Taken while on the ferry to Cumberland Island.
Cumberland Island can only be reached by boat (I guess you could swim. Or like a bird,
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Bad Bird Photo of the Week
Taken while on the ferry to Cumberland Island.
Cumberland Island can only be reached by boat (I guess you could swim. Or like a bird,take the ferry, err I mean fly.) There is a ferry that makes two trips a day from St Marys. Or you can take a private boat. It is a pleasant ride, take a cup of coffee and your binos. Enjoy!
Taken while on the ferry to Cumberland Island.
Cumberland Island can only be reached by boat (I guess you could swim. Or like a bird,
Monday, March 14, 2011
Live Oaks
"... she probably meant the trail through the live oak forest ..."
Is there one through the dead oak forest?
"... the wood from live oak trees was used to build Old Ironsides ..."
How did they keep them alive?
"... the British claimed all the live oak trees as property of the king ..."
Who got the dead ones?
-- Rangers at the Cumberland Island National Seashore
-- Thoughts of yours truly
Until recently, I was unfamiliar with the term "live oak". So when the friendly rangers at the Cumberland Island National Seashore used the term, I figured it was a colloquialism.
So when I asked Rene, who had been a ranger at Cumberland Island for thirty years, what species they were and she responded, "live oak", it was a bit of a "who's on first" moment. Eventually we got it sorted out. "Live Oak" is a term used to describe any oak that is evergreen, keeping its leaves year round. Southern Live Oak is the common name for the species on the island.
The trees have huge squat trunks and a massive system of branches, some which grow down to the ground for support, spreading widely. Great for climbing! (Of course I did.)
So while I understand the name, trees without leaves appearing dead, while those with leaves appearing live, I think live is a doubly excellent name because these trees are alive with other organisms.
The most notable example is Spanish Moss, an epiphyte, that while not a parasite can have ill effects on the host tree. It blocks the light that would otherwise reach the tree's leaves and can add a substantial weight load, devastating in a hurricane.
But it sure is pretty.
And the forest is home for a variety of animals. Including ...
Horses.
Armadillos.
I spent the better part of seven hours exploring and experienced so very little of the island. There are great sandy beaches, empty of people, populated with only birds. Miles and miles to walk in splendid solitude.
The center of the island is a natural area, no road, no cars, no bikes, no homes. I could spend several days wandering there.
There are wetlands to kayak.
Ruins and historical sites to visit.
There is even a bed and breakfast on the island. (Pricy though, cheapest room $395/night. Maybe when I win the lottery ... ). So next visit it'll be the camp ground for me.
I can't wait to get back and explore some more.
"... she probably meant the trail through the live oak forest ..."
Is there one through the dead oak forest?
"... the wood from live oak trees was used to build Old Ironsides ..."
How did they keep them alive?
"... the British claimed all the live oak trees as property of the king ..."
Who got the dead ones?
-- Rangers at the Cumberland Island National Seashore
-- Thoughts of yours truly
Southern Live Oak, Quercus virginiana
Until recently, I was unfamiliar with the term "live oak". So when the friendly rangers at the Cumberland Island National Seashore used the term, I figured it was a colloquialism.
Rene Noe, a Friendly Ranger
So when I asked Rene, who had been a ranger at Cumberland Island for thirty years, what species they were and she responded, "live oak", it was a bit of a "who's on first" moment. Eventually we got it sorted out. "Live Oak" is a term used to describe any oak that is evergreen, keeping its leaves year round. Southern Live Oak is the common name for the species on the island.
The trees have huge squat trunks and a massive system of branches, some which grow down to the ground for support, spreading widely. Great for climbing! (Of course I did.)
Branches
More Branches
The most notable example is Spanish Moss, an epiphyte, that while not a parasite can have ill effects on the host tree. It blocks the light that would otherwise reach the tree's leaves and can add a substantial weight load, devastating in a hurricane.
But it sure is pretty.
Just Add Water
Ferns, such as this resurrection fern, and mistletoe also find a home on the branches. Adding to both the biomass and beauty of the tree.
The dead parts of the live oak also support life, fungi as shown here, but also insects, squirrels (I had one very upset with me for some reason. Alas it wouldn't pose for a picture.), and woodpeckers (I heard, but did not see, pileated and red-bellied).
An Easy One
Other birds make use of the trees. (I delighted a group of birders from Michigan by ID'd a mocking bird, an apparently rare bird in them there parts.)
Delighted Birder
There are even plants growing in the ridges in the bark.
Gnarly
And the forest is home for a variety of animals. Including ...
