By David Spector
Many people seem to consider the observation of changing states of matter synonymous with boredom. “Waiting for water to boil” or “watching snow melt” are comparisons made to the least interesting events in life, but naturalists view these events differently. At this time of year, snow melt provides me with many fascinating episodes of nature-watching.
By Elizabeth Farnsworth
I’m not quite sure when the word “journal” became an optional verb, but my spell- checker accepts the term “journaling” without a hiccup. So, the activity must be acceptable, dare I say mainstream, even if too few of us—as adults, anyway— permit ourselves the time to do it.
By Alan Emond
The air is cool—no, it’s frigid—the moon is near full and the souls of trees are imprinted in darkened outlines breaking the purity of glistening snow cover. Clouds roll by and darkness is again complete. There, in the not-so-distant hay field, a cry clings to the wind until reaching your ear. A pause, then another joined by multiple voices. A chorus of primitive origin, passing over polished teeth, timeless cries from deep within. The song of the eastern coyote nips at your heels.
By David Spector
The science of ecology often entails studying the distribution and abundance of species: Why are they where they are, and what determines their population size? On a single day of bird watching, I had the opportunity to observe two species whose presence and numbers led to very different answers to these questions, even as their lives intersected.
By Ted Watt
What’s that stuff on the snow? It looks like pepper, and there’s lots of it. It’s dark blue. And it’s jumping. Hey, it’s tiny bugs!
By David Spector
It’s winter—time for cold and snow and… breeding season?
By Michael Dover
As this column goes to press, the long-anticipated Copenhagen climate-change talks are under way. If they succeed, the world will be presented with a treaty to replace the expiring Kyoto Protocol that attempted—and largely failed—to put the brakes on greenhouse gas emissions that cause global warming. But in the run-up to Copenhagen, many world leaders and pundits seemed to agree that success is unlikely, and some have cited lagging public interest in the issue as part of the cause.
By David Spector
Place names often preserve bits of natural history. “Holly wood” and “spring field,” for example, say something about what was found when the names were first given. Others record sad losses. Hills named “Pigeon” and “Chestnut”—which are widespread in the eastern United States—reflect the previous abundance of the passenger pigeon (now extinct) and the American chestnut (now a tiny remnant population). populations of western Massachusetts.
By Robert T. Leverett
In 1600, forests covered at least 85 percent of the Massachusetts landscape, except for areas cleared by Native Americans near the coast and along major stream corridors. White settlement changed all that—gradually at first, but then at an explosive pace until the mid-1800s. From then through the early 1900s, the state was made up of fields, settlements and fairly small woodlots, mostly; just 25 percent of the land was forested. Fortunately, because of increased urbanization and lifestyle changes in the 20th century, the forest has returned. But are today’s forests the same as the woodlands of pre-settlement times?
By Peter Westover
Suppose your family has owned a maple sugar business for five generations or run an apple orchard or struggled to keep a dairy going. Then imagine learning that, within less than a generation, the climate of western Massachusetts will become something like South Carolina’s today. Is that good or bad news for you?