
French author Albert Camus tells us, “Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” And what opulent bouquets the leaves of autumn do create—whole mountainsides of dazzling color. But nature has a way of combining the sublime with the practical, and the fiery reds, yellows and oranges of autumn trees stand out as an excellent example of this convergence.
As winter descends, trees in temperate and boreal zones face punishingly cold temperatures and frigid winds, conditions that would damage leaves, so trees have to reduce themselves to their toughest parts—stems, trunks, branches, bark. Leaves must fall.
Evergreens can hang on to their leaves through winter, because their foliage is coated in a wax that helps protect against cold, and their cells bear anti-freeze chemicals that ward off winter’s worst woes. Not so for broadleaf, or deciduous, trees. The fluids that flow through their leaves are thin and susceptible to freezing, the tissues tender. Winter cold dooms the leaves, and trees save energy by getting rid of them. Let’s take a look at the process.
As the dark mantle of winter’s dwindling days falls, trees can sense the loss of light. Thanks to chemical light receptors—phytochrome, which detects red light, and cryptochrome, which is sensitive to blue—trees can register day-length changes of as little as half an hour. When they do, they undergo chemical and physical changes that produce autumn hues.
It’s all about chlorophyll—the green pigment that allows plants to absorb sunlight and turn it into food that can be stored for winter dormancy, much as a bear stores fat for hibernation. During the growing season, trees create chlorophyll as fast as they use it up, so leaves stay green. But as daylight declines, trees slow the production of chlorophyll until, finally, it stops. Producing more would be a waste of energy because, as temperatures near the freezing point, the process of photosynthesis slows to impractical levels.
While the green pigment ebbs from the leaf, other pigments hidden in the greenery during warm months begin to appear. Carotenoids—which produce the yellow, orange and brown colors in the flowers of daffodils and the roots of carrots, in the rinds of pumpkins and the peels of bananas—are present in leaf cells throughout the growing season, but they’re masked by the green pigment. Once the chlorophyll disappears, the carotenoids give leaves a burst of color.
Trees produce another pigment group, the anthocyanins, primarily in autumn. These pigments give red and purple to such things as blueberries, cherries, red apples, concord grapes, and plums. And autumn leaves. Possibly, their presence helps to lower the leaf’s freezing point, giving it some protection from cold and allowing leaves to remain in place longer, giving trees more time to absorb nutrients.
You can tell by the color of an autumn leaf what kind of pigment a tree specializes in. Oaks, dogwoods, black tupelo and some maplestend to turn red, brown or russet because they produce a lot of anthocyanins. Hickories, aspensand some maples (the most erratic of fall trees, obviously), are big on carotenoids, leading to the trees’ brilliant golds and yellows.
The precise timing of the color shift apparently is genetically controlled. Oaks, for example, are among the last trees to change color. Others, such as sourwood, flip the switch to fall colors as early as August. However, weather and soil moisture can affect the quality of fall color. A severe summer drought can delay fall color by a few weeks. A warm spell in autumn also tones down autumn colors.
The most-dazzling displays of scarlet and crimson occur in autumns marked by warm, bright days and cool, crisp nights with temperatures above freezing. Sun-lit autumn days stimulate leaves to produce sugars, and chill nights close the veins leading into and out of the leaf, locking in the sugars—which in turn lead to the production of anthocyanins and their crimsons and violets. Yellow and gold colors vary little from year to year, however, because leaves contain carotenoids at all times.
Eventually, autumn leaves must fall. By the end of summer, they may be damaged by insects, disease or general wear and tear and ready for renewal. They are equipped to self-destruct. At the point where leaf stem meets twig or branch is an array of cells called the abscission layer. As autumn days shorten, this layer begins to choke off the veins that move water into the leaf and food into the tree. Once the leaf is completely choked off, the layer becomes dry and flakey and, through decomposition, detaches the leaf from the tree.
Nature seems to abhor waste, so it is no surprise that though leaves may fall to earth, they still have not outlasted their ecological role. As they decompose, their nutrients trickle into the soil and feed future generations of plant and animal life. Quite likely, fallen leaves are a key factor in the survival not only of trees, but of forests as a whole.
This means that you need not militantly rake up every fallen leaf. In fact, leaving them on the ground is actually a very good thing to do for wildlife.
With their leaves gone, the trees are ready to take on winter’s slings and arrows. Naturalist Henry David Thoreau imagined it this way in his journal entry for October 29, 1858: “Nature now, like an athlete, begins to strip herself in earnest for her contest with her great antagonist Winter. In the bare trees and twigs what a display of muscle.”
That display of botanical muscle might still need a bit of help from the gardener. Water trees and shrubs through autumn, so they can begin winter with a head start on moisture. Even in winter, trees, especially young ones, can benefit from watering every three or four weeks when temperatures are above freezing. Dousing them early in the day gives them more time to absorb the water before night freezes the soil. As cold weather begins, wrap tree trunks with crepe-paper tree wrap or burlap until spring to prevent sun scald, which occurs when sunlight on a subfreezing day warms a tree trunk to as much as 40 some degrees above freezing, allowing ice to form in the tree cells during night cold and producing dead tissues that in spring will crack open.
Help wildlife in your neighborhood by becoming a wildlife gardener.
Garden for Wildlife!

The opossum is one of the most frequently encountered U.S. wildlife species, showing up in woods and swamps, plains and marshes, cities and suburbs—and in backyard gardens, where it may play some important roles in controlling garden pests and even in limiting ticks.
It may look like a big, grayish-white rat, but truly the opossum is something special in the realm of North American wildlife. Its ancestors can be traced back roughly 65 million years, to physically similar animals that lived in the shadow of the dinosaurs and probably fed on dinosaur eggs. Any creature that lasts that long with the same body plan is doing something right. The only U.S. marsupial, the Virginia opossum—named after the region in which Europeans first encountered it—has endured because its behavior is highly flexible—it can eat almost anything and find shelter almost anywhere.
Here are a dozen highlights you may enjoy about this neighborly species, which shares with you the habitat it has lived in for hundreds of thousands of years:


As omnivores, opossums will police your garden, feeding on insect pests, garden slugs, rodents, toads, snakes and even dead animals that might otherwise rot in place. They may pose an occasional threat to garden fruits and vegetables, but they tend to prefer plant matter that is starting to rot, so chances are they will help clean up, rather than clean out, your garden. If a ’possum does take up residence in your yard and dine on plants you consider off limits, you can use the following measures to stop it:
But in all, opossums are creatures with which you can probably live and let live—they come out after dark, so you may never see them, and they’ll run from you if you do; they eat pests; and they don’t carry rabies. They really are great wildlife neighbors!

Ants live in groups ranging from a few dozen that reside in natural cavities to sprawling colonies composed of millions. The ant species you’re likely to encounter in your backyard favor large colonies.
Breeding and social behaviors vary dramatically among species, but backyard ants, divided loosely into red and black species, fit a pattern that goes something like this:
Having been raised by the female, her first descendants get to work enlarging the nest, locating and bringing in food, and caring for the eggs that the female, which we generally call a queen, continues to lay (Note: some colonies have only one queen, some several, and some none, with eggs laid by breeding female workers).
As a queen reproduces, a colony can grow to millions of ants, most of them sterile, wingless females belonging to different castes, such as workers that remove dead ants from the nest and soldiers that defend the colony.
Workers generally live for one to three years, but colonies can last for as much as 30 years. Queens may last equally long. Males, whose lives consist of eating and breeding, don’t really have it as good as it sounds—they live for only a few weeks.
Like a maid in waiting, a young worker devotes its early life to tending the queen and her young. As she matures, the worker turns to such tasks as excavation and going outside the nest to find food.
Tending eggs and young is a full-time job. Eggs develop best when kept at controlled temperatures within the nest, so workers move eggs around as needed to stay within proper parameters. After hatching, the larvae are helpless. Workers feed them with a liquid they disgorge as well as with bits of plant and animal matter. Some ants capture and store prey in the nest and carry the larvae to the victims for feeding. In some species, the type of food the larvae receive determines whether they will grow up to be queens or workers.
