Cable Natural History Museum

As mother nature slowly begins to tease us with the occasional warm day, and longer periods of sunlight, I can’t help but dream of warmer days spent exploring outside, underneath the forest canopy. One of my favorite things to do while exploring the forest is to take in the intricacies of the forest floor, and discover the diverse life that inhabits that space. Between the litter layer, growing mosses, and decaying logs, a utopia full of life is waiting to be unearthed.

The post 417 – Mushroom Munching Slugs first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.

Seeing a moth seemed to signal that evening was coming, and our thoughts turned to owls. Sax-Zim Bog is famous for hosting rare owls. Last year was an incredible irruption year when great gray owls, boreal owls, and snowy owls visited from their homes farther north. This year has been much quieter. A few great gray owls nest here, but lately they’ve been secretive. We’d heard that a northern hawk owl was hunting at the edge of a field on some of the private land that makes up the patchwork of ownership in Sax-Zim Bog Important Bird Area in Northern Minnesota, so off we went!

The post 416 – “Whooo” will we see? first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.

The Canada jays swooped from the feeding station, back over my head, and disappeared into the forest behind me. Were they taking peanut butter to their chicks? These intrepid birds nest in February and March! That’s one reason their food caches are so important.

The post 415 – Peanut Butter Saves the Jay first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.

Early spring is when male fishers travel widely in search of mating opportunities. I often see their tracks in the softening snow as they tour their 9-15 square mile home ranges that overlap the smaller territories of several females.

The post 414 – Fishers Looking For Love first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.

I stared open-mouthed in disbelief at the cat crossing the neighborhood street in front of my new house in Silver Bay, MN (I’ll be moving up full time in 2027). Trotting purposefully on long legs, with a body almost three feet long, this was no housecat. “Bobcat!” I exclaimed, eyeing the black tip on their short tail and dark blotches on gray-brown fur. Bobcats are common in Northern Wisconsin where I’ve been living for the past 15 years, and are often spotted around homes and roads, so that was the most likely identification my startled brain could find. 

But as the cat climbed up the pile of dirty snow on the curb and into my neighbor’s yard, the size of their huge, furry feet came into full view. That, along with long black ear tufts visible against the white, confirmed their identity: Canada lynx.

The post 413 – The Elusive Lynx first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.

Evening grosbeaks are colorful members of the finch family. These bright birds travel widely toward the best food sources in movements known as “irruptions.” In 2016, the evening grosbeak was cited as the steepest declining landbird in the continental United States and Canada. Together, networks of scientists and legions of bird-lovers are working to make sure that the Sun isn’t setting on evening grosbeaks.

The post 412 – Is the Sun Setting on Evening Grosbeaks? first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.

As my boots crunched and sunk into the snow, the trees were shedding bits of snow that littered their branches, dispatched by the wind. In my attempts to avoid getting showered by falling snow, I found myself walking among scattered giants. Standing next to the old eastern hemlock, staring up at the towering trunk, I began to feel very small as I imagined what this tree has lived through and the things that they have seen. How many generations of songbirds have nested in their branches, or found food in their cones? How many generations of deer, bears, wolves, and other wildlife have they seen treading beneath their branches? How have they seen us change, and do they like what they see? How have they watched the world change around them, as they stand rooted in place?

The post 411 – Stories in the Hemlocks first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.

“‘I know the moon,’ said the fox”

My colleague read this title line aloud from a children’s book recently, as part of a staff training. At first, I was just as enchanted with the story as she was. The fox goes on to describe how the Moon is like a rabbit that he can chase across the night. The moth disagrees with the fox, though, as does the owl, the mouse, and the bullfrog. The animals start bickering about who’s right. They decide to visit A Man of Science, and each Being hopes that he will confirm their perspective. But the Man of Science declares that the Moon is made of sand, and nothing more.

I sensed that the author was trying to make some point about how the facts and figures of science are out to squash wonder in the world. How horrible that would be! I realized that the author had constructed a strawman argument by setting up a simplistic imagined opponent that’s easy to knock down. Giving children an incorrect view of science and scientists isn’t going to help them navigate our changing world. It isn’t going to help them to know the Moon.

The post 410 – How Do We Know the Moon first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.

The idea that a woodpecker's tongue provides cushioning for their brain as it wraps around their skull has come into question. The newest calculations, made with the most accurate modern technology, refute the idea that a woodpecker's brain is cushioned at all!

Of course, any of these conclusions might be proven wrong or incomplete as scientists discover new information in the future. The beauty of science is that it requires us to be able to change our minds in light of new evidence. One thing that doesn’t need to change is the magic we feel when we watch a great black bird with a flaming topknot spread their broad wings and with a few swooping beats disappear into the forest.

The post 409 – Why Woodpeckers Don’t Get Concussions first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.

Brown creepers are cute little bits of camouflage with white bellies. This one moved upward in staccato motions, a bit to the side, around to the back, back to the front, and up some more. Pausing, the bird used their thin, downward-curving bill to explore a bark furrow. Perhaps they had spotted an overwintering insect larvae or antifreeze-protected spider for their lunch. Near the limit of my view out the window, the creeper suddenly launched off the tree and fluttered downward toward another tree trunk, out of sight.

The post 408 – Cute Bits of Camouflage first appeared on Cable Natural History Museum.