Jim Anderson

This is the time of year when birds of a feather flock together. As proof of that statement, not too long ago I spotted a large flock of birds flying out of the Whychus Creek area east of Sisters early in the morning and returning just before sundown.
My first thought was Red-winged Blackbirds, as the Deschutes Basin Land Trust's Camp Polk Preserve wetland in that area produces a goodly population of redwings each year. However, to be sure, I took a good look.
Sure enough, right at 5:57 a.m., here they came. Not redwings, but hundreds of starlings and Brewer's blackbirds flew over my head on their way south. I followed them to the junction of the Sisters/Redmond highway at Camp Polk Road and watched as they disbursed in several directions.

I don't hear from my pal, woodcarver, caver and photographer Brent McGregor as much as I'd like to, but when I do, he knocks my socks off. The photo above is an example, and the note with it also hit my funny bone: “My little buddy was in the mood for more pictures today. I'm teaching him to stand up rather than (hanging) upside down, and I think he likes it: notice the smile on his face!:))”
As I sat there laughing at what appeared when Brent turned the bat photo upside down, the sex of the bat changed from “him” to her. If you can imagine a lady bat doing a fan-dancer routine, then you can see what I see, including the beguiling grin on “her” face.
At the end of his e-mail, Brent went on to say, “Jim, this is the same bat you came out to see years ago and did the story on for the paper.”
There is no doubt that this is the same bat, and I'll tell you why. Way back in the '60s and '70s when I was working with OMSI, Portland Zoo, and later on, Sunriver, I was banding bats throughout winter in the lava tubes (caves) southeast of Bend. I wanted to see if we could discover the bats' whereabouts and travels during the summer, and to see who came back to the same cave the next winter. That experiment took me down paths I never dreamed of.

At that time, Boyd Cave, with its literal hole-in-the-ground entrance and rickety ladder, wasn't as popular for cavers at it is today. Consequently, there were two species of bats using it as a hibernaculum: Townsend big-eared bats and a group of sweet little myotis I didn't know.

Do your osprey have large talons?The osprey (Pandion haliaetus), has never had an easy life, and probably never will. It eats fish, and anything that eats fish is- somewhere along life's trail-going to have a collision with Man's interests or Nature's. To make it worse, it's that way wherever Osprey live, and, except for Antarctica, they are found worldwide.

Long before Man came onto the scene, osprey and eagles had been conducting a one-way battle for fish that works like this: Osprey spends hours hovering over water that has fish swimming beneath the surface. Osprey spots fish. Osprey catches fish. So far so good…
Those of you who have watched osprey dive after a fish have been thrilled as I have to observe the headlong plummet they make toward their intended target. They've got a lot of things going for them at this point; one is a built-in filter in their eyes that cuts the reflection from the surface of the water, sort of like a Polaroid lens. Diving head first, and with that remarkable eyesight, they can keep a sharp eye on the unsuspecting fish. Just before they hit the water, however, the Osprey does a split-second position shift. The wings are raised directly overheard, and instead of diving headfirst, they are now feet first, and it is in that attitude they hit the water.

Our common, Side-blotched Lizard, Uta stansburiana.I need to make an apology. Throughout all the years I've been preaching from this pulpit, I have never once (that I can recall) mentioned one of our more handsome reptiles, the side-blotched lizard of the genus Uta. For this I apologize, profusely!

You'll note I used the genus name along with the common name, as this is what I was told the lizard's name was when I met up with my first specimen at Fort Rock years ago. I was strolling along the ancient lake terrace just above the present parking lot, counting Prairie Falcons nests in the towering crags, when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something orange-ish suddenly scamper away on the rocks. The reason I actually noted the movement at all was probably the flash of bright orange.
My first glance didn't reveal what it was, as the movement stopped when I stepped closer to the rock outcropping. Then I saw it, a lizard with a bright orange throat and belly. Wow! It was beautiful!
Looking at it closely I saw what appeared to be a hole in the lizard's body, just behind its front leg. When it stopped, however, I could see that it wasn't really a hole, but a dark blueish spot. With the stealth of a Navy SEAL I crept up on the lizard and in a lucky grab I had it in my hand. I had no idea of its name, common or scientific, and no one to ask. (My good friend and herpetologist, Al St. John of Bend, author of Lone Pine Publisher's superb publication, Reptiles of the Northwest, was about 10 years old at that time, busy chasing snakes around McMinnville.) But down in my rig, I had a brand new copy of Stebbins' textbook, Amphibians and Reptiles of North America.

My VW "Westy," killed by an elk. That poor old busted VW "Westy" in the photo was a lovely old thing. It was built in 1984 by some pretty smart German engineers, it has a newly rebuilt engine in it, and only a little over 140,000 miles on the odometer, and now, according to Farmer's Insurance, it's dead after meeting up with a yearling elk.

After driving hundreds of thousands of (mostly) wildlife accident-free miles around Central Oregon for over 50 years, my luck changed. I killed a yearling elk, and here's the way it came about:
A week ago, my wife, Sue, and I were down at Lava Beds National Monument helping out in the first annual Butterfly Count. We finished the compilation about 7 p.m., and after a great chicken barbecue, decided to head for home – a four hours drive from Lava Beds. That meant that two-thirds of the trip would take place in crepuscular conditions, then darkness.
Perhaps the wreck wouldn't have happened if I had done what I always did when I was flying for a living and paid attention to the Federal Air Regulation that states, "The pilot in command of an aircraft is directly responsible for, and is the final authority as to, the operation of that aircraft." What that means is that the pilot (driver) shall make him or herself aware of all conditions that will affect that flight (trip). Had I done that, perhaps that yearling elk would still be alive, and so would my Westy.

