Eastern cottontail rabbit

Always alert.

This past July I’ve been seeing all sorts of rabbits in the outdoor grassy spaces where I work. So far, they all appear to be Eastern cottontails, and during the daylight hours I see them on overcast days, during a gentle rain, or when things are quiet after a drenching storm. There is a wooded area nearby for a quick retreat, but I seem to be tolerated if I don’t stop and look too long. They are wary enough that I have to be content with memory and photos for later sketching.  

I’ve been seeing all sizes – from larger adults to young bunnies I could cradle in my hands. The young ones are especially jumpy and restive, so I try not to linger. Naturally I’ve now been reading up on Eastern cottontails and was surprised to find a wide range in the US up to the Canadian border, even extending south into central America. How adaptable! They are vegetarians and like to inhabit habitat edges – the fringes between woods and meadow, lawn and garden. The sources say that rabbits prefer to feed at twilight or night, even though I’m seeing plenty during the day when the sun is behind the clouds. 

Sketched from photos, because they would never pose this long!

Exploring nature as a child, I thrilled to find evidence of rabbit “nests” – magical hollowed-out circles in the tall grasses or low shrubby foliage in the woods. Sometimes a bit of fur was the only evidence inside the cozy nest of twisted and flattened grass, but I could never surprise any residents. Only if I was lucky and very quiet, I might glimpse the ball of white furry tail bounding away, then suddenly vanishing. I intended to do some quick gesture sketches in pen, but those turned into detailed studies… because, well… just because. Caught up in trying to capture the mass and weight of the larger ones, and describing the fur with the right pen strokes, I dropped into my default mode – go for the detail. Observation and making an eye-hand-subject connection is a way for me to learn about what I’m sketching, and detail does that for me. The challenge! 

Trying to capture those crazy fur textures and colors.

 A large and shiny eye, fur that varies in direction and color, unusual and unfamiliar shapes of skull and body. And the fur color – unique in that it has gray and brown fur tipped with black, and then russet and white parts. Each rabbit I saw seemed to have slightly different patterns of brindled black markings. Some almost all brown with very little black, some more gray, others heavily marked with black. The markings mimic the dappled shade of leaf litter or pine needles, even dry grasses. A good strategy if one is part of a food web.

Our influx of rabbits might be due to the expanding territory of the invasive pythons that curse the Everglades and beyond. These large constrictor snakes have become a new enemy to our small mammals. Biologists have documented the loss of rabbits, raccoons, possums, and foxes in Florida, and the statistics are sobering. Sigh. But that is a post for another day. 

Today I will just enjoy the experience of sharing a space with our rabbit families, and keep a lookout for pythons. 

A sketch from two years ago -
their coloring blends well with tree bark and leaf litter.

Media: 

Aquabee Super Deluxe Mixed Media sketchbook 

Mechanical pencil .7mm 

Rabbits: Pitt Artist Pen S, Sepia 

Fur: Micron Pigma 01, black 

Watercolor pencils – Derwent and Kimberly 

Niji waterbush, round M

Live oak – a keystone species (and friend)

 Live oak is one of my favorite trees -- one of the many types of oaks in the world, but only growing in the US within a limited southern range. My nature journal entry is of a tree that’s about 20 years old, an acorn volunteer from a larger and much older live oak nearby. 

Click on image to view larger.

I love discovering the many things that live oaks support. The bark on the trunks of older oaks is furrowed deep, often dressed with an embroidery of lichens, fungi, and mosses -- sometimes ferns. Look up into the branches and you will probably see several types of epiphytes, those plants that grow on others (not to be confused with parasites), and get sustenance from rain and air as well as sunlight. Sometimes called air plants, many epiphytes are from the bromeliad family – in Florida we have a variety of tillandsias and Spanish moss as the usual suspects. 

