Luzula

It is probably obvious from recent posts that I have been indulging in biology nerdery recently! Even before I moved in, I was looking forward to making a species list for my 10 hectares. I have various biotopes on my land: garden, pastureland with oaks, open field with grass, spruce plantation, clearcut, running water and a pond, and a small patch of deciduous forest. The wild trees and bushes I have are: oak, elm, lime, ash, hazel, maple, cherry, wild apple, birch, alder, aspen, rowan, alder buckthorn, bird cherry, red and black elderberry, spruce, and one tiny pine. : D This is obviously good for biodiversity!

I could of course have gotten much further on the list if I had been more active early in the fall, but I had just moved then and was, um, quite busy. But after Christmas, when I was at about 220 species, I thought, well, I'm going to reach 250 species by New Year! Which I did quite easily by focusing on mosses, which are a specialty of mine that I hadn't looked at much here so far. And then I thought, I'm going to get 300 species before my housemate is back from England! Which I have now managed, as he comes home tomorrow. Species number 300 was a roe deer that just wandered past. : D

It became more of a challenge after it snowed, but I managed: yesterday I got seven species by a combination of searching for specific ones I knew ought to be here somewhere, and by getting creative and, for example, seeing what insects might lurk in the cellar underneath the small cabin (answer: the mosquito Culex pipiens). I love digging where I stand, because it means that I also see new species I've never seen before. I mean, otherwise I would never have bothered with that mosquito! Yesterday I also identified two wood-living fungi I'd never seen before.

Here's a breakdown of what I have so far:
vascular plants: 89 (I'm bound to get more in the spring and summer)
mosses: 75 (I wonder how many more there are? perhaps 100-120 in total?)
fungi: 45 (I've barely scratched the surface, I know...)
lichens: 31 (there are so many crust lichens I can't identify!)
invertebrates: 30 (this can grow vastly in the spring/summer, if I only have time!)
birds: 26 (I'll be relying on previously mentioned housemate here; he's a serious birdwatcher)
mammals: 4 (roe deer, fallow deer, red squirrel, and a yellow-necked mouse which we caught in a trap and gave to the cat to eat--I ought also to be able to see wild pig and European hare which are certainly around here)
reptiles and amphibians: 1 (common toad)

Of course, I can also increase biodiversity with my own efforts: I'd like to have a pile of sand for hymenoptera and other insects to make nests in, and make sure to have flowering plants to attract insects, etc.

I did not expect to have Internet today! Nor electricity. I expected to have to light a woodstove for warmth--but no, Norway has luxuries.

( More about Norway, with photos )

This weekend I went birdwatching with my dad and two of his cousins; we were at Falsterbo in the southernmost part of Sweden, where the migrating birds are funneled out to the tip of a cape. Much of the waders are long gone, and so are the warblers, who fly invisibly at night. The huge flocks of pigeons and jackdaws have not begun yet. But we saw plenty of starlings, flying in purposeful and tightly coordinated flocks, their wings beating regularly. Just as purposeful, but less coordinated, are the flocks of finches, who fly in bursts: a moment of effort, a moment of rest.

But my favorites are the tits, who are not purposeful at all: they come in loose, chaotic flocks and, when they reach the shore, go: 'oh noooo, it's the sea, how scary it is! are we really sure we want to do this?!?' And then they dive down and take shelter in the bushes, which were seething with them. After a minute, they rise again, take aim at the sea...and then often chicken out again at the last moment, even though you can see the white cliffs of Dover Stevns Klint on the horizon on the Danish side. Until they successfully set off. I do feel for them! Many of the blue tits stay year-round in Sweden, but the population is so high that many of them also leave, and this is the largest sea crossing they have. Tits are not made for the sea. Meanwhile, the gulls glide casually by in ones and twos, in their element.

There were also plenty of birds of prey, mostly sparrowhawks, coming in low to the ground against the headwind--I could see their banded wings and bellies. In the afternoon, they rise in the thermals above the large heath inland from the cape, then leisurely glide south and out to sea: common buzzards, sparrowhawks, red kites, common kestrels, western marsh harriers. We also saw a white-tailed eagle, but I don't think it was on the move.

