A Tropical Flash in the Desert

Collared Lizard near Hovenweep NM
Courtesy US NPS
Jacob W. Frank, Photographer
Collared Lizard near Hovenweep NM
Courtesy US NPS
Jacob W. Frank, Photographer
Not long ago, while walking up a gravel road in Bears Ears National Monument, my eye was distracted by a flash of brilliant, almost neon green against the red rocks and sand. Soon I got another glimpse, just as brilliant, just as green. If you’ve hiked the canyons of southern Utah, you may have already guessed what I was seeing – male Eastern collared lizards scuttling behind rocks to avoid a potential predator: me.

Collared lizards are among the more common reptiles of the arid Southwest, and also one of the more interesting ones. They’re known for their sprinting ability, reaching speeds of 16 mph when they feel threatened, often running solely on their hind legs. They’re also highly territorial – if two males are placed in the same cage, they’ll fight to the death. But what captured my interest on that warm spring morning was their flashy coloration.

More to the point, I was thinking that it didn’t seem to make sense for a desert animal to flaunt flamboyant colors. Most other desert lizards in Utah – whiptail and sagebrush lizards, side-blotched and fence lizards – are content to blend into the scenery. But male collared lizards look more at home in the jungle than in the desert, with blueish-green speckled bodies and tails, and a bright yellow head. Females are green, too, although their colors are more muted and often brownish.

It’s not uncommon for males and females of a species to sport different colors. The scientific term for this is sexual dimorphism. You see it often in birds like songbirds and ducks. Males will flash bright hues – the sublime sky blue of a mountain bluebird, the blazing orange of a Bullock’s oriole, the exuberant red, black, and yellow of a Western tanager – while females of the same species tend to be grayish or brown or dull yellow, with just a hint of the male’s glory.

This makes sense if the main purpose of coloration is camouflage. Female lizards are vulnerable to predators when bearing or caring for young, so there’s a survival advantage to matching their environment. First-year males are often colored much like females – helpful as they learn to fend for themselves. But shouldn’t the adult males want to blend in, too?

It seems male coloration also has to do with babies, but in a different way. A conspicuous male is more likely to find a mate. He’s visible. He stands out. A female lizard can find him when she needs him. Brightness also helps these lizards in another way. Remember how male collared lizards are viciously territorial? Conspicuous, vivid color helps them avoid unexpected confrontations with other males.

Of course, there’s a tradeoff here. If female lizards can easily find a male, so can predators.
Some years ago, scientists took some toy lizards, painted them in collared-lizard colors, set them out on rocks in classic lizard poses, and watched to see what would happen. As we might expect, they found that if a lizard stands out in contrast to its environment, it’s more likely to be attacked by snakes, birds, or rodents. So it’s a good thing that in addition to being fancy dressers, collared lizards are also world-class sprinters.

I’m Mark Brunson, and I’m wild about Utah’s colorful and camouflaged animals.

Credits:

Images Courtesy US NPS, Jacob W. Frank, Photographer, https://www.nps.gov/media/photo/view.htm?id=5B13C294-155D-451F-67F7-7D12491DF54D
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections and Shalayne Smith Needham https://upr.org/
Text: Mark Brunson, https://www.usu.edu/experts/profile/mark-brunson/
Additional Reading: Mark Brunson, https://www.usu.edu/experts/profile/mark-brunson/

Additional Reading

Other pieces by Mark Brunson: https://wildaboututah.org/?s=brunson

Division of Wildlife Resources. Eastern collared lizard (Crotaphytus collaris). Utah species field guide. https://fieldguide.wildlife.utah.gov/?species=crotaphytus%20collaris

Husak, J. F., Macedonia, J. M., Fox, S. F., & Sauceda, R. C. (2006). Predation cost of conspicuous male coloration in collared lizards (Crotaphytus collaris): an experimental test using clay‐covered model lizards. Ethology, 112(6), 572-580. https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1439-0310.2005.01189.x

Strand, Holly, The Lizard and His Tail, Wild About Utah, June 11, 2009, https://wildaboututah.org/the-lizard-and-his-tail/

Sound Can Brighten the Dingy Days

Red-winged Blackbird Male
Courtesy Pixabay, Nichole Linzmeier, Contributor
Red-winged Blackbird Male
Courtesy Pixabay, Nichole Linzmeier, Contributor
For many of us who love the outdoors, the first half of March is a least favorite time of year. It’s a drizzly season. In northern Utah’s urban valleys, the lingering patches of snow are tinged with dirty gray that mirrors the dingy sky. Winter has lost its cleansing power, yet the budburst and first blooms of springtime are still weeks away. But if we close our eyes and listen, nature still can brighten the dingy days. A week or so ago, my wife and I stopped by a wetland we like near the Great Salt Lake. It had snowed the day before, and the marsh was half frozen. The remaining open water was packed with wintering waterfowl – pintails and coots and gadwalls and geese. We rolled down the car window to listen, and were greeted by the glorious cacophony of red-winged blackbirds.

