The “Snerfelings of Armadillos”

For weeks, the mulch was lying there, inert, doing its “mulchy” thing, but then just the other morning, I stepped out to see a maze of trenches zigzagging through the bushes.  Aha!  A clear sign that there has been a whole lot of “snerfeling” going on in the night.  “Snerfeling” is my own term for the routings of Armadillo’s, following their nose through the mulch in search of some yummy beetle or other.  It’s the term I use with school kids on my nature walks and it is one of the easiest animal signs in this area to come upon.  It is a combination of the armadillo’s nose pointed to the ground, plowing through the mulch sniffing, and shuffling along in search of its food that leaves these curving trenches. The “er” in “snerf” makes it sound more like a verb to me. 

Armadillo’s have a great sense of smell, perhaps I have told you before, and can sniff out its insect meal several inches under ground.  I would love to see my nighttime visitor, tunneling its way through my mulch but I never have.   Most times it is doing me a favor, keeping the population of beetles down, beetles that might be happy to eat at the roots of these plants.  Just as a skunk helps you keep the grubs in check in your yard is doing you a favor that saves you money and time spreading grub control. 

They say July and August are the peak “love” months for armadillos.  Now I can wonder if the many trenches I saw were made by one industrious armadillo or a pair out foraging together. No lifelong commitment for the armadillo but I have read that the male will follow the female while she is feeding, but if he doesn’t keep up, she will leave him in the dust.  Focus Mr. Armadillo.  A wagging tail shows that she will accept his overtures and the rest is too delicate to discuss. 

 The amazing thing about armadillo’s is that it is one of those rare mammals that can delay fertilization, somehow keeping it all on hold for a year if the season rolls around again but no males come calling.   

My bucket list of things I wish I could see an armadillo do:

Leap into the air with all fours when startled by something; they call it bucking.

Carry its nesting material close to its chest while hopping backwards towards its den. That’s how the books describe it.

Find their scat!  For all the armadillo signs I see, this is never one of them!  They say they often make a scrape, use that, and then cover it up, so clearly not an easy thing to come upon.  But I can hope.  After all, all this apparent snerfeling that lead no doubt to eating should inevitably lead to what I seek, should it not? 

Watch an armadillo swimming across water where it will gulp air as it goes, rising ever higher in the water, as it gets more buoyant.  I would need special equipment to see their other mode of crossing the creek, which is just tiptoeing across the bottom, hippo style.  It turns out they are really good at holding their breath, so if it is not too far, that’s the method they use.

Until I see any of these things, I will just have to take it on faith that they do them.  Just the way you will have to take it on faith that “snerfeling” is a perfectly good word. 

A New Scat in Town

 

New to me, that is.  To any Texan who keeps his eye on the ground these may be familiar droppings.  Chunky brown, then white on the end, not quite the “Dairy Queen” swirl of turkey droppings but reminiscent of it, only larger.  As I thought about it, I had an “Aha!” moment.  What had I noticed crossing the road here several times- the neighborhood Roadrunner. God bless the Internet that can show you images of such things and Bingo!  There it was on the page just as I had seen it on the road. 

I have seen roadrunners far more frequently this year and it makes sense.  All that rain lead to “amphibian heaven” which I’m sure is a real treat not only to snakes but the roadrunner too.  90% of its food is animal matter, anything from insects to lizards (watch out my cute little anoles!) small birds, and just to dazzle us with it’s bravado, scorpions and reportedly rattlesnakes.   One account said they saw a pair of roadrunners work together, one distracting the snake while the other went for the head.  Check out their hefty bill, capable of doing some damage it would seem.

Here’s something to put on your bucket list; they say when a roadrunner catches a snake that is longer than it is, it just eats what it can and lets the rest dangle from the beak eating it as space allows!  Seeing them with lizards dangling is fairly common but one assumes they are either bringing it to the nest or to a more private place to dine.

The pair that got the rattlesnake just may have been a “pair” for roadrunners stay with their mate throughout the year, and both are territorial.  Their home range is about a half a mile wide, so indeed, these are “our” roadrunners.  Male and female look alike so I don’t know which one I am seeing at any given time.  I haven’t spotted any juveniles yet, but with the bounty of food I bet they are out there.  I had a chance to help feed a young roadrunner at the Wildlife Rescue and boy, there’s a face only a mother could love!  Huge scarlet-lined beak, speckled, almost starling-like in color and sooooo loud.  There was no need to wonder if someone had fed it or not!

