Chuck's Blog

     "Red Katydid" might sound like an entomological oxymoron but it’s a real critter…and that’s a bit easier to say than the Central Texas Leaf Katydid or Truncated True Katydid or Paracyrtophyllus robustus, all of which refer to the same thing.

 

    Moreover, they’ve made regional news recently because of an outbreak of the species west of San Antonio in Medina County and nearby areas.  I hasten to add that this is not an invasive species from some distant continent.  In fact it is a native species--actually an endemic Texas species like twist-leaf yucca or the Golden-cheeked Warbler--and this is a natural occurrence.  Every few years or so, local populations of this katydid build up to what might be considered nuisance levels.  This is not an uncommon phenomenon when certain insect populations are recovering in good years after a stretch of drought.

     From a dietary standpoint, they tend to be oak eaters (even though the one in Lee Elliott's photo to the right is on a juniper).  During such outbreaks, they can defoliate acres of trees.  However troublesome that may sound initially, it is apparently a very transient phenomenon since the katydids die off nearly as quickly as they arose and then the oak trees heave a big sigh of releaf…ooooh, sorry about that…I mean a big sigh of relief, and then put on a fresh crop of foliage.

 

 

 

    When I first heard about the Medina outbreak a few weeks ago, I emailed a request to staff and the various field researchers working on the Refuge to let me know of any sightings of this species in our area, thinking we could serve as an early warning for an outbreak that might occur here.  Within hours, researcher David Morgan sent me a picture of a nice pink katydid and said, “They’re all over the trees at the Flying X and on the Rodgers tract.”  So much for early warning.  Happily, they have not defoliated us quite yet.  [Update: July 8, 2010.  Thanks to everyone for notifying me that you are seeing these katydids.  I have all the reports I need; no more messages or forwarded pictures are needed!]

 

 

 

 

    The most intriguing thing about this particular katydid is that it occurs in basically two color forms:

In a regular year in normal numbers, these ‘dids are green like so many of their Tettigoniidae brethren*.  (That’s the family of true katydids--I just felt like showing off.)  However, when populations build up to these outbreak levels, the predominant color morph is pink or red:

I haven’t delved into the scientific literature to learn why or how this happens, but like so many other growth issues, it probably has something to do with hormones and diet.  I’m just guessing.

     You can learn a lot more about this katydid on one of Mike Quinn’s excellent invertebrate web pages here.  A recent news article on the event in the southern Edwards Plateau can be found in the June 7^th issue of the AgriLife News from the Texas AgriLife Extension Service.

     These pretty blue flowers belie a sinister potential: This is blueweed or Viper’s bugloss (Echium vulgare). a noxious weed in the Borage family, found in pastures and hayfields in the East and Midwest.  It may pose an incipient threat to farming and ranching in Central Texas.

     With the exception of one native wildflower, blueweed is not easy to confuse with anything else:

  

Non-native, Invasive Blueweed or Viper's Bugloss:  Eliminate "WIth Extreme Prejudice"!

     The annual or biennial blueweed plants grow to about 1 to 3 ft tall and are bristly all over like a bull nettle.  Caution:  Don’t try to pick or handle this plant without leather gloves!  The leaves are simple, narrow, and oblong to lance-shaped (compare with native "Blue curls", below).  Blueweed blooms from April to September with masses of sky blue flowers about a half-inch across which are arrayed in coiled or curled spikes on the leafy upper stem.  You can see more images of blueweed on the Wikimedia Commons here.  Probably the only native species with which it could be confused is Blue curls (Phacelia congesta):

  

Native Blue curls:  DON'T PICK THIS!

     Note the complex lobed and toothed leaves of Blue curls as well as the flat-topped arrangement of the coils of lavender flowers on a bare stalk.  Blue curls is typically found at the shady edge of dense woods, often in sandier sites or creek banks.  By contrast, in our area blueweed has shown up as an invader of highly disturbed sites such as caliche fill, gravel parking lots, and roadsides.  Thus far, it doesn't seem to compete well in a healthy native grassland.  Let's hope it remains confined by our tough native flora.