One of seven species of parasitic Gymnosomid flies, this one the red-butted variety.Flies are everywhere and no matter what your station is in life, no matter where you go or what you do, you will bump into a fly doing something you don't understand or like, therefore, never, Oh, Best Beloved, take a fly for granted.

In the event you're not yet hooked into this little essay, here's a few things to think about when it comes to flies: First, they are the only insects that have only one pair of wings, all the others have two. To make up for the missing two wings, flies possess balancers, known as halteres, which are actually gyroscopes. Instead of having a centrifugal gyroscope to keep it stable in flight, the fly has an oscillating gyroscope. Didn't know that did you…?
Gnats are flies. Birds and bats eat gnats by the krijillions. Without gnats, a whole lot of birds and bats would go hungry. Some gnats look like mosquitoes, while others have such charming names, as: "love bugs," "moth flies," "march flies," scuttle flies," and so on. There are also "kissing bugs."
The most common fly we are all familiar with is the so-called "housefly." Houseflies touch everybody and everything. Their mouth is like a sponge, literally, and they spend their entire adult lifetime sticking their nose into everyone's food, garbage, poop and business, and the majority of these flies begin life as a maggot eating something dead. Mom was right; wash your hands!

Two nestling nighthawks in "nest." Our common nighthawks are back, but a little over two weeks late. Birds arriving "back home" late, in lesser numbers-or not at all-is worrisome these days. With the mounting evidence of peculiarities in the natural world around us attributable to global warming it's a little scary when birds like nighthawks are late coming back "home" to nest.

Nighthawks devour tons and tons of insects for a living, and they're not confined to any one continent while doing it. They raise babies in North America in summer, but as soon as the kids are on the wing, they head out for Brazil and other points south.
Nighthawks are a mysterious and often misunderstood bird that is referred to by a variety of misleading names such as "goatsucker," "bull bat," "night jar," and "mosquito hawk." They have a 12-inch wingspan, are shaped like boomerangs and very agile in flight. The fact that they appear at night likely accounts for the name "bull bat." If you can smoke that one out, you're a better man than I, Gunga Din.

One of thousands of Mule Deer fawns lying about Central Oregon these days. Please, leave them alone!Editor's note: Some folks didn't recognize Jim Anderson's column last week as a bit of naturalist humor because editors at the Source swapped the photo that served as his punch line. So if the piece on mushrooms left you scratching your head, you weren't alone. Sorry for the confusion.

This is the time of year when well-meaning – but way off base – people pick up fawns because, in their minds, the baby has been "abandoned." In almost all cases, the fawn has not been abandoned, but has been left by its mother because it's safer where it is than out wandering around while she is feeding. PLEASE! Leave fawns alone; avoid them; go away and forget them; everyone and everything in the world of nature, and our world will go a lot smoother if you do.
Tom Worcester, who lives near Sisters, can tell you how it works when a fawn is left alone. He called one morning around 8 a.m. to tell me he had a brand new fawn in his yard, and was worried that it had been "abandoned." At 10:30 a.m. he called back to say, "I had a good wildlife education this morning, this is a story with a happy ending. Momma deer came back for her baby, and the last I saw of them, the fawn was following along on wobbly legs, but keeping up." That's the way it works in Nature.

Habitat of (what could be) a new species of "mushroom" and close up of "fruiting bodies."With all this unseasonable rain we have been experiencing throughout Central Oregon, I thought it would be advantageous to go out in search of mushrooms. I understand it is during damp periods like these that mushroom fruiting bodies come to the surface, and being a person who enjoys a fresh mushroom from time to time, well, I thought, you can never tell…

I was driving slowly on the road from Sisters High School to town watching intently for mushrooms along the way, when suddenly I was excited, (and almost shocked) to see what I thought were a small group of inky caps, but what they really turned out to be is a new species, perhaps one of the most electrifying experiences I've ever had in my years of searching for new edible forms of mushrooms.
Now, I know the deadly Amanitas; some of the amanitas are so colorful you can't miss them, while others are quite common looking, but can still kill you dead, or give you a terrible stomachache. For that reason, I'm very jumpy about what mushrooms I consider "safe," or "unsafe" for consumption. Unless I see someone still walking around an hour or so after eating a wild mushroom, I stick to the ones I find in the grocery store, but sometimes I even look at them a little sideways…

Western tent caterpillars (Malacosoma sp.)This may be a banner year for tent caterpillar infestations on Antelope
Bitterbrush, Purshia tridentata (Pursh), fruit trees and ornamental
shrubs. But, please, don't grab up the chemicals to attack them. Think
before you spray!

This is a pest that can be looked at in several
ways. For one, they have been here long before us, and no matter how
many colonies you kill, they will still be here after we've gone out
among the stars-they may be pests, and not much fun to look at, but
they are survivors. On top of that, they are one of the favored targets
of tachinid flies, helpful insect parasites that are always looking for
a delicious host. Most often, if you spray tent caterpillars, you will
also kill the "Good Guys." Another point is, as adults, tent
caterpillars take to the wing as moths that are the favored prey for a
number of bats, nighthawks, Flammulated Owls and other night-time
insect feeders.
In the short-term view, tent caterpillars may
seem repulsive and cause damage to plants, but in the long run-which is
how Nature looks at things-they ain't so bad.