Older workers forage for food outside the nest. Leaving the nest can be dangerous, which is probably why older ants do the foraging—they aren’t going to last much longer, so losing them to a bird, toad or other predator isn’t as critical as losing a vibrant, young worker.
When foragers find a good food source, they leave a trail of scent as they return to the nest. Other ants can follow the scent to the food. Scent plays other roles in ant life. Queens emit a scent that causes workers to feed larvae in a way that creates more workers. If a queen stops producing this scent, the workers will begin preparing larvae in a way that creates new queens. In some ants, if an individual is crushed, it releases an odor that puts other ants in attack mode.
Ant attacks can be painful. Some species have venomous bites and some bear stingers. The bullet ant of Latin America has the most painful sting of any known insect.
Although most ants are hunters or scavengers, some are farmers or ranchers. Latin American leafcutter ants, for example, collect leaves that they store in their colonies and use as fodder for growing a fungus that is the ants’ exclusive food. Other ant species bring insects, such as aphids or certain types of butterfly caterpillars, into the nest, where they care for and feed the captives. In turn, the ants eat secretions produced by their “livestock.” Some ants “herd” caterpillars in and out of the nest, taking them daily to “pastures” where the livestock can feed, then returning them to the nest.
Ants help natural plant communities to survive by feeding on plant pests and by carrying seeds through forests and grasslands, helping to disperse an estimated 3,000 plant species, including trilliums, violas, corydalis, bleeding heart, trout lilies and most violets.
Some plants coordinate flowering and fruiting with periods of peak ant activity, taking full advantage of the insects, and some produce seeds rich in fats that attract the ants, which bring the seeds into their nests. The ants feed the fat to larvae and discard the rest of the seed, allowing it to grow in the enriched soil of an anthill waste dump.
Ants help protect many garden plants. For example, peony blooms secrete a sweet fluid that attracts ants, which feed on the substance and protect the flowers from other insects.
Ants also serve as food themselves, eaten by predatory insects, spiders, frogs, lizards and birds, among other creatures. They constitute a large part of the diet of some North American bear species.
In North American backyards, ants may create aphid sanctuaries, protecting the aphids living on an individual tree or other plant and moving the aphids among various feeding sites. The ant’s habit of protecting aphids may not endear them to gardeners trying to free roses or other plants of the sap-sucking insects, but attempts to destroy ant colonies are usually counterproductive. When a nest is destroyed, the ground is simply cleared for invasion by another queen, and there are always going to be other queens in the offing. To keep ants from maintaining aphid herds on shrubs and trees, try painting stems and trunks with a sticky fluid or wrapping the bases of the plants with a sticky-surfaced tape.
Want to make the most out of gardening, and help wildlife (even ants!)? Become a wildlife gardener with the National Wildlife Federation. It’s free and you’ll get great wildlife gardening tips and learn how to certify your yard as an official habitat.
The oil industry extracts oil from tar sands within 250 feet of the surface through strip mining, tearing away the soil after clear-cutting forests and removing other vegetation. Drilling and the injection of high-pressure steam are used to reach deeper layers.
The extraction process is energy and water intensive. By 2007, Alberta’s tar sands operations were permitted to remove enough water from nearby rivers to meet the needs of a city of 3 million people. Water removal is projected to increase by at least 50 percent as additional projects become operational.
Most of the water comes from the Athabasca River—as much as 15 percent of the river’s weekly flow can be taken legally—causing concerns that low-flow periods will increase mortality of fish and other aquatic organisms that are a source of food for birds. As mining operations change regional wetlands, rivers and underground reservoirs, they threaten hundreds of thousands of birds dependent on these wetlands and waterways.
Tar sands operations destroy wildlife habitat by mining and by the creation of vast tailings ponds, as well as through fragmentation of mature forests by infrastructure for oil exploration, drilling, transport and processing. Some facts:
The boreal forest of northeastern Alberta is an important breeding area for nearly 300 bird species, at least 130 of which use the tar sands area. One square mile of forest in northeastern Alberta can support as many as 500 breeding pairs of migratory birds, some of the highest densities anywhere in Canada’s boreal forest. As many as 170 million birds breed yearly in the tar sands area. A recent study estimated that tar sands operations have caused the loss of as many as 402,000 birds. Some facts:
Tar sands oil production emits three times more global warming pollution per barrel than does conventional oil due to the large amounts of energy needed for processing. Carbon pollution from Canadian oil sands are expected to reach 108 megatonnes by 2020—a fifth of Canada’s current national emissions.