     Blueweed and I have a history.  In early June 1997, Eddie Hertz and I were looking for remnant prairie plants along the railroad right-of-way on Texas 29 between Liberty Hill and Burnet when we spotted a couple of clumps of blue flowers that neither of us recognized.  That was about 5 miles west of Bertram on the north side of the road.  We stopped and picked a specimen for the Refuge collection.  When we got back to the office and identified the plant, red flags went up.  Our standard reference work at that time, the Manual of the Vascular Plants of Texas by Correll and Johnston had this ominous description:

     “Native of Europe, long ago introduced into the e. U.S. and now a serious pest in

the Northeast and Middle Atlantic States, west to South Dakota, Kansas,

and reported (but not seen by us) from Texas.”

     Eddie and I returned to the spot and ripped up both of the two plants on the roadside, bagged them carefully for the trash, and scanned the area for other plants.  We saw none.  We notified several botanists and herbaria at the time of our discovery.  We checked that spot on TX 29 for the next few seasons and saw no more blueweed.

     Fast foreward to May 2010.  Someone spotted a pretty blue flower in the yard of the new Victory Baptist Church on Texas 29….about 5 miles west of Bertram....and brought it to the attention of Sammye and Mike Childers.  They did some research, identified the plant, and red flags went up once again.  Unfortunately, a couple of acres of the church property had the pretty blue flowers all over them.  Clearly, Eddie and I had overlooked some plants which were probably across a fence on private property back in 1997.  In recent weeks, volunteer efforts have been organized to put a dent in the population of blueweed on the church property.  The species doesn’t seem to have spread far in 13 years, but it’s already making conservation groups and the county extension agent a bit nervous.  There are plans to start an herbicide treatment soon and future volunteer control efforts will probably be needed.  I suggest keeping in touch with the Highland Lakes Chapters of the Texas Master Naturalists and the Native Plant Society of Texas for further information.

     IMPORTANT NOTICE:  If you think you’ve seen this flower on a roadside, ranch, or any other place, please notify the AgriLife Extension Agent for your county.  Here are the local contacts for the Refuge area:

          Burnet County Extension Office

          512-756-7463

          Burnet-TX@tamu.edu

          Travis County Extension Office

          512-854-9600

          Travis-TX@tamu.edu

          Williamson County Extension Office

          512-943-3300

          Williams@ag.tamu.edu

Obviously, if you observe this species on any Refuge tract or in our immediate area, please notify me ASAP.

     On Friday, May 21, I took a break from work and from the Texas Hill Country and went wandering south of Austin to explore the birdlife in the area around Seguin and Guadalupe County.  I should mention--and this will come as something of a shock to some of you--that I don't often go birdwatching during my time off.  I watch birds...and everything else in the natural world...in my free time, but I had mostly gotten out of the habit of chasing birds.

     But this Spring has been an exception to my sedentary ways of recent years.  I have been inspired by the "Texas Century Club" effort of the Texas Ornithological Society to see at least 100 species of birds in each Texas county.  I'm not aiming at all 254 Texas counties, but I thought I'd see if I could meet that mark in each of the 15 counties which make up the bulk of the "Austin Area Checklist Circle"--the area within a 60-mile radius of the Texas Capitol building.  Perambulation in moderation, so to speak.  But that's still a huge area to explore--about 11,309 square miles if you do the math.

     For Guadalupe County, I could find mention of only 53 species of birds I had seen in past excursions.  I had passed through the county en route to other destinations innumerable times, especially along Texas 123 racing towards the Texas Coastal Bend and its abundant birdlife.  But Seguin and environs had rarely enticed me to stop and explore.  So that Friday, I was going to make amends for past transgressions--literally--and see what avian offerings the area had.

     I had done my homework: I studied county road maps and Google Earth, chatted with local birders, and scoured previous postings on TexBirds to see what might await.  I had a plan...  Maybe that was the problem: I had a "plan".  [Insert your favorite cliché here.]

Max Starke Park in Seguin, one of my birding destinations.