And about that scat that ends in white, or that white splatter that is adorning your windshield, have you ever wondered why it was white when most scat tends to be brown?  You know you have.  And perhaps you know the answer.  With birds and reptiles, all waste products come out from one opening in one tidy or not-so-tidy (if you have been around sea birds or large herons, you know what I mean) bundle.  The white is uric acid and has all the nitrogenous products in it, in a white paste.  That way their bodies eliminate the waste with far less water loss.  Now you know.

And forgive me for the somewhat erroneous title of this entry for technically, bird

droppings are not referred to as scat but as, well, droppings or guano but to my mind that conjures up sea bird colonies or bat colonies.  But either way it isn’t called scat.  It just sounded better in the title!  “A New Dropping in Town”, doesn’t have the same ring to it.  So, the next time a bird festoons your car with droppings you will have a real conversation starter won’t you? No need to thank me.

Why did the roadrunner cross the road? To give Pat something to blog about on this too-hot-to-be-out day!  And many more hot ones to come.  What obscure topics will I find to keep me in by the fan?  Stay tuned and we shall see.

Trying to Embrace Sweating

Trying doesn’t imply succeeding.  While I was gadding about in the East, my yard was sending out vines enough to ensnare a castle.  They were creeping over pathways, up trees, covering the deck.  And such variety; Mustang grape, Virginia creeper, Texas Bindweed, Wild Morning glory, Cowitch Vine with its fleshy leaves that smell like cigars to me and of course Poison Ivy and the intentional by previous owner but getting so out of control, English Ivy. 

Many of the vines have their good attributes, berries for birds, hiding places for lizards, ground cover that lets the beetles and so many insects, mosquitoes included, find good hiding and breeding grounds.

  But for the trees they are growing over, not so much.  So wielding my clippers and kneeler and a big jug of water I go out each morning to do battle.  And instantly, I am sweating.  How do the construction workers, roofers, landscapers do it?  Clearly made of sterner stuff than yours truly.

Kneeling in all this ivy does put me right in chigger and mosquito land.  Both love this damp soil shaded by the ivy, both are more than happy to see “meals on wheels” delivered to their door.  So along with embracing sweating I must find some positive angle to scratching.  No luck on that one so far.

The positive side, I suppose, is thinking that the trees and bushes that had been bound up in bindweed are stretching those branches out when I am done. The elbow tree that hasn’t seen the sun but just a curtain of wild grape may get its chlorophyll factory going again.  The path covered with vines will no longer be a set up to see if maybe I could break another arm or leg.  So the toil is worth it.

Sightings of insects, birds etc. add a measure of joy.  I was just about to remove the stalk of an old yucca plant when a lovely dragonfly came and perched on it, then flew his territorial square and came back to land on it again.  Dragonflies often have a favorite perch so I am glad I left it.   

The most exciting thing I saw while pulling vines was a beautiful, unmistakable butterfly called a Zebra Longwing (Heliconius charitonia). 

 

 You are probably more likely to see these in Mexico or Central America but they have wandered our way fairly often.  My “Mother Nature” friend has a gorgeous passion vine and perhaps it is this host plant that draws them.  Females are pretty choosy about where they lay their eggs and if other eggs have been laid there, they will go in search of another spot so the larvae don’t eat the poor plant to death.   AND, how cool is this, some of the vines grow their own “egg like” protrusions on their leaves to fake out the butterflies!

Butterflies in this Heliconiidae family are also unique in that they don’t simply drink nectar, but they have a way of dissolving the pollen too and it is their own fountain of youth.  While many butterflies live no more than a few weeks, these, with their fortified diet, can live for up to 6 months.  AND if you can believe what you read (USDA info page on Zebra longwings) then they add another notch to their belt by being said to be intelligent! Not “go to Harvard” intelligent but they have a pecking order when roosting, oldest butterflies choosing the best perches, and they say they nudge each other when it is time to “get up and get at it”! AND although everyone thought their toxicity came from the plants they eat, some scientists are saying, “Not so fast”. It could be that they somehow produce the toxins themselves.  Mysteries to be unraveled by all you up and coming entomologists!

 

 So, no, I have not warmed up (pun intended) to sweating away out there, but at least it is not without some rewards.  If I had stayed in the house, I wouldn’t have seen that lovely and so savvy butterfly.  Which is what I always told the people I walked with.  I cannot guarantee nature. Who knows what we might see?  But I CAN guarantee that if you stay inside, you won’t see as much.  Not entirely true is it?  If you have windows that look out on any trees or open space you still will see a lot IF you are looking. But you get the idea.  I am just trying to talk myself into going out there each day!