Temperatures in Canada’s boreal forest already have risen more than 7 degrees F in some areas over the past century, causing dramatic changes in the timing of ecosystem events, including the emerging of springtime insects and the mating and nesting of birds. Migratory birds may arrive too late to take advantage of insect emergence, which is key to providing adequate food for nestlings. Global warming also is shifting bird distributions and altering their migration behavior and habitat, diminishing their survival ability and threatening some species with extinction.
The industrial footprint of tar sands operations may double in the next 15 years. Some facts:
The devastation of invaluable wildlife habitat by tar sands operations is occurring in violation of international treaties to protect the shared migratory wildlife of Canada and the United States. In 1916, the two nations entered into the Migratory Bird Treaty, which gave rise to the Migratory Bird Convention, which protects birds that migrate between the countries. Under these agreements, President Obama and Secretary of State John Kerry can say no to pipeline projects, like Keystone XL, that will carry tar sands oil to ports on the Texas coast, enabling the tar sands industry to fulfill massive expansion plans.
Tell the Obama Administration to say no to the Keystone XL pipeline that will be used for this particularly dirty oil that threatens wildlife and habitat.
It was.
Was I happy to see it?
You bet.
I didn’t know until recently that some gardeners don’t like them. Apparently, chipmunks sometimes eat bulbs and ornamental flowers. Personally, despite the pleasure I get from seeing blossoms in my yard, I would just as soon grow chipmunks as nonnative ornamental plants. As for native plants, they should be adapted to chipmunks, given that one of the little rodent’s most important ecological roles is the spreading of seeds and, therefore, the spreading of plants, including those that produce berries—a benefit for many species.
Evolution must favor chipmunks, because it has made 21 species of them in North America. All but one of those species belongs to the genus of western chipmunks. The remaining loner is the eastern chipmunk, the denizen of my backyard, found across much of the eastern and central United States and Canada.
As a rule, chipmunks live in woodlands throughout much of North America. Relatives of tree squirrels, prairie dogs and various other ground squirrels, they are the pipsqueaks of the squirrel family—about the size of a mouse. Western chipmunks tend to be smaller than eastern, about 2 ounces to the eastern’s 4.5.
Immature forests and forest edges provide chipmunks with the shrubs, fallen logs and other items the rodents use for cover. Though they do climb trees in search of food, generally they forage on the ground for seeds, insects and other small edibles, including special fungi that live around tree roots and that are critical to tree survival. Chipmunks help to spread fungi within a forest, just as they help spread seeds.
Active by day, chipmunks shelter at night in burrows they may dig as much as 12 feet long but generally only about 3 feet deep. At the end of the burrow lies a sleeping chamber furnished with soft plant material. Some burrows include side tunnels and secondary dens. Although chipmunks tend to fight off other chipmunks that show up in the immediate area around their burrow openings, they share feeding areas with a minimum of fisticuffs.
Chipmunks produce one or two litters yearly, and young are on their own within eight weeks. Mean life expectancy is 2.3 years. During summer and fall, the rodents store seeds in their sleeping dens for use as winter food. When temperatures drop, chipmunks go underground. They don’t indulge in the deep hibernation favored by woodchucks, but instead tend to wake up periodically for a snack. On warm winter days, they may even surface above ground.
Chipmunks issue alarms calls when danger looms. Distinct calls indicate terrestrial predators and aerial predators, says Lisa Aschemeier, a biologist at Ohio’s Northwest State Community College who studies the animals. She has found that chipmunks also respond to the high-pitched alarm whistles of their relative the woodchuck, sometimes seeking cover after a woodchuck warning. Woodchucks, she says, pay less attention to chipmunk alarms, presumably because, at up to 12 pounds, they are so much bigger and need not fear as many predators as do chipmunks.