     I got a very early start, arriving in the eastern corner of the county pre-dawn, early enough to hear a Common Nighthawk in its last foraging bout over an open pasture and to flush a Chuck-will's-widow off a paved county road--the last pavement I would see for several hours.  Along FM 1150, then onto Nixon Road, then off the pavement onto Dix Road and then to Nash Creek Road which is a major connecting route to, ... well, to the other end of FM 1150.  I stopped several times to listen to the dawn chorus.  By 6:30 a.m., even before the sun came up, I had tallied 20 species or so.  Northern Cardinal, Bewick's Wren, Mourning Dove, Painted Bunting, Ash-throated Flycatcher ... Wait a minute!  That's not an Ash-throat singing, it's a Brown-crested Flycatcher, its South Texas cousin and one of the rarest breeding birds on this southern fringe of the Austin checklist circle.  Woo-hoo!  That got a big asterisk in my field journal.

    Then somewhere between that Brown-crested Flycatcher and an anonymous farm gate about 2 miles down the road, I lost that field journal.  I apparently made a note about another dawn singer, set the journal on the hood or bumper of my truck, got distracted by another bird or some darned wild thing on the roadside, and then jumped in the truck and drove away.   Since I was scribbling notes in the journal at almost every listening stop, it was only a few minutes later that I realized I was missing the journal.  I backtracked on the road and couldn't find it.  I spent the next 3 hours walking that two-mile stretch of road and never found it.  A yellow-green journal in a sea of yellow-green foliage.  I was envisioning a cow in an adjacent pasture stomping my journal deep into the mud, or a county mower shredding it like so much other mulch on the roadside.

     Well, to make a long story just somewhat shorter, a passerby--a local resident on Nash Creek Road--retrieved my journal and mailed it back to me just a few days later.  It was probably just a bit of odd timing; he'd found the journal in the middle of the road but hadn't realized that the journal's owner was that out-of-place stranger a short ways down the road, raising his binoculars and staring off into the distance.  No harm, no foul.  Just great consternation on my part for several days.

     I mention all this just to get around to the topic at hand:  What would have been lost had that journal never turned up?  It was the latest of 63 volumes of my field notes, but it was less than half filled with my scribbles.  I had just started the volume on April 1 and had already photocopied all the Refuge field notes for April.  I hadn't copied my own personal birdwatching notes for other April days, nor had any of May's notes been duplicated.  Would that Brown-crested Flycatcher on Nash Creek Road have disappeared into anonymity?  Of course not.  It is more a measure of my unhealthy reliance on my journal-crutch.  Precisely 27 pages of my life's work, spanning just over 21 days, would have been lost.  And for that, I wasted three perfectly good hours on an early morning birding jaunt, and several days of mourning.

     For the record, here are some of the earth-shaking, history-making data for May that might never have seen the light of day, some of which were fortunately documented by photographs:

--  May 2:  I jotted down a second-hand report from David Maple that he'd seen a male Lark Bunting in breeding plumage near the Barho tract, a rare spring sighting.

--  May 3:  I briefly resighted a Lazuli Bunting that Rob Iski had found on April 29 on the Post Oak Creek Trail; first I'd ever seen on the Refuge.

--  May 3:  A male Bell's Vireo was singing on territory near the photo blind, the fifth species of breeding vireo on the Refuge this year (along with Black-capped, White-eyed, Red-eyed, and Yellow-throated).

--  May 7:  I found a new karst feature, a hole in the ground, on the Rodgers tract and named it the "Grape Joint".  At Doeskin Ranch in the afternoon, I discovered that I had missed the blooming of our Shooting Star flowers along the Rimrock Trail; make a note to look for them in mid-April.

--  May 9:  SCA Student Elizabeth Lesley found her dog playing with a dog-slobber-covered Coral Snake in her yard.

--  May 10:  On the Martin tract, an Eastern Hognose Snake feigned death for me like only a hognose snake can.

--  May 14:  Visited a large private ranch in n.w. Burnet County where conservation banking is being proposed.  On the distinctive Paleozoic limestones in that region, it's difficult to figure out the dynamics of the warbler and vireo habitat, but our colleagues in the regulatory side of FWS want some answers.

--  May 16:  Helped with a breeding bird survey on the Bamberger Ranch and spent the rest of the day birding in Blanco County to pad my county list there.  Best bird of the day:  Cactus Wren near the community of Sandy.

--  May 17:  Lots of painted lichen moths and bird-dropping mimic moths at the porch light at the office in the morning.