Some of these air plants collect water in bowl-like centers, created by the broad bases of their overlapping leaves. It becomes a good water source as well as a habitat for insect larvae that start their life underwater. Small insects attract the things that eat them – larger insects, spiders, anoles, and birds. The thick foliage and sturdy branches of live oak provide shade, cover and a retreat for bird and squirrel nests. About 5 years ago, I enjoyed watching a trio of raccoon kits scamper up and down the trunk of a mature live oak outside my office window as they grew to maturity. When the storms came, they high-tailed it to the 10-foot-high nest tucked under a large staghorn fern in the first fork. 

The leaves are larval food for several species of moths, plus a couple of butterflies. You might notice the tracks of leaf miners or the swellings from gall-forming insects. Live oaks are called “live” because they appear to be evergreen to many people, but they do drop their old leaves, waiting until spring when the new leaves emerge. Live oaks bloom in the spring, and although the catkins rely on wind pollination, they also offer pollen to bees and other insects. 

Oaks are well-known for acorns, not just as food for squirrels, but also for grubs, birds, and small and large mammals (even people). The nuts were processed to remove the tannins and eaten by humans all over the world. Acorn culinary history spans thousands of years, as a regular food source and later as a sustenance and survival food. Contemporary interest in acorn flour and nuts comes from the curious, the epicures, and the food and agriculture specialists working on food security for our future. 

Some of the species noticed over time!

Acorns start dropping to the ground in the fall, with some years (called mast years) welcoming an overabundance. Last year (2021) was a mast year, and we had acorns everywhere! Blue jays and squirrels left pock marks in the dirt and sand as they busily buried as many acorns as they could. Between the nuts on top and the divots below, it was dangerous walking ground.

Oaks are considered a keystone species, which means that they support a large community of living things. They support, shelter, and feed all sorts of life – from the smallest insects to deer and even bears. Live oaks have personal connections for me as well, besides the trio of raccoon kits. The first pair of pileated woodpeckers I spotted in Florida were on a live oak tree. The plonk-plonk of falling acorns has put me to sleep at night; the battles of jays and squirrels over a nut have amused me in the daytime. I enjoy trying to capture the textures and colors of the bark and leaves in my nature journal. There’s not much time to observe our two urban oaks, but I still notice an abundance of life just in passing. I’ve sketched live oaks often enough that I consider them old and beloved friends. 

I hope my words and nature journal entries help you see oaks in a new light. We appreciate the beauty and shade they bring, but they offer so much more. Planting or preserving one oak makes a difference: a cascade of life follows, and this is a wonderful thing! 

More on oaks: There is much more to learn about oaks. For an overview on the many values of oaks (for nature and ourselves), I suggest you start by watching a presentation by Dr. Doug Tallamy on his book “The Nature of Oaks” on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EdiUgB_3A9w 

Media: 

Mechanical pencil .7mm 

Micron Pigma 01, black 

Aquabee Super Deluxe Mixed Media sketchbook 6x9 in. 

Daniel Smith watercolors 

Niji waterbush, round M

Midsummer Florida

Summertime in Southwest Florida has a rhythm of its own.  It’s a pattern of heat and moisture and rain and cooling.  It’s a time of luxuriant growth for the plants adapted to it.  It’s also a time when I notice young lizards and birds and bunnies out and about, learning the ways of the world. 

Storm coming.

  Our rainy season typically starts the first part of June, sometimes late May.  The days are hot, spilling over with intense bright light as the clouds start forming.  Smaller cotton-ball clouds gather and grow from the moisture that evaporates and rises from the warming land and earth-bound waters.  Boundless clear blue skies start filling up with towering cumulus clouds, sometimes building many miles upwards.

 The clouds roll in from the Everglades, sunlit white, gathering colors of violet, blue, and dark gray along the bottoms and up through the centers.  The air feels a bit cooler when the clouds hide the sun, but it’s still quite humid.  When water saturation reaches a critical point, the rain starts, typically late afternoon.  The other night we had torrential rain off and on for hours – along with booming thunder and sporadic lightning.  Abundant water recharges our underground aquifers, and brings on an explosion of plant growth.