That’s the bright side of early March. It’s a time when the early songbirds start to exercise their vocal chords. You might hear the complex warbling of a house finch, or the sweet piping “hee-did-it” of the black-capped chickadee. But to me, nothing says springtime like a blackbird’s song in an awakening marsh. It’s not a pretty sound, but it’s boisterous and exuberant. It embodies the joy of springtime.

But why now? Why not wait till things warm up a bit? And how do they know, when the nights can still be frigid and the days can still be dreary, that it’s time to gear up for spring?

The answer has nothing to do with temperature or precipitation. It’s a trick of the light. Or more specifically, the length of the day. For birds, that’s the most reliable calendar. When the time between sunrise and sunset reaches a certain number of minutes, photo-receptors in the avian brain trigger the production of hormones. That stimulates their sexual organs, telling the male blackbirds it’s time to get feisty. They begin to stake out nesting territories, singing their superiority to brothers and cousins. By the time the females arrive a few weeks later, they’ve sorted things out and are ready to mate and raise babies.

Unfortunately, not everything in nature uses daylength as an alarm clock. Plants and insects respond better to temperature. As the world’s climate changes, tree leaves emerge earlier, and so do the creatures that love to eat those tender spring shoots. The downside of change is exemplified by the plight of the European pied flycatcher. These birds spend the winter in Africa, flying north when daylength triggers the urge to migrate. For centuries they’d arrive just as caterpillars were emerging to feed on new foliage – a perfect source of protein to feed their hatchlings. But since daylength hasn’t changed while the climate has, now the flycatchers’ timing is off. Food is scarcer. Fewer nestlings survive.

Scientists have a name for this: phenological mismatch. We’re seeing more and more examples in nature where the timing of life events is off. It’s likely that a few species will adapt. Birds that get antsy early – jumping the gun on migration – will be favored by natural selection. But evolution takes time, and many species will suffer. In the meantime, we can take heart in knowing we can still count on songbirds to brighten this dreariest of seasons.

I’m Mark Brunson, and I’m wild about the sounds of Utah nature.

Credits:

Images Courtesy Pixabay, Nichole Linzmeier (Linzmeier1), Contributor https://pixabay.com/photos/bird-red-winged-black-bird-red-5276962/
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections and J. Chase and K.W. Baldwin. https://upr.org/
Text: Mark Brunson, https://www.usu.edu/experts/profile/mark-brunson/
Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Faherty, Mark, Never mind the temperature, increasing photoperiod means birds are singing louder and longer, CapeandIslands.org owned and operated by the WGBH Educational Foundation (“WGBH”), February 21, 2018, https://www.capeandislands.org/in-this-place/2019-02-20/never-mind-the-temperature-increasing-photoperiod-means-birds-are-singing-louder-and-longer

Larese-Casanova, Mark, Blackbirds in our wetlands, Wild About Utah, May 26, 2011, https://wildaboututah.org/blackbirds-in-our-wetlands/

Birds on the wing, Living on Earth®, World Media Foundation, March 19, 2010, https://www.loe.org/shows/segments.html?programID=10-P13-00012&segmentID=6

Early spring is causing a mismatch of food, News, Cardiff University, April 30, 2018 https://www.cardiff.ac.uk/news/view/1168289-early-spring-is-causing-a-mismatch-of-food

Red-winged Blackbird, Agelaius phoeniceus, Profiles, UtahBirds.org, http://utahbirds.org/birdsofutah/ProfilesL-R/RedWingedBlackbird.htm
    Photo Gallery: http://utahbirds.org/birdsofutah/BirdsL-R/RedWingBlackbird.htm
    ID & Song: https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Red-winged_Blackbird/id

Red-winged Blackbird – Agelaius phoeniceus, Fieldguide, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, Utah Department of Natural Resources, https://fieldguide.wildlife.utah.gov/?species=agelaius%20phoeniceus

Close Encounters vs. Survival

Close Encounters vs. Survival: Dusky Grouse Dendragapus, obscurus Courtesy US FWS, Ryan Hagerty, Photographer
Dusky Grouse, Dendragapus obscurus
Courtesy US FWS, Ryan Hagerty, Photographer
Just about everyone loves seeing wildlife in its natural habitat. Usually, we see animals at a distance – near enough to recognize, but not near enough to touch. There’s always that temptation, though, to get a closer look, to have that truly memorable close encounter.

Ruffed Grouse, Bonasa umbellus, in Snow
Courtesy Utah Division of Wildlife Resources
Ruffed Grouse in Snow
Bonasa umbellus
Utah Division of Wildlife Resources
Some years ago, a friend and I went cross-country skiing in Utah’s Bear River Range. It was one of those magical winter mountain mornings – the forest still and silent, snow falling very lightly around us. After a while we stopped for a snack in the shelter of a large fir tree. For a few minutes we chatted quietly, then we just listened. I heard a small rustling noise above me, looked up, and was surprised to see a grouse, perched calmly on a branch next to the tree trunk, so close that if I stood up straight, I could almost look it in the eye. I tapped my companion on the shoulder and pointed, then we grabbed our skis and moved slowly away, hoping not to disturb the bird any more than we already had.

Of course we were tempted to stick around, enjoying a memorable close encounter with a wild bird that many Utahns will never get to see in their lifetimes. But we were right to resist temptation.

So, what was this bird doing, anyhow, taking a risk by staying so close to two humans? First of all, it was a forest grouse. Utah has two species of these vaguely chicken-like birds, dusky grouse and ruffed grouse, and they both tend to avoid ground predators by sitting quietly in dense foliage rather than flying away like most other birds would.

But staying this close? That brings me to the second reason. It was winter. Animals that remain in Utah’s mountains year-round face a special challenge: balancing the need to eat with the need to keep warm. Foraging for food requires energy. During the growing season, there’s usually enough to eat to easily meet a daily calorie requirement. But in winter food is scarcer, and for plant-eating animals, the food that remains has a lower nutrient content. Not only that, but keeping warm also requires energy, and it’s harder to keep warm if you’re moving around in freezing weather, away from shelter. If the reason you’re moving around is not to find food but to escape a potential predator, that loss of calories is hard to make up.

Dusky grouse have a diverse plant diet in the warmer months, but their winter diet consists almost entirely of Douglas-fir and pine needles. It’s an abundant food source, but not an especially nutritious one. So, if they can escape a potential threat by standing still, instead of expending calories by flying to another tree, they’ll choose the energy-conserving option.

That same principle of energy conservation applies to other animals that are active in winter. The less they move around in the open air, the better. For mammals that are too heavy to walk on the snow surface, such as deer and elk, it takes extra energy to flee from a predator – or from a winter recreationist – while slogging through deep snow. By winter’s end, the cost of fleeing from possible dangers can add up – maybe even making the difference between survival and starvation. That’s why, when we’re out enjoying Utah’s backcountry in wintertime, we should always resist the temptation to have a close encounter of the wild kind.

I’m Mark Brunson, and I’m wild about Utah’s winter wildlife.

Credits:

Images Courtesy US Fish & Wildlife Service, Ryan Hagerty, Photographer, https://www.fws.gov/media/dusky-grouse-2
Featured Audio: Courtesy & Copyright © Friend Weller, Utah Public Radio upr.org, and audio Courtesy & © Anderson, Howe and Wakeman
Text: Mark Brunson, https://www.usu.edu/experts/profile/mark-brunson/
Additional Reading: Mark Brunson and Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah pieces authored by Mark Brunson

Miller, Matthew L., The Grouse in Winter, Cool Green Science, The Nature Conservancy, https://blog.nature.org/2014/01/16/the-grouse-in-winter/

Environmental Impact of Winter Recreation, American Trails, https://www.americantrails.org/resources/environmental-impacts-of-winter-recreation

Winter Range Disturbance Fact Sheet 17, Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, Mule Deer Working Group, Western Association of Fish & Wildlife Agencies and Utah Department of Natural Resources, State of Utah, https://wildlife.utah.gov/pdf/mule_deer/mdwg-17_winter_range_disturbance.pdf

Leavitt, Shauna, Western Forest Grouse, Wild About Utah, November 5, 2018, https://wildaboututah.org/western-forest-grouse/

Carpenter, Chuck III; Farnsworth, Skyler; and Dahlgren, David K., “Forest Grouse in the Fall” (2020). All Current Publications. Paper 2080.
https://digitalcommons.usu.edu/extension_curall/2080
also https://wildlife.utah.gov/pdf/upland/forest_grouse_in_the_fall.pdf

Cuckoo Bees

Cuckoo bees: Indiscriminate Cuckoo bee Courtesy & © Mark Brunson, Photographer
Indiscriminate Cuckoo Bee
Courtesy & © Mark Brunson, Photographer

Indiscriminate Cuckoo bee Courtesy & © Mark Brunson, PhotographerIndiscriminate Cuckoo Bee
Courtesy & © Mark Brunson, Photographer

I’d like to tell you a crime story. At least, it would be a crime story if told from a human perspective. But is it still a crime story if it’s about the natural world? I’ll tell it and then let you decide for yourself.

First let me set the stage: Not long ago I was hiking in Northern Utah’s Bear River Range. It was the height of wildflower season, and I was enjoying the colorful variety of blossoms along the trail. I stopped to admire a tall, showy plant with dozens of purplish-green blossoms: Frasera speciosa, commonly known as monument plant or green gentian. It’s often seen near the top of Logan Canyon, but what struck me about this particular monument plant was that it was full of bumble bees.

I knew that a Utah-based conservation science organization, Sageland Collaborative, is asking community volunteers to help them measure bumble bee diversity in the state, so I took out my phone and snapped a few photos. Later I uploaded the best photos into an app called iNaturalist so they’d end up in the Utah Pollinator Pursuit database maintained by the Utah Division of Wildlife Resources with Sageland’s help. Then I waited to learn what species of bumble bee I’d seen. The answer came back: indiscriminate cuckoo bumble bee. I thought: What an unusual name. I needed to know more.

It turns out “indiscriminate” simply means that, unlike many native bees that are particular about what they eat, this species doesn’t much care where it gets its nectar. As for “cuckoo”? Like the birds they’re named after, these bumble bees are thieves.

Or to say it more scientifically: these bumble bees are kleptoparasites. Parasites – animals that take resources they need from other species to the detriment of those species – and “klepto,” as in stealing. Like cuckoos or cowbirds, they lay their eggs in the nests of other bumble bee species, letting the workers from the host species do the work of raising them.

Here’s where our crime story gets even more sinister. When a cuckoo bumble bee queen finds a suitable nest to rob – one with a good-sized group of workers to raise the bee larvae, but not so many workers that they can easily protect their queen – she kills the host queen and becomes part of the colony, laying her alien eggs for the host workers to feed.

Cuckoo bumble bees don’t need their own workers, so they’re less often seen on wildflowers. In fact, there’s a good chance that some of the other bumble bees on my monument plant – the ones I didn’t get a picture of – were members of the host species. They also don’t need to take pollen back to a nest of their own, so they don’t have those “pollen baskets” we often see on the hind legs of female bumble bees.

But they do move pollen from flower to flower when it sticks to their bodies as they feed. In other words, they do play a role in sustaining the wildflowers we enjoy every summer. So is this really a crime story? Or is it just another example of the amazing diversity of behaviors found in nature? While you’re deciding about that for yourselves, I hope you get a chance to enjoy watching Utah’s various kinds of bumble bees as they do their all-important work.

I’m Mark Brunson, and I’m wild about Utah’s native bees.

Credits:

Images Courtesy & Copyright Mark Brunson, Photographer
Featured Audio: Courtesy & © Kevin Colver, https://wildstore.wildsanctuary.com/collections/special-collections and J. Chase and K.W. Baldwin. https://upr.org/
Text: Mark Brunson, https://www.usu.edu/experts/profile/mark-brunson/
Additional Reading: Lyle Bingham, https://bridgerlandaudubon.org/

Additional Reading

Wild About Utah pieces authored by Mark Brunson

Sheffield, Cory S., Cuckoo bees, Epeoloides pilosula, The Xerces Society, https://www.xerces.org/endangered-species/species-profiles/at-risk-bees/cuckoo-bees

Smale, Parker, Understanding cuckoo bumble bees: terrors or treasures?, Wildlife Preservation Canada, February 29, 2024, https://wildlifepreservation.ca/blog/understanding-cuckoo-bumble-bees-terrors-or-treasures/

Barth, Amanda, The Unique Lives of Cuckoo Bees, Sageland Collaborative, July 25, 2024, https://sagelandcollaborative.org/blog/2024/7/25/the-unique-lives-of-cuckoo-bees