  

  

Three or four (or five or six?) moth species,

all with the same survival strategy.

--  May 20:  Photographed a huge female Dobsonfly at our office door.

--  May 21:  Guadalupe County birding trip:  ***Brown-crested Flycatcher (2+ singing in dawn chorus)...

* * * * *

Below The Line:

     Oh, How did my "Century Club" effort on the quiet roads of Guadalupe County turn out?  I almost met my goal: By the end of the day, I had added 40 new species to my county list, ending the (frustrating) day at 93 species.  I missed Blue Jay, Orchard Oriole, and Indigo Bunting, leaving something for a future visit.

     In the wee hours of April 29, in the full-moon-lit night sky, a Northern Mockingbird decided at 3 a.m. to give a concert outside the window of the cabin on the Refuge where I was staying.  That’s not an uncommon event, well known to (sleepy and annoyed) Texans through the ages.  But do that around a Texas birder who primarily tallies species by ear, and you have an interesting dynamic: a pop quiz of bird sounds.  I am regularly amused and impressed when a mockingbird faithfully reproduces the territorial calls of some of our other local birds.  The titmouse, cardinal, bobwhite, blue jay, and chuck-will's-widow are always on the playlist.

     But every few years, I hear a mockingbird that clearly took lessons from a set of neighbors that bear a geographic imprint from a distant land.  With nothing better to do at 3 a.m., I took pen and paper, sat out on the porch, and began to tally the species I could recognize from this particular individual.  In rough order of the abundance of repeated calls or song phrases, here is some of what my ear detected from this mocker in a ten-minute sample (...and these weren’t rough approximations of the sounds; these were faithful, head-turning, CD-quality utterances of diagnostic sounds of these other critters):

     Black-crested Titmouse, 18 calls

     Ash-throated Flycatcher (2 different phrases), 15 calls

     * Great Kiskadee, 13+ calls

     * Green Jay, 12 calls

     * Long-billed Thrasher, 10 calls

     Northern Bobwhite (covey call), 10 calls

     Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, 10 calls

     * Audubon’s Oriole, 6 distinctive low whistles

     * Cactus Wren, 5 or more calls

     Greater Yellowlegs, 5 calls

     Western Kingbird/Scissortail, 5 calls (dawn calls)

     House Wren, 5 calls

     Ladder-backed Woodpecker, 4+ calls

     Barn Swallow, 4 calls

     Bewick’s Wren, 4 calls

     * Curve-billed Thrasher, 4 whistles

     American Kestrel, 4 calls

     Blue Jay/Red-shouldered Hawk, 4 calls

     * Couch’s Kingbird, 3 calls

     * Northern Beardless Tyrannulet (?), 2 calls

     Rock Wren (?), at least 2 calls

     A large portion of the sounds of any mockingbird are generic or unattributable to one bird species, and the concert goes by so fast that I’m sure I overlooked or misclassified some sounds, especially in my groggy 3 a.m. state of mind.  Notwithstanding these sources of potential error, there is just no way that this particular bird would have been exposed to this combined set of distinctive sounds outside of deep South Texas, especially the subtropical species marked by an asterisk (*).  Some of these birds range uncommonly as far north as San Antonio, but assuming that there might be some gross correlation of the frequency in the mockingbird’s repertoire with the commonness of the species around the songster, we’re talking about an origin in the Lower Rio Grande Valley at the closest (e.g. from the environs of a place such as Santa Ana NWR or Laguna Atascosa NWR).

     Mockingbirds are not generally regarded as a migratory species, but the young of all species relocate to begin lives of their own.  Those post-fledging dispersal distances for most birds may range from a few hundred yards to a few dozen miles, but there will always be the occasional traveler who decides to pack his bags and look for greener pastures, woodland, or forest, much farther afield.

     Here from Greg Lasley's Nature Photography website are some cropped images of a mockingbird surrounded by the probable South Texas neighbors from whom it apparently learned a portion of its repertoire.  Hover your cursor over each image to see the species name.