 

So much nature can be seen in suburban spaces.

The flowers of spring are turning into fruits now – nearby I see Simpson stopper ripening, seagrape (still green), cocoplum and more.  June flowers are blooming of course: a casual suburban observer might see common natives like Spanish needles, beach sunflower, and duck potato easily.  These are just a few volunteers in the space I move within every day, the ones I happen to stop and notice.  I also see the birds and their nests, an occasional small black snake, and young Eastern cottontails (one every day!), and other signs of procreation and growth.

 This is our lazy summer rhythm, the days hot and humid, then the clouds and rain, cooler but wet.  Nothing drenches and soaks to the bone like a Florida summer rain.  We’ve just passed the Summer Solstice and the days still feel long, although they are starting to shorten.  Our rainy season continues through the lingering months of July, August and September, and by mid-October I imagine a massive collective sigh of relief among residents.  We may still have the potential for tropical storms and hurricanes until the end of November, but at least we’ll be more comfortable.

No matter what's going on in the human world, the natural world keeps marking time, finding its own rhythms, confirming new life.  These are the drumbeats that feed my soul and the music that helps me make sense of life. 

Munching on a bit of grass.

Media:
Mechanical pencil .7mm
Micron Pigma 01, black
Aquabee Super Deluxe Mixed Media sketchbook
Daniel Smith watercolors, Botanical Floral half-pan set
Niji waterbush, round M

Green heron

Just walking, I happened to veer to the small lake nearby and discovered a green heron intently gazing at the water’s surface.  The heron perched on a concrete culvert in the bright sun on the edge of the lake, blue sky above, green water below.  Rocking slightly in the breeze on bent, sturdy legs and anchored by long toes, waiting …waiting for a ripple in the water, a movement that might mean dinner.

Click on image to view larger.

 I think of these smallish herons as shy birds, easily bothered and not tolerant of prolonged observation.  I quickly took a photo or two, and tried to spend the remaining precious moments in deep observation.  Ki flew off within minutes, not sure of my intentions.  I made a few drawings afterwards, and starting learning more about green herons. 

 This green heron was not exactly green, but had green glints and highlights along darker back body feathers. A beautiful russet-colored neck patch, body structure, yellow legs and eyes add to the distinctive markings.  A year-round resident of Florida, populations swell at times with migrating kin from the north.     

 I read that breeding season in Florida starts in March and runs through July, so perhaps this heron was out hunting for food for the family.  One of our smaller herons, about the size of a large crow, they like to inhabit the edges of wetlands, with food on one side and cover on the other.  With a stocky build and a long thick neck settled on shoulders, they can look ungainly on land. 

A fascinating item – green herons sometimes use tools to catch food, one of a few species that do this.  They drop twigs, insects or other tidbits onto the water surface to entice fish to surface and feed within their reach.  Debate may continue over definitions of tools and tool use, but many agree that this type of behavior indicates an increased intelligence. 

 Things to think about. 

Want to read more about green herons?

Wikipedia:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_heron

Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission fact sheet: 
https://myfwc.com/media/19710/bba_grhe.pdf

ebird.org:  https://ebird.org/species/grnher  

Media
Aquabee sketchbook, 6x9”
.7 mm mechanical pencil
Micron Pigma Pen, black 01
Kimberly watercolor pencils
Niji waterbrush, Medium

Mistflower

 

“The smallest flower is a thought,
a life answering to
some feature of the Great Whole...”
~ Honore de Balzac

There is a wildflower I’m especially fond of that comes up along the edges and unlikely places in my yard, and starts blooming in late summer.  It always makes me happy to see the tiny toothed leaves emerge from the ground, because I know that they’ve reseeded and will do just fine with absolutely no help from me.  It’s still blooming in late November but going to seed.  The common name is Mistflower; these have blooms of lavender and soft violet, and from a distance the many stamens and coloring sometimes gives the appearance of distant mist drifting over the ground.  