Horses.
Armadillos.
~~~~~~~~~~
I spent the better part of seven hours exploring and experienced so very little of the island. There are great sandy beaches, empty of people, populated with only birds. Miles and miles to walk in splendid solitude.
The center of the island is a natural area, no road, no cars, no bikes, no homes. I could spend several days wandering there.
There are wetlands to kayak.
Ruins and historical sites to visit.
There is even a bed and breakfast on the island. (Pricy though, cheapest room $395/night. Maybe when I win the lottery ... ). So next visit it'll be the camp ground for me.
I can't wait to get back and explore some more.
Come On, Let's Go
Sunday, March 13, 2011
What's in a Name?
It's not from Spain.
It's not a moss.
It does make for enchanted forests.
~~~~~~~~~~
These, and the horse images in the previous post, are from Cumberland Island National Seashore.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Cloudy Night
Lonely red lights dot the observing field, telescopes stand unattended. Silent sentries gathering no starlight.
Disappointment growing, we sit telling tales of other nights, better, worse, different, same.
Still hoping.
Stars winking out of sucker holes. It's clearing! It's not. It is! It isn't.
We wait still hoping.
The group thins, chairs empty, hopes waning. Some of us wait, inertia now.
But still hoping.
One cloud lit up, curiously bright. Stationary. Flickering. Strange. What is that? Aurora? Aliens? Hand of god?
(which god?)
(which hand?)
Transfixed we watch. Patterns flickering. Intellectually challenged We now welcome the clouds. Needing more data.
(we're a nerdy bunch)
We search for answers. A fishing boat, trawling offshore? Nope.
Customs searching for smugglers? Nope.
Cars on the bridge? Nope.
More folks gather. Transfixed. Brainstorming. Consensus emerges.
Prosaic, a spotlit flag. Over at the scout camp. Curiosity satiated we still watch. Still fascinated.
The rainbow explained is still beautiful.
Lonely red lights dot the observing field, telescopes stand unattended. Silent sentries gathering no starlight.
Disappointment growing, we sit telling tales of other nights, better, worse, different, same.
Still hoping.
Stars winking out of sucker holes. It's clearing! It's not. It is! It isn't.
We wait still hoping.
The group thins, chairs empty, hopes waning. Some of us wait, inertia now.
But still hoping.
One cloud lit up, curiously bright. Stationary. Flickering. Strange. What is that? Aurora? Aliens? Hand of god?
(which god?)
(which hand?)
Transfixed we watch. Patterns flickering. Intellectually challenged We now welcome the clouds. Needing more data.
(we're a nerdy bunch)
We search for answers. A fishing boat, trawling offshore? Nope.
Customs searching for smugglers? Nope.
Cars on the bridge? Nope.
More folks gather. Transfixed. Brainstorming. Consensus emerges.
Prosaic, a spotlit flag. Over at the scout camp. Curiosity satiated we still watch. Still fascinated.
The rainbow explained is still beautiful.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
At The Shore
In January ...
Gulls are year round residents.
In winter they can't steal french fries from bennies and need fend for themselves.
Bummer for the crabs.
They're also a bit camera shy.
Another winter visitor, snow buntings in my experience are generally very camera shy. Usually seen in small flocks, fleeing as one approaches.
These two were atypical, relaxed in front of the camera, letting us approach to within ten feet. Very cool.
I grew up at the shore, four blocks from the water, but have always preferred the empty beaches of fall and winter to the crowds of summer. Perhaps growing up in New York City metropolitan area, at some of the closest beaches to the city, with the attendant traffic jams, litter, and utter lack of space on the beaches, soured me a bit. But I'd rather spend the day in the company of a few friends and whichever species of wildlife which would care to join us. How about you, what do you prefer?
In January ...
Gulls are year round residents.
In winter they can't steal french fries from bennies and need fend for themselves.
Bummer for the crabs.
More bad news for the crabs ...
Loons are winter visitors, heading north before the crowds return.
Another winter visitor, snow buntings in my experience are generally very camera shy. Usually seen in small flocks, fleeing as one approaches.
These two were atypical, relaxed in front of the camera, letting us approach to within ten feet. Very cool.
*****
I grew up at the shore, four blocks from the water, but have always preferred the empty beaches of fall and winter to the crowds of summer. Perhaps growing up in New York City metropolitan area, at some of the closest beaches to the city, with the attendant traffic jams, litter, and utter lack of space on the beaches, soured me a bit. But I'd rather spend the day in the company of a few friends and whichever species of wildlife which would care to join us. How about you, what do you prefer?
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