Orchard spiders

Orchard spider, close-up, originally uploaded by Elizabeth Smith.

My garden spiders

I’ve been watching these spiders for a while in my backyard. Their webs have been steadily expanding over the birdbath between two Walter Viburnum bushes, the fence, and a hummingbird feeder. At first I noticed one spider, then two, and now three. I don’t know if they were always there, if they congregated as social creatures, or if I’m seeing several generations.

The spiders are quite beautiful when the sun strikes them, with subtle iridescent colors that catch the light. The bulbous abdomens and silvery stripes enabled me to identify them up to the point of two possibilities. Either way, they belong to the same family of long-jawed orb weavers, sometimes called orchard spiders. My Audubon insect book says that these spiders are easily identified by their large and powerful jaws!




(Click on the image to view it larger.)

 

Between the spider’s natural tendency to bolt at my shadow, and the low power of my magnifying glass, I wasn’t able to get a good look at those formidable jaws. My camera wasn’t much good either, providing only blurry close-ups. However, I was able to use the photos as a basis for my pencil drawings prior to drawing the spiders in ink. Then I took a few minutes for intense observation, and jotted down some quick color notes in pencil. I especially tried to remember how the legs were attached, their shapes, and how they tapered.




Quick field color and pattern notes for adding to my drawing later.  Click on the image to view larger.



If my drawings are accurate enough, and you are knowledgeable about spiders, I’d love to know which species they are. I’m not sure that I show the appropriate sizes and colors of the small parts needed to tell them apart. My research tells me that both Leucauge venusta and Leucauge argyra live in Florida, but from there I’m stumped. Some sources say the webs are slightly different, some say they are the same. Some say that the markings vary, and some say they’re similar. I haven’t been able to look at the top of the spider, because their habit is to travel upside down along the bottom of their web. I really don’t want to disrupt them, so I’ll just leave them for now.

Update: A few minutes ago I checked them again, and noticed five spiders! And more webs!

Sketching and painting at Fakahatchee Strand

Fakahatchee grassy marsh, originally uploaded by Elizabeth Smith.

“There are still remnants of the old wild Florida. There is always something. Anytime. Day or night, cold or warm, in the rain or shining sun you can find bits of the old wild left around, if you can only get away from your fellow man for a spell.” ~ Archie Carr

One way to rediscover the old wild Florida is to visit Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park, which I did as part of the En Plein Art – Arts in the Fakahatchee event last Saturday, which also happened to correspond with the 34th Worldwide SketchCrawl. Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park has many different types of habitats: strand swamp, marl prairies, cypress strands, tropical hardwood hammocks where one can find royal palm groves, pine rocklands, and even an estuarine system. A group of us met on the south side of US 41, just across from the Big Cypress Bend Boardwalk, where an old remnant of the highway bordered a vast sea of gold and green grasses.

There were remnants of charred cabbage palms along the roadside, with interesting textures. I found myself sketching one of the palm trunks near the ground because of the dried palms fronds and grasses arranged around it. We are in South Florida’s dry season, and one can find this reflected in the plants and grasses. Things aren’t the crunchy dryness of late spring quite yet, when fire danger is high, but the ground beneath the sea of grasses is only damp, not wet or marshy.

As I painted, I found myself thinking of what it was like when men and women first encountered these habitats, and how their environment shaped their days and nights. Another artist and I walked out into grasses, which was hard going. They were taller than they looked, head height and higher in some places, the ground so low that we couldn’t get to a vantage point for painting. I settled for coming back to the road and painting along the edge, while she remained, creating a lovely intimate watercolor of grasses framing a clear blue sky.

Off in the distance I observed wood storks flying in low over the grasses. Along the edge of the road, orange, white, and yellow butterflies nectared on the Spanish needles and rattlebox wildflowers in bloom. Overhead flew two large groups of tree swallows in seemingly random patterns. Later a trio of black vultures circled the sky. The sun was out all morning, with clear skies and occasional puffy clouds that soon vanished. Our high was 79 degrees (F)! What a beautiful day! Thank you to Amy, Anita, Cathy, Cyril, Karen, Kerri, Linda, Mary, Rose, and Stephanee for coming! A special thanks to Cyril for making the signs, and to Karen for creating the event!