I’m often fascinated by the self-similarity of its leaves.  Each tiny leaf a miniature of the largest.  You could argue that many plants are like this (and some are), but it’s the way these branch and divide and arrange its heart-shaped leaves that captivates me.  I’m not good at fractal geometry, but I enjoy how Mistflower shows up in the world.  If you don’t know fractals, here is a partial definition from the FractalFoundation,org:  “Fractals are infinitely complex patterns that are self-similar across different scales.” 

The tiny leaves are miniatures of the largest leaves.

Patterns appear everywhere in nature – some seem random, and some quite precise.  Some patterns depend on the macro or the micro view.  When I think of self-similar things, I’m reminded of mineral structures.  I know, an unlikely sideways jaunt from botany to geology – but this is one of the things I love about nature journaling.  I never know where it might take me.

Those who know me well, know that I also love rocks.  Geology is a huge part of the why of things, but that’s a subject for another time.  One of the more interesting things I’ve learned is that the atomic structure of a mineral is reflected in the external crystal structure.  In other words, we can look at pure salt crystals in our hand and predict that we’ll see similar crystal shapes under the microscope.  This is because they fracture along specific structural lines.  Other minerals and impurities can change this, but generally the microscopic pattern determines the real-world pattern. 

I don’t know enough to say that this is what happens in the plant world, just saying that the natural world is an amazing place and full of unexpected patterns and connections.  We just have to change our viewpoint.   Do you find yourself fascinated by patterns as well?  What connections do you make? 

My nature journal page.

Media: 

• Micron Pigma 01 pen
• Kimberly watercolor pencils
• Aquabee Super Deluxe drawing paper 93 lb.

For more about Mistflower
From Florida Wildflower: https://flawildflowers.org/flower-friday-conoclinium-coelestinum/

Dip into fractals
Fractals in nature from Dave’s Garden:  https://davesgarden.com/guides/articles/view/1966

Fractals in everything: https://news.globallandscapesforum.org/43195/fractals-nature-almost-all-things/

A long but fascinating article on why fractals resonate with us:
https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2017/01/why-fractals-are-so-soothing/514520/

Dig into mineral structures

Cleavage and fracture properties explained in easy-to-understand language on page 4:

https://www.baschools.org/vimages/shared/vnews/stories/5034e6f71f062/Chapter%2014%20Section%20Two.pdf

An open textbook, in-depth on crystal morphology: https://opengeology.org/Mineralogy/10-crystal-morphology-and-symmetry/

 

 

As summer sighs into fall

 Silent wet earth beneath dry and papery leaf quilts, woven and stitched by summer, and a new story begins.  Fall to me always feels like a time of resting, a pause, a completion, but also a preparation for the next chapter.

 In southwestern Florida it is a quiet story, bathed in cooler breezes and high-weather clouds.  The sky a different blue, more hints of violet than the turquoise of summer.

A bit tattered and faded
at the end of summer, but still thriving.

 Many shades of brown beneath my feet crumble as I step; my nose flares with the rich earthy fragrance of decomposition.  Flashes of green against the deeply corrugated oak bark: a sturdy vine, thick as my thumb, grips with tiny tendrils to climb the sunlit canopy.  Virginia creeper -- this summer it has not been creeping, but steadily pacing itself, suddenly five more feet of leafy vines cover walls and tree trunks.

 The tiny greenish-white summer blooms became small green berries, and are now a velvety navy blue on scarlet stems, ready for bird and wildlife consumption.  A few of the leaves are already blushing with the cooler weather.

 

The slash pine tree has added girth – almost impossibly so.  Surely ki was a slender youngster not that long ago.  Now a stately column, dressed in large plates of bark in rust and gray and tan.  The cones will be dropping soon, hiding nut-seeds under tight scales, waiting for the time to open and feed the squirrel families nearby.  Right now the squirrels seem to be feasting on live oak acorns, sea grape and coco plum fruits. 