  

  

* * * * *

Below The Line:

     Now imagine you are charged with doing a bird census in a patch of South Texas brush where you will tally all species in the dawn chorus by the songs you hear around you…and the Northern Mockingbird is the most common and noisiest species within earshot.  I’ve been in this setting; it can be a complete frustration and a completely laughable task.  On a route through acacia-mesquite shrublands somewhere south of Uvalde many years ago, I routinely had results at each of several stops such as: “Mockingbird, 6+; Killdeer (?), Green Jay (?), Couch's Kingbird (1 or 3?), thrasher sp. (?), …”

     Another source of confusion on a South Texas breeding bird census comes from the roughly similar songs of the Northern Cardinal and its close relative, the Pyrrhuloxia, both of which can be abundant.  I was forced to make up a new “species” on my tally sheet--Cardiloxia--for songs I could not distinguish.

     Our 10th Balcones Songbird Festival, Friday-Monday, April 23-26, was an unqualified success with great attendance (over 500 people!) and a great array of birds. Despite some windy afternoon conditions, all of the target tours got looks at both Golden-cheeked Warblers and Black-capped Vireos. A total of 108 species of birds was reported in the Refuge area for the four days of the festival. We had a smidgeon of migration of some raptors, waterbirds, and passerines but no concentrations or fallout. Interestingly, the festival bird list started and ended with two of the rarest sightings. Tour guide Judy Bell woke up Friday morning to photograph male Lazuli Bunting at her trailer pad near the HQ, one of fewer than a half dozen reports ever of that species here. (See a link to her blog below.)  Then literally the last species added to the list on the last tour on Monday morning was a flyover of about 30 White-faced Ibis on RM 1174 just north of Doeskin Ranch--the first confirmed report of the species for the Refuge. Ironically, the ibis were spotted by participant Don Robinson (I hope I got that right), who purposefully left his binoculars behind so that he could just "look around and enjoy all the diversity" to be found on the tour. Thanks, Don, and thanks to Jim Baines for capturing that flight in digits! Below are some avian highlights:

     White-faced Ibis (flyover of 30 on RM 1174 just north of Doeskin Ranch)

     Mississippi Kite (a few singles and flocks)

     Northern Harrier (two singles, a bit late)

     Peregrine Falcon (4/25 at Eckhardt)

     Barred Owl (Simons oak savannah)

     Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (4/24; very late)

     Vermilion Flycatcher (brief sightings on Saturday)

     Black-capped Vireo (cooperative birds at Russell tract -- a CLOSED tract)

     Yellow-throated Vireo (nest near HQ over Post Oak Creek)

     Common Raven (young being fed in nest on Cow Creek)

     Cave Swallow (active colony on 1174 just N of Doeskin Ranch)

     Blue-gray Gnatcatcher (nest building on Post Oak Creek)

     Golden-cheeked Warblers (many areas; having a good year)

     sparrows - 12 species, but missed Canyon Towhee and Black-throated Sparrow

     Lazuli Bunting (one male seen twice on 4/23-24; photographed by Judy Bell)

 

 

     Painted Bunting (barely arrived in time for festival, but soon abundant)

     Yellow-headed Blackbird (one male posed at Flat Creek Winery, Friday evening)

     [Great-tailed Grackle - missed. Woo-hoo!!]

A few of the other conspicuous bird misses during the festival:  N. Bobwhite, Crested Caracara, Rock Pigeon, Common Poorwill, Belted Kingfisher, Orange-crowned Warbler, Dickcissel, Eastern Meadowlark, Baltimore Oriole.

Our list of herps (amphibians and reptiles) included:

     Blanchard's Cricket Frog

     Gulf Coast Toad

     Green Anole

     Texas Earless Lizard

     Red-eared Slider

     Texas Cooter

     Western Coachwhip

     Redstripe Ribbon Snake

     W. Diamondback Rattlesnake

The short mammal list (not counting road-kill carcasses) included Eastern Cottontail, Black-tailed Jackrabbit, Coyote, and White-tailed Deer.

The wildflower display and the butterflies were just eye-popping all weekend. (See, for example, Dwayne Litteer's gallery at the link below.)  Thank you, Mother Nature!

If you were at the festival and would like to provide a link to your photos, please send the link to me and I'll add it below.

--  Check out Judy Bell's blog, 'Travels with Emma' with photos of the Festival in her April folder on BlogSpot.

--  See more of Jim Baines' photos from the Festival on his BetterPhoto.com page.