Everglades Conservation Atlas

Last Saturday I went for a walk on the Conservancy’s Brigg’s boardwalk at Rookery Bay.  I made a new friend there, Joe Davenport of Manship Films.  He interviewed me for a project called the Greater Everglades Conservation Atlas, which will allow online visitors to explore the greater Everglades of Florida in a virtual format. 

The project was conceived and created by the Legacy Institute for Nature and Culture (LINC), and I feel quite honored to be a part of it.  Ten artists are creating artwork in different spots throughout Florida: my area is the Rookery Bay National Estuarine Reserve.

Saturday was an overcast and cold day.  There were cool breezes that lingered with a kind of softness that hinted at moisture in the air.  The sun was visible here and there through the tattered blanket of clouds – reflecting the kind of light that mutes colors but also makes them a bit luminous.  We heard songbirds, but only saw a few.  In the distance across the lake were great egrets, and perhaps some ibis, flocking in to the shoreline around noon. 

The path to the pavilion winds through pines and palmettos...and poison ivy!

The boardwalk winds through several habitats: scrub, hammock, wetlands, and pine flatwoods.  At a raised open pavilion I made a small watercolor sketch of the surrounding slash pines and palmettos.  Above me was a gnarled old pine silhouetted against the grey skies.  Later we walked through mangrove and buttonwood stands, and I sketched some of the leaves and branches I saw along the boardwalk. 

(You can click on the image to view it larger)

I’m not sure what my subject will be yet for the Atlas, there are so many possibilities and I want to do them all!  Alas, like most projects, there are deadlines.  Limitations are good, though, because they keep us moving and open us to creative solutions.

Another facet of the Everglades Conservation Atlas is the Florida Wildlife CorridorExpedition, which started today (January 17th)!  Starting at the southern tip of peninsular Florida, a team will hike, bike, and paddle 1,000 miles along the Florida Wildlife Corridor, ending 100 days later in northern Florida.  You can see their route here;  you can also click here to follow their progress on Facebook.

I wish them all the best!

Shining sumac

Shining sumac, originally uploaded by Elizabeth Smith.

Rhus copallina

This is one of my favorite woodland shrubs. I usually see shining sumac on the edges of habitats, in the ecotone or transition zone.  Shining sumac is also called winged sumac or red sumac. You may not be able to tell from my quick sketch, but there are little “wings” along the leaf stem (rachis).  This one has very small wings, but in some  specimens they are more pronounced. Shining sumac has pinnately compound leaves that alternately spiral along the main stem. The individual leaves (or leaflets) are about 2 to 3 inches in length, but you can see that they're variable in size. This sumac caught my eye because of the gorgeous colors.

Shining sumac has quite a range in the eastern United States, throughout Florida and as far north as the south of Maine. In the south it reaches into Texas.  Although the berries are favorites of many birds, this specimen had none to show. It's situated along a trail, so it may have been trimmed back while in flower or fruit. In the past, the fruits have been used by humans to make a cooling, tart lemonade-like beverage, and as a dye. The roots are reported to have been used to treat dysentery.

Sumac is deciduous, so next time I visit this trail the leaves may have dropped.  Another species of Rhus is poisonous, aptly named poison sumac. The leaves, stems, and roots contain the same irritating allergen as poison ivy, urushiol.  Luckily, this species grows a bit further north of southwest Florida in damp or wet locations, while shining sumac prefers drier conditions. This is good news for me, since I seem to attract poison ivy just by setting foot outside my car! Sumac belongs to the Cashew family, Anacardiaceae.

The genus name Rhus is thought to come from the old French, meaning red, or from the Greek reo, meaning “to flow,” thought to refer to its spreading habit. Another source claims that Rhus is a derivation of rhous, an ancient Greek name for sumac. I found only one source that states that copallina means gummy or resinous, but doesn’t list the language or country of origin. I believe that the common name of shining sumac refers to the shiny leaves of this species. The leaves I sketched were somewhat shiny, depending on the age of the leaf. The new leaves were glossy in spite of the recent cold snap, a beautiful light red with almost a bronzy overtone.

I spotted this shining sumac along the trail at Rookery Bay that leads to the Conservancy’s boardwalk. I hope you’ve enjoyed seeing my sketch and reading a bit more about this common but often overlooked native shrub or small tree.

Ibis at Rookery Bay

White ibis along the Conservancy boardwalk at Rookery Bay

All adventures start with that one first step!

A Happy New Year to all my online friends!
happy painting and sketching,

~ Elizabeth

American alligator

Alligator scutes, originally uploaded by Elizabeth Smith.

Can you recognize which part of the alligator this is?  They are bony plates with a ridge extending from the center, and pocked with indented irregular spaces.  These bony plates are scutes, or osteoderms, and lie in multiple rows along an alligator’s back, forming a formidable armor.  These scutes are from a legally harvested alligator.  Florida has a Statewide Alligator Harvest Program that allows annual hunting and trapping to manage populations, as well as permitting year-round captures of nuisance alligators.  

At one time, alligator numbers in Florida had so dramatically declined due to over-hunting and habitat loss that biologists weren’t certain the species would recover.  The United States Fish and Wildlife Service placed them on the endangered species list in 1967, and 20 years later populations rebounded enough to have the alligator reclassified.  Besides Florida, alligators can also be found in Louisiana, southern Texas, and parts of Georgia, Alabama, North Carolina, and South Carolina.

               

Alligators are the largest reptiles in North America and live in freshwater environments: rivers, lakes, ponds, swamps, bayous, and marshes.  They will tolerate a certain amount of brackish water, and can be found near estuaries and bays as well.  Their bulk and short legs make them appear clumsy on land, but they can actually run quite fast for short distances and had even been reported to climb chain link fences!  Alligators are excellent swimmers; their strength, webbed feet, and sleek body design enable them to dive and move swiftly underwater.  One of the ways alligators subdue larger prey is to snatch them from the shoreline and dive for deeper water, holding the hapless meal-to-be underwater until drowned. 

The average male American alligator is 10 to 15 feet long, and weighs between 500 and 600 pounds.  Females tend to be smaller and lighter than males.  A female alligator lays eggs in a shoreline nest of tangled sticks, vegetation, and mud.  She guards her eggs until they're ready to hatch, and will often assist the baby alligators to the water’s edge.  One of the few reptiles to care for its young, mother alligators have been known to aggressively defend their young for more than a year.

Baby alligators have charming black and yellow stripes that will transform over time to the adult’s slate gray/black coloring.  In the wild, an American alligator generally lives to be 35 to 50 years old, but may survive 60 to 80 years in captivity.  They are “cold-blooded,” or ectothermic, and cannot regulate their body temperature like warm-blooded mammals.  When it turns cold in Florida, I often see alligators basking in the sun along the edges of canals and lakes.  During the summer months, they enjoy the cooler temperatures offered by shade or water and are seldom seen.  Sometimes all I see are the bony ridges and protruding eyes just above the water’s surface – easy to mistake for a floating log.  So far this winter our temperatures have been warm and I haven’t seen the alligators sunning themselves as often as last year. 

It amazes me to think that these primordial reptiles are one of our last links to the dinosaurs.  There is only one species of alligator in North America, the American alligator, Alligator mississippiensis.  The common name is corrupted from el lagarto, (the lizard), the name given to it by early Spanish explorers.  There is only one other alligator species in the world, which resides in China.  Crocodiles are a near relative to alligators, with several different species found in tropical habitats throughout the Americas, Asia, Africa , and Australia.  The American crocodile lives in Florida, but in small numbers, and prefers salt water to fresh.  Crocodiles have thinner, longer, and more pointed snouts than the alligator’s more rounded nose and jaw. 

It’s important to remember that alligators are basically primitive eating machines, and should be treated with care and caution.  Humans have no business feeding alligators, and the babies do not make good pets.  

 Alligators have a place and a purpose within the complex and interwoven ecosystems of Florida, and many species depend on alligator water holes in times of drought.  They are astounding creatures, but a terrible force of nature, and not to be treated lightly. 

For more reading:

National Geographic
Defenders of Wildlife

Savannah River Ecology Laboratory

Merry Christmas!

Magnolia seed burr

A warm Merry Christmas to my online friends!  I've been a bit out of commission, but will be back on track soon.  If I haven't stopped by recently, please know that my thoughts are with all of you. 

~ Elizabeth