 The fruits of summer will continue as the marlberries ripen and new acorns continue to drop.  The wild coffee and Simpson stopper berries did not last long, but I think there may be some wild grapes out there.  These are all I have to offer, but I like to think that it’s enough of a way-station among the unsafe harbors.   

 Chittering background birds.  A mockingbird flips a tail and scolds.  Anoles skitter and skate through damp leaves.  A quiet time, but still full with the sounds of life.  There is alchemy brewing as summer sighs, and autumn whispers new secrets into the breeze. 

A flash of yellow, and fluttering wings in the birdbath.

 Media used: 

Canson All-media 90 lb. sketchbook
Mechanical pencil and Micron Pigma black artist pen 01
Mission Gold watercolors

 

 

April 10th is Florida Gopher Tortoise Day!

A typical gopher tortoise burrow at The Naples Preserve.

In honor of Florida's Gopher Tortoise Day, I am re-posting an updated version of a post  created 9 years ago.

Way back in 2011, I visited the Naples Preserve and sketched a gopher tortoise burrow as part of my nature journal entry about the coastal plain honeycomb head wildflower.  It’s funny how a drawing can start trains of thought and exploration.  Although I didn’t see any tortoises that day, the burrow opening itself led me to wonder about the gopher tortoise: what they eat and how they live.  I've since seen several in various locations in Collier County, mainly in coastal and scrub locations (think SANDY soil!).

Gopher tortoises are a keystone species.  A keystone is the wedge-shaped piece at the top of an arch that supports the other parts. If a keystone is removed, the arch collapses.  A keystone species has a disproportionately large effect on its environment relative to its quantity.  These amazing creatures are very important to the survival of other species that share their habitat.

Click on image to see a larger size.

For example, it’s been estimated that gopher tortoise burrows (both active and abandoned) provide support for over 300 types of animals, birds, and insects – which use them for shelter, hiding places, or protection from the elements.  These are commensal relationships, relationships in which one organism benefits while the other is neither harmed nor helped.

Gopher tortoise burrows average 15 ft. in length and may be as deep as 6 feet. The longest estimate is up to 48 ft. in length! The burrows have one entrance (that is also the exit), and eventually open up into a larger “bedroom.”  Species using these burrows range from burrowing owls and scrub jays, to Florida mice, gopher frogs, opossums, scorpions, and indigo snakes.

Gopher tortoises are found all over Florida, but only in certain types of habitats.  They range into Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, and the southernmost tip of South Carolina.  Although once common, numbers have dwindled because of habitat destruction In Florida.  On the state's Endangered and Threatened Species List they are listed as Threatened. 

Some other interesting things I learned about gopher tortoises:

• They first appeared during the Pleistocene Epoch, and are one of our oldest living species.

• Gopher tortoises are land reptiles – they do not live in or near the water!  In fact, they rarely drink water, getting fluids from the plants they eat.  If you find one, please do NOT place them in water, and help educate others to their needs!  Well-meaning people often try to "help" these tortoises by placing them  in a nearby lake or canal.  They are better off left alone!


• They live in areas with easy to dig sand, such as pine flatwoods and scrub habitats.

• The size of the burrow opening corresponds to the size of the tortoise using it.

• They are herbivore scavengers, eating grasses, legumes, mushrooms, fruits, berries, and even flowers.

• Biologists believe that they have a 40 to 60 year life span in the wild; they live much longer in captivity.

Some websites on gopher tortoises for further exploration:

All about Florida Gopher Tortoise Day with educational resources, including a coloring book to download (scroll down).


Ginny Stibolt's account of finding a gopher tortoise in her Florida backyard, with in-depth facts.

Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission page

Free coloring page!  you can click HERE to download a free gopher tortoise coloring page in PDF format (right).

A Sanibel Island Workshop

“The sun shines not on us, but in us.”
  ~ John Muir

The back of the Bailey Homestead and the native nursery.
Any wacky angles are the artist's, not the construction!

