AN OCCASIONAL WEB PUBLICATION - Issue Four, October 2006
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| Happy Halloween! It can be fun to examine something "spooky." The background of this newsletter is made from a seagull skull. I've been hiking a lot, adding 217 miles to my total on the North Country Trail (grand total now 3166!) Lots of miles under my tires too, with programs and book signings. Thanks to so many of you who have commented that you enjoy North Country Cache. Use the links at the bottom to see a schedule of future programs and book signings, or to order a book.
-- Joan |
| A Novice Shares a Few Basics and a Lot of Ignorance Read more |
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| A woods-wise camper gets her come-uppance Read more |
| What's in your neighborhood? Read more |
| An ultra word warp for word puzzle lovers Read more |
| Engaging another sense to identify plants Read more |
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SKULLS 001
| So it's Halloween and you are feeling pretty confident that you can identify human skulls whether they appear painted on small faces at your door, are cardboard facsimiles hanging in windows or are presented in day-glo luminous plastic to be filled with candy. You just hope you don't meet up with any real ones that aren't covered by muscle, skin, hair and a complete set of eyeballs. Oh yeah, attached to a body and alive would be welcome features too! |
So I finally sat down with my small collection of mammal skulls and the "non-technical introduction for beginners" book (see link below). After 4 hours, I've decided that keying out skulls may not be as hard as keying out sedges, but I have a lot to learn. For one thing, either an experienced teacher or more than one reference would be good. I also need to have lots more skulls in hand for comparison. What I have to say is so minimal, it won't even qualify as a 101 level commentary.
 But here are a few scattered things I learned. Rodents have orange incisors (front teeth), and a big gap between those and their other teeth.
I think I have a small beaver and a large squirrel here. I would have guessed muskrat for the larger one, but it's bigger than the book gives as a size limit, and seems to fit the beaver key better on some other features, too. On the other hand, the small skull seems large for a squirrel, but see the next picture for how I learned it must be a squirrel. Fox squirrels do get quite big.  Those "post-orbital processes," the bump that defines the back side of the eye hole, above the cheekbone (zygomatic arch), are very distinct and pointed in squirrels.
I don't happen to have a rabbit skull, but I learned that rabbits and relatives are easy to learn because they have one very tiny incisor behind the large one, and their nasal bones (in front of the eye holes) look like lattice or mesh. I also learned that it can be nearly impossible to tell a coyote from some domestic dogs. Dogs supposedly have more rounded foreheads (more brain), and coyotes have narrower snouts. So I think I own two dog skulls, one of them wonderfully gruesome for a Halloween tale, still covered with moldering hair and sporting a mummified nose. | ||
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NOT SLEEPING AT SLEEPING BEAR
| Last summer, two of us took twelve Webelos Scouts camping at Sleeping Bear Dunes. Despite the fact that I was the token female, not the quintessential role model for young boys, I was a warm, gullible body willing to venture into the sandy wilds with twelve ten-year-olds. I was also the leader with the camping experience.
We ran the boys up and down the dune. We played games. We went wading in Glen Lake. We cooked a campfire dinner. When the leaders were exhausted and the gang was ready for a ten-minute break, we laid a huge tarp down in the midst of an expansive field of poison ivy designated by the authorities as the group campground. In three to five days we'd be able earn a merit badge for Scratching. Me, I retreated modestly to a separate location to sleep, a space with no three-leaved greenery. This happened to be just the other side of the fire circle. I tidied the area, picking up sand-covered marshmallows, and making sure the fire was out. The boys, stuffed with campfire stew and memories, passed immediately from wildmen of the dunes to adorable sleepyheads. Finally, I too lay down, cuddled by the warm sand, and dazzled by cool bright stars overhead. "Skritch, crinkle, skritch!" My brief moment of relaxation was interrupted by suspicious noises. Crawling from my sleeping bag and approaching the sounds in the black night, I could see three white stripes hovering about six inches above ground level. Where they converged at a dark face the marshmallow bag was tightly grasped in the skunk's teeth. The wily critter was dragging the prize away. "Skritch." Reversing course, I surrendered the sugar and headed for bed again. This time I drifted off to some well-deserved sleep. The stars whirled overhead a quarter turn and I awoke, an odd sensation stirring my groggy brain. I engaged the visual dimension and discovered myself eye to furry eye with a masked inquisitor. The raccoon sat and stared at me from four inches away, cocking its head occasionally as if taking inventory of my features and finding some more interesting than others. "Hi," I ventured a whispered greeting. This was too much socializing for the bandit who had been skunked at getting the marshmallows, and it wandered away. Everyone else continued in peaceful oblivion. Only I, the one wise in the ways of the woods, was now alert and slightly nervous. Just twitchy enough to need the latrine. I danced barefoot over the now cold and rock-littered sand to the privy. The large spider which tried to befriend me there was the close encounter of the third wildlife kind, well more than enough to send me hurrying back to huddle in my sleeping bag until dawn brought more encounters of the hungry boy kind. So you think this story sounds too bizarre to be true? Well, OK, I lied. Actually it didn't happen last summer. It was twenty-one years ago. Back to top |
VICTORY PARK
I thought I knew everywhere that one could conceivably find a legal place to follow a trail in my home county. So much for my smug superiority! When someone told me that Victory Township Park had a nice trail, I had to ask how to get there. The very next day I checked it out. If I had ever been there, I had forgotten. It's a small park on Hamlin Lake, with a pavillion and picnic tables. You can launch a boat, play softball, and indeed, take a hike there. The trail encircles a steep 60-foot-high hill, with several side trails climbing to the flat hilltop. There is an additional opening at the top where one could play games or picnic on a blanket. A monument to those from Victory Township who gave their lives in both World Wars is also located on the hilltop. Since many of you readers are not from western Michigan, the point of this account is not to get you to drive hundreds of miles to walk one mile of trail. The point is: what wonderful treat is hidden practically in your own backyard? Get off the couch and go exploring! More about Victory Park Back to top |
IT'S PUZZLING
Ultra Word Warp. Usually you just answer three puzzles to create a fourth one. This "ultra" version has three sets of three to answer the question: "What did the squirrel ask the backpacker?" Download it here as a Word document and try your luck. Back to top |
NOSING THROUGH THE SHRUBBERY
Sticking my nose in a field guide instead, I easily learned that the plant is Sweet Gale, Myrica gale, of the Myricaceae family. It likes to live on the damp and cool edges of the Great Lakes.
So then I began to think about other shrubberies into which people should stick their noses. There's Yellow Birch, which is often found growing in company with hemlock. It tolerates a wide range of conditions, but rarely forms pure stands. In Michigan, if you have a birch, and it's not the familiar White Birch, it's probably yellow. But if you want to be sure, break a twig and you'll be greeted with the smell of wintergreen.
And I'll never forget the day, a few years ago, when I was enjoying a warm evening walk following an early summer shower. Suddenly I was surrounded by a light but wild, fruity aroma. It took some genuine nosing in the shrubbery to discover that the scent came from a tangle of wild grapes in bloom. Ever since, I've sought out these inconspicuous blossoms to enjoy their heady aura. I recommend it. In fact, I recommend sticking your nose into the bushes any old season of the year. It may not make you (or me) a botanist, but you might just be surprised at what you discover. read more about Ailanthus at e-Nature Sparknotes for A Tree Grows in Brooklyn Back to top Click here to add your email to the newsletter notification list (a popup window) Your email will not be used for any other purpose. |