Woodchucks may not show much interest in chipmunk communications, but some bird species do. Chipmunks nosh on eggs and nestlings up to three days old when the opportunity arises. Particularly vulnerable to chipmunk attacks are veeries, a type of thrush that nests in shrubs up to 3 feet off the ground, and ovenbirds, which nest only on the ground. When these birds hear chipmunk calls, they sense danger. Kenneth Schmidt, a biologist at Texas Tech University who studies eastern chipmunks, says that veeries sometimes adjust the height of their nests in response to chipmunk calls. Both veeries and ovenbirds may shift their territories to avoid nesting within chipmunk range.
Like veeries, you, too, may want to take precautions against these cute little burrowers, especially if they have been snacking on your carefully planted bulbs. They can be discouraged without being killed, and here are some ways to do so:
Adapted in part from “The Key to Chipmunk Chatter,” National Wildlife magazine, April/May 2012
Become a Wildlife Gardener with National Wildlife Federation. It’s free and you’ll get great wildlife gardening tips and learn how to certify your garden as an official habitat.
Many songbirds are master builders, putting together intricately made weavings of twig and leaf, stem and fluff, hair and moss. Some nests, like the Baltimore oriole’s, will hang from a tree branch like a small tote bag. Others, like the robin’s, are cups bristling with twigs painstakingly collected one or a few at a time. Even if you provide birdhouses in your garden, the birds that occupy them will build nests in them.

So, what can you do about it? Well, you can provide nesting material of a wide variety of types that appeal to a wide variety of birds, attracting avians to your garden as surely as you would with a feeder.
You have two ways to provide nesting materials: You can grow plants that offer construction goods, or you can offer raw items.

For birds looking for small twigs, almost any tree or shrub you plant will do. When small branches or twigs fall from a shrub and gather at its base, leave them for birds to pick up, preferably in lengths under 4 inches.
Some birds line nests with soft plant matter. You can provide this accoutrement by growing catkin-bearing trees and shrubs such as cottonwood, maple, mulberry, willows, poplar and beech.
Many birds—hummingbirds spring to mind, but other songbirds as well—gravitate toward fluffy material, such as seeds with silky attachments designed to waft them on the wind or seed pods with a soft, hairlike covering. You can provide these items via cottonwood trees, lamb’s ear (ground cover), milkweed (also good for attracting monarch butterflies), honeysuckle, and clematis.
If you have a pesky spot in your garden that refuses to grow anything but dirt, try adding a little water and see if you can grow mud. Mud is a favored nesting material for swallows and swifts and even the common robin.
When you trim your yard, perhaps you can find a spot in your garden for laying out a selection of dried grass stems cut 2 to 4 inches long. Grass is a common ingredient in songbird nests, used by species from native sparrows to robins.
If you have a shady spot in your yard, trying growing moss; with its velvety green growth, moss is a beautiful highlight for any moist garden and is a favored building material of some hummingbird species.

Almost any kind of fur or wool will do. Dog fur is probably handiest for most people, especially when dogs are shedding in spring. Curry them, take the fur off the brush, and put it in your garden (we’ll talk below about ways to distribute it). If you use goat hair or wool from a sheep, cut longer pieces into 4- to 6- inch lengths. Animal fiber works well for nesting, because it is durable and not inclined to soak up water. Just don’t use any fur that has been treated with flea dips or insect repellents.
Please do not try to provide human hair for birds! Human hair is so thin that it can easily wrap around birds legs and necks, cutting off their circulation and causing serious injury or death.
Who doesn’t have a few snakeskins lying around going to waste? You don’t? Well, okay, but you never know when a snake might shed its skin in your yard. If you find one these integumentary artifacts—looking like thin, almost transparent parchment—hang it in a tree or shrub where a bird may find it and apply it to its décor.
You can offer fabric, yarn, twine or string made of natural fibers such as raw cotton, hemp, sisal or wool. These natural fibers won’t retain water in the nest, will eventually deteriorate naturally over time, and are similar to the fibers birds would find in the landscape. Cut them into one-inch-wide strips and in lengths under 6 inches long, and put them where birds will find them, such as on tree and shrub branches. Don’t use synthetic fibers or long lengths, which, like hair, can tangle and injure birds.