A workshop
Last Wednesday (March 11, 2020), I facilitated an introduction to nature journaling workshop.  We spent a sunny and serene tropical afternoon in the pavilion behind the Bailey Homestead Preserve at the Sanibel-Captiva Conservation Foundation (SCCF), on Sanibel Island, Florida.

It’s a good memory today, because of increasing concerns about the spread of COVID-19.    Rather than dwell on a subject that’s over-done and everywhere, let’s share something far more pleasant.   It will be so much better for our immune systems.  :- )

A group of us met for three hours under the pavilion behind the native plant nursery, the light breeze bringing the promise of ocean air, and that soft, yet bright sun’s heat that I associate with mid-March in Florida.  The light is clear and clean, with none of summer’s dusty tiredness and intense heat and humidity.  The sky still has traces of winter’s cool blue, with puffy clouds that don’t yet build into summer’s cumulus towers.  Greens are still fresh, with that particular color of crisp spring green emerging here and there.  

Starting off

We are in just a small part of the Bailey Homestead Preserve, which is just a small part of the overall conservation foundation.  To the front of the preserve is a restored Florida house, to the back are trails and wilder areas.  There is a wide open lawn for events, the native plant nursery and retail sales, and an open-air pavilion with chickee-hut-style roofing. you can see us in the pavilion in the photo below.  I'm standing behind the table while Jenny Evans, Native Landscapes and Garden Center Manager, is starting us off.

The breezy open air pavilion - with nature everywhere!

 At break, we get to chat and to browse through the many reference books I like to bring along (yes, I have way too many books!), plus a collection of my past nature journals.  Some of my sketchbooks are over ten years old, but have held up remarkably well – so I can tell the care that others use when handling them.  Thank you.

Drawing time
After our break, we choose a spot and draw individually.  This is the time when I try to visit each person privately, to help with a challenge or to admire their progress. 

A group of twelve is about my maximum, but even then it can be hard to find the artists once they scatter.  I apologize to those who found secure hiding places from me!  We typically spend the first part of our time together on introductions and a presentation on the large screen of different ways to create a nature journal. 

Bright lemon- and buttery-yellow sunflowers and daisy-like flowers abound.  Beach sunflower, coreopsis (tickseed), and gaillardia (blanket flower) are all blooming.  Vibrant shades of pink-to-lavender-to-violet:  verbena, railroad vine, and iris.   And a dash of bright scarlet – tropical sage.  Mmmmmmm… heaven for the artist within.  These are just a few of the flowers along the brick walkways of the native garden center and preserve!  I found myself longing for the entire week to explore this magical place.  However, fledging nature journalers  await.

And time to share
Our next step is to group back in the pavilion to share our experiences,  This (to me) is where a lot of our very real learning takes place!  Sharing our work is always optional.  Our group is here to provide a safe and supportive place with like-minded folks. 

Taking time to share, to learn, to grow.

We see our work through their eyes, and suddenly (!) the parts we felt were failures become successes.   This is not about comparing and competing - we ALL start at the beginning of this journey.  We all have good days and bad.  The important thing is that we're DOING.  So... let the judgements go.  Use those powers of discernment to get to where you want to go.  When we change our internal dialogue, we do much better, plus we're happier.  :-)

When we share, we experience the joy of someone’s new paint color, we thrill to a sketchbook of exotic paper, we learn the name of an unidentified species.  I always learn something new.  It’s exciting to me to see our natural world through the eyes of architects, nurses, or accountants.  Each of us has a different lens of experience that informs our work as an artist.  How cool is that!

Thanks for letting me share my Sanibel adventure – I hope you get to feel a bit of the tropical sun and the breeze feathering your hair... 
And remember to let yourself shine.

Watercolor sketch media:

Canson CP watercolor paper 140 lb.

Mechanical pencil .7mm

Sakura Micron Pigma black artist’s ink pen 01
Molotow making fluid pump pen 2 mm

Daniel Smith watercolors

Round WC brushes #8, 12