--  Dwayne Litteer's extensive gallery of photos from this year on SmugMug.com.

--  A news story on the Festival in the North Lake Travis Log.

     I'm going to just slap a bunch of images in here from the past few weeks with some brief remarks about each set.  These will include, in no particular order: (a) Interior Secretary Ken Salazar, (b) photos of the early 2009 prescribed burn on the Rodgers tract and recent pictures of its recovery (pretty wildflowers, etc.), (c) some recent scenes from Post Oak Creek (sunrise, swimming hole, etc.), (d) images of a recent Hutton's Vireo detected on the Beard tract in late March, and (e) a menagerie of recent critters, many of which--particularly the collection of moths--were photographed at the porch light at nights at the Beard cabin.

    Just to prove I wasn't telling tall tails about the visit from a dignitary from Washington, D.C., here is proof of Secretary Salazar's visit.  We took a 45-minute walk in the late afternoon of March 11 along the Cactus Rocks Trail.  Frequent trail users will recognize the tilted (broken) juniper limb over our heads (at marker #9).

    In 2008, we began the heavy-handed process of restoring some shinnery habitat for the Black-capped Vireo on several tracts.  This initially involves crushing the scrubby 2nd-growth cedar and the standing shin oak, then running a prescribed burn through the resulting heavy slash.  This kind of fuel load can produce a VERY hot fire--don't try this at home--but we have learned that this is precisely was is necessary initially to start habitat on the best trajectory for the vireos.  Here's what a prescribed burn on the Rodgers East Plateau and its aftermath looked like in January 2009:

 

    The response of a Hill Country landscape even after a very hot burn like this is nothing short of miraculous.  All of the native perennial grasses and shrubs, as well as native trees such as oaks (3 species), Texas ash, cherry, and cedar elm have regrown vigorously in 2009 (a severe drought year) and the beginning of the current growing season.  The robustness of many of our native wildflowers is stunning on the new open ground:

  

   

    Here are some recent shots in the Post Oak Creek watershed.  A sunrise, a new-found swimming hole--er, I mean, natural pool, and a tenacious old juniper that refuses to let go of it's cliffside perch:

  

     When I encountered the Hutton's Vireo on our Christmas Bird Count last December, I was happy to have added another record of this rare vagrant to our avian database.  Then on March 25, remarkably, I heard another Hutton's Vireo singing on the Beard tract--eight miles away from where the December bird had been detected.  Was this the same individual or another?  We'll never know.  But this one was for certain a male; he was vigorously "singing"--and I use the term loosely when it comes to this species.  I managed to get better photos this time and also used the "movie" function of my point-and-shoot camera to actually get some good recordings of several different songs of his.  He hung around at least a few days; I heard him singing again on March 27 in the same area.  Here are two cropped pictures from the 25th.

 

    With the good macro capabilities of my little camera, I have the opportunity to get very identifiable photographs of many insects.  Actually identifying all the critters takes longer, so right now I'm just pointing and shooting at everything.  The identities will come later.  Here is a typical menagerie which can show up at the porch light on the Beard tract, followed by a gallery of various creatures.  I've put tentative names on some of the moths; hover your mouse over an image to see my notes.

     I'm now entering the most fun time of year--the beginning of our field season.  While I will still have office duties to accomplish, and so many unfinished reports, it is at this season that I can justify spending more time in the field chasing down warblers, vireos, and everything else under the sun.  Given the season, this blog may morph into something more episodic and less philosophic.  The bad news is that I may have infrequent opportunities to spend time uploading stuff; the good news is that I begin at this time of year to accumulate a lot of documentation for biological resources...and other interesting tidbits...all over the Refuge.  To this end, this beginning-of-season entry will constitute a miscellaneous collection of images from the past week or so.