I only saw one bird new to me: the egret (I'd seen it in England but not in Sweden). But also a few I'd only seen once or twice before: a flock of common pochards (ha, not so common), a few ruffs (currently without their ruffs), a Sandwich tern, and some brent geese.

Other birds seen (an incomplete list): Teal, wigeon, northern pintail, gadwall, shelduck. Common ringed plover, grey plover, dunlin, common greenshank, common redshank, pied avocet, curlew, bar-tailed godwit. And a number of herons, of course. : D

I have spent the last two nights in a shelter in the forest, trying to see the capercaillie lekking. Capercaillies are large grouse birds, where the cocks fight each other and do a mating display dance; to see this you need to go into the camouflaged shelter at about five in the afternoon and then be absolutely silent from then on until you leave it at about eleven the next morning. Also, the shelter will be very cold, and you have to get up at three in the morning so as to get the getting up out of the way before the birds start. And there's no guarantee that you'll see much.

I paid a guide (who is an acquaintance of mine) to go on one of his tours for this; you can of course do it yourself, but then you need to know a place where they do the lekking and also set up a shelter long in advance so they get used to it. The three other people on this tour were all retired white men with huge camera equipment.

The first morning, I saw a cock strut past the shelter (looking cock-sure). I also heard two cocks fighting some distance away, making impressive thuds--they bang their wings against each other as well as use their beaks. But I didn't see them. Also I heard the mating display sounds (kind of a ticking noise) but only saw glimpses since it was behind a rock spur. I did see the cock leap upwards once though!

The second morning, I heard really well the noises of the cocks coming down from the trees before dawn with a fluttering thud, like they're making their entry into the ring. Also I heard the hens in the trees making a cooing sound. Then nothing, nada, silence. The guide said there was probably a predator nearby and that he thought he'd heard a northern goshawk. Ah well. It was a lovely morning for it otherwise, with frost, a clear sky, and no wind.

I do wish I'd seen more, but obviously they're not performing for my sake! Now to catch up on sleep...

I'm back from the forest survey! Some photos and stories below...

( Read more... )

Here are some photos from my pandemic summer. I've spent it with my parents, either sailing or being at the family summer place.

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And now I'm going home in a couple of days, since I got my second shot a week ago (Pfizer, no side effects whatsoever except a slight soreness in my arm) and will unfortunately need to start working soon. Meh.

1) Work hit me like a brick wall in the first week of the semester: a fully online course, and one that I've never taught before, with about a hundred students, who are all new. So tons of questions, etc, mostly of a practical nature. Ugh. Hands hurt, shoulders stiff.

2) Nevertheless I have finished drafts of two big fannish projects lately: one is the audiobook of Flemington, by Violet Jacob, for Librivox. It'll be about eight hours. The other is the alternate ending of my latest Flight of the Heron fic; I am very pleased that it went over 30K, thus putting the whole verse over 100k! \o/

3) Am now working from the family summer place for a week. Look at all the mushrooms Mom and I picked today! They are almost all the delicious Boletus edulis. Now we just have to slice and dry them all...

( Mmmmm, mushrooms )

Well, I thought I would post something not related to my current fannish obsession, so: some photos from last summer! I suppose this post could double as some sort of "Visit Sweden's Beautiful Nature" commercial. Which is fine; do come visit! : )

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Here's what I did in the mountains! I'm a bit late posting it; that's because I've spent an intense five days doing forest surveys.

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Sorry for not including photos! I promise to post some later.

A Siberian Jay has fed from my hand. ♥♥♥ I didn't manage to get that moment on camera, because they're quick! But here they are:



They are reddish-brown birds in the Corvid family that live in old-growth forest in the taiga. Although they live so far from human habitation, they are inquisitive birds that will happily come and share your meal when you take a break from cross-country skiing. They are one of my favorite birds!

For good measure, here is also a view of the landscape I'm skiing through: