Nature Notes: Disappearing Flowers
America is making progress at bringing back lost species of flowers and plants, while simultaneously better protecting animal species that were most vulnerable. The gray wolf and grizzly bear, two species that were approaching extinction in the latter quarter of the 20th century, are now becoming so common in some areas that several states allow hunters to shoot them.
The bald eagle is no longer endangered and is again spreading its wings in every state, with the exception of Hawaii. In these parts ospreys, which were sadly failing on Long Island and the rest of the Atlantic coast because of accumulated DDT in their systems and eggs, are almost as common today as they were prior to the widespread use of that pesticide. With every passing year on the East End, the number of starter nests atop manmade poles increases almost exponentially. Piping plovers, roseate terns, and least terns appear to be holding their own, but still need day-to-day attention during the breeding season.
For endangered, threatened, and otherwise rare native plant species, it’s a different matter. Take the federally endangered sandplain gerardia, Agalinis acuta, for example. In the 1920s when the Long Island botanist Norman Taylor was studying Montauk’s flora, this plant covered the downs with its pink-purple flowers from Fort Pond all the way to Montauk Point.
Since being rediscovered in Montauk, namely at Shadmoor State Park in the early 1980s, it was given extra protection. However, on a Sept. 3 search of the park, at a time when they should be blooming, not a one was seen. During the 1980s and earlier, Rita’s Stables on the north side of Montauk Highway in Ditch Plain would send out riding groups that would crisscross Shadmoor’s then private trails. The horses would graze along the way, keeping the field low. The sandplain gerardia prospered. When the weekly horse rides were no longer allowed, Shadmoor’s grasslands began to grow up into savanna fields. The gerardia population thinned and now has practically disappeared.
Another state rarity, the bushy frostweed, was also holding out in Montauk, occupying the hill across from Gurney’s Resort on Old Montauk Highway and Ram’s Level in Hither Woods. The hill’s frostweeds and orchids succumbed to clearing for a new house; the Ram’s Level grassy spot has been growing up in the past 30 years and soon will be a second-growth forest. Russell Hoeflich, a former head of the South Fork-Shelter Island Nature Conservancy and lately head of the Peregrine Falcon Fund in Idaho, trans planted some early on to the Conservancy’s Montauk Mountain Preserve west of the Montauk School and Second House Road, but they are losing out to overgrowth there as well.
Speaking of peregrine falcons, not so long ago they were as rare as the bald eagle, but have been making a comeback via a program started by Tom Cade, former director of Cornell’s Ornithological Laboratory and creator of the Peregrine Fund. The program to bring them back is popularly referred to as “hacking.” In fact, Marge Winski, who grew up in Montauk and once was a student of mine at Southampton College in the 1970s, hacked some of the first peregrine falcons on the roof of the Con Edison Building in New York City in the 1980s.
To get the peregrines back, in an ingenious but risky move, Tom removed baby peregrines from existing nests, established them on high-up spots like the top of the Con Ed building, and had them fed by hand, often with a puppet glove resembling an adult peregrine. I was lucky enough to accompany Marge to the top of the Twin Towers after a summer of hacking to look for her charges. No sooner had we reached the top than one flew by as if to say, “Thanks to you I can fly on my own.” She recognized it and both of our hearts tingled.
Peregrines now breed on Long Island annually on a ledge of the Nassau County medical building and atop various bridges that span the East and Hudson Rivers. I saw two peregrines, an adult pair or a pair of siblings, flying over a field south of Kellis Pond two Mondays ago. Don’t be surprised if a pair starts nesting in the next few years on a high spot such as one of the microwave towers scattered around, the old radio tower on Napeague, the high rise condominium on Fort Pond in Montauk that dates back to the 1920s, or on the Lighthouse itself, ironically, the very spot where you are likely to find Ms. Winski, the keeper of the light, writing poetry and other literary pieces and keeping a journal.
In the meantime, it would seem based on annual counts that we are losing some birds. Wood thrushes, towhees, and ovenbirds are much scarcer now then previously. The latter two are ground-nesters and I suspect are intimidated by the wild turkeys, which are more and more prolific since their release in Hither Woods by the State Department of Conservation in January of 1991 and more widely since then.
While another ground-nester, the whippoorwill, has disappeared from the woods around the East Hampton Airport and from other wooded areas in Springs, Northwest Woods, part of Amagansett, and most of Southampton, it is surviving on Napeague and in the northeastern part of Hither Woods.
The state-endangered tiger salamander is holding its own in Southampton, Riverhead, and Brookhaven, but has yet to be rediscovered in East Hampton, where it once was. A close relative, the blue-spotted salamander, also on Long Island, can only be found these days in Montauk, but there are old records of them in Sag Harbor and elsewhere on the South Fork. While those two mole salamanders survive here with two others in the group, the spotted and marbled salamanders, another amphibian, the southern leopard frog, has disappeared from the Island.
Lately I am concerned about the leadback morph of the red-backed Salamander, a lungless one, that lives under fallen logs and in the leaf litter. I have only found one, again in Montauk, in the last five years of searching. I suspect that they have fallen prey to turkeys or some other creature that feeds in the leaf litter.
The last Long Island southern leopard frog population, at the south end of Oyster Pond in Montauk, has apparently bitten the dust. The species is gone from the rest of the Island, as well. The cricket frog, diminutive as the spring peeper, hasn’t been seen or heard in decades.
As for the gray fox, skunk, and mink, they are gone from the South Fork, while woodchucks and flying squirrels have moved in to fill the void. Lastly, the Long Island timber rattlesnake hasn’t been seen on Long Island since the Long Island Rail Road was pushing through the South Fork on its way to Montauk in the late 1800s. Likewise, the smooth green snake hasn’t been seen here for many a year. On the up side, the hognose snake, or puff adder, continues to hold out despite pilfering from time-to-time by UpIslanders. So, you see, it is kind of a crapshoot: some good news, some bad news.
What about good old Homo sapiens? What will happen to our species? It’s hard to tell, but no matter what, there is little chance that we will ever die from loneliness.
Larry Penny can be reached via email at [email protected].