackpolls are joined on their epic route by other trans-Atlantic migrants including American Golden-Plover (Pluvialis dominica), Hudsonian Godwit (Limosa haemastica) and White-rumped Sandpiper (Calidris fuscicollis); their larger size means that these shorebirds likely complete the journey in half the time of a Blackpoll Warbler.

Northern Wheatears (Oenanthe oenanthe) are also incredible travelers, in fact they likely hold the records for the longest trans-oceanic flight and the longest absolute migration distance of any songbird. They are the only songbirds in North America that regularly winter in Africa. For eastern North American birds, getting there entails covering 3400 km between their breeding grounds in the Canadian arctic and the United Kingdom, much if not all of that distance entirely over the raging waters of the north Atlantic Ocean. Next, they join European breeding wheatears and fly south, crossing the Mediterranean and the Sahara to overwinter in central and southern Africa. It's these wheatears that probably hold the record for the longest overwater migration of any songbird, eclipsing even the herculean efforts of the Blackpoll Warbler. For Northern Wheatears that breed in Alaska, their journey involves crossing the whole of Asia before reaching their east African non-breeding sites 14,600 km away. They take about three months to make the journey in autumn and two months in spring, meaning that they are migrating for almost half of the year. These Alaskan breeders hold the record for longest migration by a songbird.

Songbirds are small, but hummingbirds are smaller still. Tiny as they are some species do cover vast distances on migration. The most highly migratory of them, the Ruby-throated Hummingbird (Archilochus colubris), makes an impressive 850 km flight across the Gulf of Mexico on its way to and from its nonbreeding grounds in Central America. The myth that hummingbirds migrate tucked within the feathers of a goose still persists today; in fact I was asked about its veracity just last night by a visitor to my banding station. Nature is full of weird and wonderful things, but hummingbirds migrating on the backs of geese is simply apocryphal. To me, its even more amazing that hummingbirds undertake such a long migration on their own. Indeed, all of the examples I've given are almost unbelievable feats of endurance and navigation and they're being undertaken by the very creatures we see every day.