The lint collected in your dryer filter may seem like ideal nesting material, but it isn’t. It will soak up water and may be steeped with chemicals unhealthy for birds, such as remnants of detergent and softener.
So you have a collection of wool, dog hair and strips of natural fibers. How do you do deliver it to birds? My favorite method: Cram a mix of the items into a suet feeder, giving songbirds access to a smorgasbord of building basics. Or, fill the head of a kitchen whisk with the various materials and hang the whisk by its handle from a tree or shrub. Do-it-yourselfers might like tocheck out a designfor an easily made wire holder.
Aside from bribing them into your garden with foodstuff, providing nesting material is one of the best ways to attract spring and summer birds. If you offer it, they will build.

More information from National Wildlife magazine:
How to garden for climate change
Anyone prone to working the soil knows that upturning the earth exposes these shiny, wigging, pinkish to brownish tubular life forms, sending them thrashing in hasty retreat into the comforting, moist darkness of the soil.
That depends.
Here are 10 things you may want to know about earthworms.

BONUS FACT: Although eradicating earthworms in areas they have already invaded is virtually impossible in practical terms (the measures that wipe out earthworms, such as spraying with pesticides, also kill many other species), we can all help protect as-yet uninvaded ecosystems by keeping worms out of such areas. If you use earthworms for composting and live in a region near forests that have not been hit by earthworms, you can help by dropping use of the worms. Also, to avoid spreading earthworm eggs when fertilizing with composted materials, freeze your compost for at least a week before using it—freezing will kill eggs as well as the worms. If you use earthworms for bait fishing, don’t dump leftover worms onto the soil at the end of a day’s fishing. Remove them from the site, or throw them far enough into a pond that they will die before they can reach to shore. When planting new shrubs or trees in your garden or yard, examine any earth ball or potting soil for evidence of worms.
And what a wonderful thing snow is. Think of it—when temperatures are low enough, water falls from the sky in the form of a dry, white substance that can transform a landscape into a wonderland, as the song says. We can use this form of water to build igloos and snowmen and snowballs and have a snowball fight. We can sled and ski on it. We can melt it and drink it—it’s like instant water, and you don’t even have to add water to make it. Pretty amazing stuff.
The short answer: clouds. But of course, nothing is that simple.
Snow begins as droplets of water in clouds. The droplets gather together around a nucleus that can be a tiny ice particle, dust or even bacteria. Under freezing conditions, the nucleus allows the drops to form a lattice work, with more and more droplets accumulating into a mote of snow, or snowflake.
The pattern that a snowflake forms depends on temperature, humidity and movement of the flake through the atmosphere. Not all snow takes the classic flake form. Some form tiny columns or tubes. Because the forces creating any given snowflake are, if not unique, at least very unusual, it is highly unlikely, though not impossible, that any two snowflakes will be identical.
When snow falls to earth, it can take various forms, ranging from dry and powdery to hail, which shapes up when snow alternately melts and freezes during its fall, allowing wet globules to mash together.
When snow comes down in brief, light amounts, it constitutes a snow shower. A snow storm is heavy snowfall. Add wind, and you have a blizzard. However, falling snow is not a precondition for a blizzard—hard winds blowing snow already on the ground also qualifies. Question: How does snow fall at Washington State’s Mount Rainier? Answer: Very heavily—the mountain is subject to the highest average annual snowfall in North America, 641 inches, with highs in unusual years in excess of 1,100 inches.
The air between flakes of freshly fallen snow dampens the vibration of sound waves, giving the post-snowstorm world its reverently muted quality. Once snow melts and refreezes, the muffling quality is lost—ice doesn’t trap sound.
So let there be snow. Put a blanket of snow over plants, and they will be insulated from temperature fluctuations and from wind, especially if a thin crust of ice takes shape over the snow. The ground under snow does not freeze, so roots may even grow, if only a little, under a snow blanket, even as activity in branches stops. Following a winter of persistent snow cover, gardeners can anticipate healthier spring and summer plants, with more fruits and flowers.
Of course, every fluffy, white cloud has a dark lining, as the song doesn’t say, so naturally snow has some negatives. Notably, heavy snow can build up on tree branches, especially those of pine trees, causing branches to snap or young trees to bend and break. In nature, such fallen branches and trees may provide dens for wildlife, or breeding places for insects favored as food by birds. In the garden, however, you may want to whack low branches with a broom to knock off heavy snow.
