By David Spector
I’m looking down to see what’s popping up. Late summer and early fall is mushroom time, when lawn and log, forest and field are often decorated with the reproductive, spore-producing bodies of fungi, or “mushrooms” in the widest sense of the word. These mushrooms come in a fascinating variety of sizes, shapes and colors. Some are deliciously edible — but others are poisonous and sometimes deadly. Mushrooms’ beauty, edibility and potential peril have caught the imagination of naturalists and poets for centuries.
By Elizabeth Farnsworth
Now that summer is behind us, many Valley residents are making plans for trips to warmer climes during the colder months and students are migrating back to college. But we aren’t the only creatures traversing thousands of miles when the seasons change — many insects use migration to their advantage.
By David Spector
Once, many years ago, I approached an oxbow in Hatfield and was dismayed to see what appeared to be plastic monofilament orange fishing line entangling patches of vegetation along its marshy edges. I saw this litter as an eyesore, and I was aware that fishing line can trap birds. Closer inspection, though, changed annoyance and concern to a lesson. The “fishing line” was alive,
By Patty O’Donnell
Often in life we take the little things for granted. But microorganisms, which are among the world’s smallest creatures, are nature’s workhorses. Aquatic ecosystems rely on a diversity of organisms to consume organic matter and filter impurities from water to maintain healthy habitats. Our constructed water purification systems — from aquaria and pond filters to municipal wastewater treatment facilities — make use of many of the same species to keep our water clean and safe.
By Ted Watt
It was a sunny day in mid-May. Our small group of fifth-and-sixth-graders walked quietly along the farm road with our eyes glued to the nesting box on the last tree. The students were uncharacteristically quiet. As we got closer, a female bluebird flew from the entrance hole. Everyone looked excited! When we reached the box I opened the cleanout door and slowly looked inside. There, huddled in the nest, were five baby bluebirds — eyes open and pin feathers bristling on their dark gray skin. I relaxed a little, seeing that the nestlings weren’t old enough to be spooked out of the nest prematurely — they didn’t have enough feathers to fly away.
By David Spector
Lawn mowing gets me thinking. I think about why I mow the lawn; the one-word answer that often comes to me is “wood.” Left alone, most New England soil eventually grows forest. Trees block views, threaten damage from falling branches and trunks, and shade out gardens. If I want open space I need to prevent woody plants from growing. I watch trees move in, ready to take over, both seedlings sprouting in the current year and tiny bonsais that have survived several years of mowing to become gnarled miniatures of the giants that spawned them.
By George Regmund
When most folks imagine retirement, they usually think of a move to a warmer climate. However, some of us have gone in the opposite direction. Yes, it is a long way from Texas to Massachusetts, both in distance and climate, but there are many of my old Texas wildlife friends here, often doing things differently than they did down south.
By Rebecca Reid and Michael Dover
Two years ago, we moved into our new home: a renovated early-19th-century house on nine acres in Leverett, which we’ve named Old Field Farm. This event marked a new level in our ability to live according to our values around community and sustainability. We bought the property with friends who share those values, beginning with living cooperatively in energy-efficient homes, growing much of our own food, and meeting most of the rest of our needs through barter and supporting local farms and craftspeople. Last fall, another family bought the house across the road and joined our adventure. We now have a little community of nine, ranging in age from 1 to 70, working the land, raising animals, reaping the harvest and caring for our small piece of the earth.
By Ted Watt
We sling on our packs and leave the cars in the parking lot, entering the northern forest on a narrow paint-blazed trail. Paper birch, mountain ash and red spruce make up the forest along with balsam fir scenting the air. No matter how many times I come here it surprises me how different the plants are here than at home, only a 3½-hour car ride away. Bunchberry is in bloom and painted trilliums are, too. Blue-headed vireos gossip from the treetops. Swainson’s thrush calls shimmer from the deeper woods.
By David Spector
During nesting season, I often see a male bird closely following his mate. He may fly where she flies, feed where she feeds, trail after her as she builds her nest, and keep her in view. I see such mate-following in many species: a male mourning dove flying a few inches behind his mate, a male robin staying close to a female hunting worms on a lawn, a male hawk perched next to his larger mate, a male house sparrow keeping airborne pace with a female carrying a bill-full of nesting material. Such classic greeting card images are the kinds of behavior often considered enchantingly sweet.
Hitchcock Center for the Environment
at Hampshire College
845 West Street | Amherst MA 01002 | 413.256.6006 | 413.253.2809 fax