    The flowers to the left are those of Texabama croton, one of our rarest and earliest blooming shrubs.  These crotons begin to bloom about the same time we see the first blooms of spring herald (Forestiera pubescens) and agarita (Berberis trifoliolata).  Like most of these early flowering shrubs, the croton is a very good butterfly plant at this season.  The Great Purple Hairstreak which graces our regular Refuge brochure is nectaring on Texabama croton flowers.  Crotons, however, like many other plants in the Euphorb family, are not eaten by much.  The shrub is amazingly immune to deer browse.  To date, we have only documented one species of butterfly which utilizes the foliage as a larval food plant, the Goatweed Butterfly.  ("Goatweed" is a common name for several other species of croton.)  On our initial field excursion this past Monday afternoon, Elizabeth Lesley and I watched a female Goatweed Butterfly lay a single egg under a croton leaf:  









     Arch Rock.  As I scouted for Golden-cheeks last week on Warbler Vista, I came across this rock formation which had separated from the adjacent rimrock.  It is a natural arch rock with the opening about 3 ft tall and 8 ft wide.  Here are three shots of the feature from different angles.



     Huge Cave and Stream (?).  On the same hike where I encountered the arch rock, I stumbled into this cavern which has a spring-fed stream issuing out of it.  The entrance is 14 ft high and it goes back probably 50 ft or more.  The stream varies from 8 to 10 ft across.  An amazing location:


     Critters.  Spring has sprung.  Along with the Goatweed Butterfly documented above, Elizabeth and I also found this fancy caterpillar munching on rabbit-tobacco (Evax prolifera).  This "cat" will turn into an American Lady butterfly. 

     Things on the ground are always more likely to catch our attention, even when censusing Golden-cheeked Warblers.  The importance of always watching where you put your feet while hiking in the hills is self-evident to every Texas biologist, rancher, and adventurous child.  (Poking your eye on a juniper twig is an added adventure which requires that all warbler biologists have simultaneous "tri-focal" attention--up, down, and straight ahead.)  After Elizabeth and I had finished our warbler work and were on our way out of the study area Monday, I began turning over flat rocks to see what might be lurking underneath.  I was rewarded with a close encounter with the season's first Texas Patchnose Snake, documented by Elizabeth while my hands were quite literally tied up by this cute little constrictor.

    Two visitors--whose names I failed to get--reported the first Golden-cheeked Warbler of the season on the Refuge on Monday morning, March 15.  They saw a male warbler near trail marker 4 on the Cactus Rocks Trail at Warbler Vista.  Later in the afternoon, Elizabeth Lesley and I hiked into our Rodgers Prime Warbler Study Site and found two male warblers.  Whew!  Spring is officially here.




* * * * *
Below The Line:

     I tend to visualize just one thing when I use the abbreviation "GCWA".  However, away from the juniper-oak woodlands of the Texas Hill Country, the world is not so constrained.  Some time ago, I was doing a search for articles on the Golden-cheeked Warbler and happened to type this standard four-letter abbreviation into a search engine.  That led me on an interesting diversion.  Between Google, Yahoo!, and acronymfinder.com, I learned of the existence of many concepts and organizations I never would have dreamed of.  Not surprisingly, a great many are on the Gulf Coast; among these are:

     Gulf Coast Wakeboard Association [Which owns the domain name "gcwa.com".]
     Gulf Coast Water Authority
     Gulf Coast Woodturner's Association
     Gulf Coast Writers Association
     Gulf Coast Wrestling Alliance

But the collection of associations was farther flung than just those.  Witness:

     Gastonia Community Watch Association [Gaston Co., NC]
     George's Creek Watershed Association [Allegany Co., MD]
     Georgia Cattlewomen's Association
     Georgia County Welfare Association [Covington, GA; owns the domain "www.gcwa.us"]
     Gills Creek Watershed Association [Columbia, SC]
     Greater Charlotte Workroom Association [Charlotte, NC]
     Grey County Woodlot Association [somewhere in Canada]

Even farther afield, I found:

     Gliding Club of Western Australia

and,

     Global Championship Wrestling Alliance

In the realm of science, I found:

     Gilford fine sandy loam, 0 to 1 percent slope [Pulaski Co., IN]

and I have no idea where they came up with "GCWa" for that.  However, my all-time favorite has to be:

     Generalized Closed World Assumption

This has something to do with "Disjunctive Logic Programs and Deductive Databases", to wit:

     "The closed world semantics defined above is the "strongest" negation semantics possible for disjunctive logic programs based on minimal Herbrand models and is known as the generalized closed world assumption (GCWA)."

I'm glad I could clarify that for you.