In spring, melting snow becomes a vital water source for soil and plants. Even in summer, snowmelt retained in soil offer plants reserves of water.
Some species—the arctic fox, snowshoe hare and long-tailed weasel among them—are so well adapted to snowy environs that they change brown summer coats into white during snow season. However, changes in the duration of annual snow cover due to climate change seems to be disrupting this elegant system of camouflage, according to a paper published recently in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. Climate models suggest that the yearly duration of snow cover in snowshoe hare range, which lies across Canada and the northern reaches of the United States, could be reduced by as much as 40 days late in this century. Result: white hares against a background of brown soil and dead leaves, making the animals particularly visible to the predators that already account for 85 percent or more of hare mortality.
If snowshoe hare populations dwindle under the new regimen, the effects on a species such as the Canada lynx, which specializes in hunting the hares, could be significant. Other species that molt from brown to white in winter could be similarly beset with new survival challenges.
Become a wildlife gardener with National Wildlife Federation. It’s free and you’ll get great wildlife gardening tips and learn how to certify your garden as an official habitat.
You can also build a snow owl or snowshoe hare out of…snow. Then, learn how snow reveals the secret life of your backyard.
An example of how the commitment and generosity of NWF members turn into action on the ground can be seen in the efforts of John Schilbe, an NWF member since the 1970s, and his wife Debbie, who support the Federation’s work educating Americans about conservation and protecting wildlife, particularly bison and bighorn sheep through Adopt A Wildlife Acre.
Last year, John’s mother, Florence, passed away two days shy of her 100th birthday. For John and Debbie, it was a natural decision to honor Florence’s life with a memorial tribute to the National Wildlife Federation.
There she met John’s dad, Lloyd, who worked up the street at the State Capitol. Michigan law at the time precluded married women from working as teachers, so when Florence and Lloyd decided to marry, Florence turned in her resignation at the end of the school year and went to work raising her family. She brought up John with visits to zoos and the outdoors, and John believes Florence would have been an ardent advocate of Eco-Schools USA, the NWF program that strives to integrate science and environmentally sound practices into school curricula and improve science-based academic performance among students. “We appreciate the good work that NWF does,” John says, “and it feels right to honor my mother with a tribute in this meaningful way.”
Donors like the Schilbes who honor friends and relatives through their philanthropy are among NWF’s best advocates and the reason that the Federation’s conservation efforts continue. This holiday season, give a gift that creates a better future for wildlife by making a tribute gift. Or help wildlife by participating in Adopt A Wildlife Acre.
In making these calls, we touch base person-to-person with the people who make our work on behalf of wildlife possible, allowing NWF to protect species from bison to bears, whales to wolves, and to save habitat ranging from the Chesapeake Bay and Appalachian Mountains in the East to Pacific shores and Puget Sound in the West.
Each year, when I make my calls, I am impressed with the understanding and involvement of NWF donors.
One donor I talked with this year who really stood out for me was Joyce, a wildlife rehabilitator in West Allis, Wisconsin, who told me that earlier in the day, she had had to rescue a Cooper’s hawk that had crashed through a double-pane window in a private home, leaving a 12- to 15-inch hole in the glass. She turned the bird over to veterinary staff, who were checking it for injuries. It seemed likely to recover.
She also told me about a screech owl she had freed one time from a mouse sticky trap—a piece of heavy paper coated with a glue-like substance. Giving the owl its liberty was the work of minutes, but recovery of its feathers was a longer process. The mouse traps also had caught several sparrows. Joyce’s message: Don’t use sticky mouse traps outdoors, where they can capture nontarget species.
People like Joyce show that the commitment of NWF donors to wildlife is more than dollars deep, giving NWF staffers the gifts of inspiration and encouragement along with that of funding.
We can’t phone everyone on our donor list, which runs to thousands and thousands of people with a serious interest in wildlife, but with luck, our blogs can reach many more readers with a heartfelt thank you, and with wishes for a Happy Thanksgiving to you all!