Grassy Lizard Land
Last week for several days we had a Six-lined Racerunner lizard in Room 5 at school (the typing room). Frieda caught her in the shop and brought her to me, and my startled reaction must have been quite satisfying. All I could see at first was a snake-like head sticking out of her hand. I recovered quickly though and set about trying to find something to put the little creature into. I wished fervently for those three tiny aquariums that I gave Joey a few weeks ago. One of them would have been perfect. (So there, all those people who are sure that getting rid of things is always a great idea. It's not, and I knew it. Just kidding. Partly.) We made do temporarily with a whipped topping container with holes punched in the lid. Frieda put a weight on the lid, put the container on the kitchen counter, and went off to accounting class.
All was well till the dismissal bell rang and someone went to the kitchen to pick up their lunch "bucket."
"Hey, the lizard is loose," they called out, and others hurried to look. Frieda cornered and caught her again, and we looked for a tighter fitting lid and punched holes in that one too. The whole assembly got plopped overnight into a small enameled bucket on my desk.
The next morning I brought a gallon glass jar with a netting and rubber band to place over the opening. With some sand, water in a jar lid, and some leafy twigs, it looked like a comfortable home when turned on its side. It was a little tricky to get live bugs inside the jar without allowing "Lizzie" to escape, but Norma and several students worked at it diligently, and I think he was well-fed.
I learned that these lizards can run 18 miles per hour, and that the ones with a white underside are females.
Before I left school on Friday, I turned the lizard loose in the tree row, close to where she had been caught. Our brief acquaintance was a pleasure.
********************
Today my brother Anthony emailed me a picture of something he didn't know the name of . Arnold, who works at the same place as Anthony, had caught it on the trash pickup route, somewhere in the country southwest of here. I saw immediately that it looked like what I saw LeRoy carrying around once at Camp Mennoscah when we were there with the youth group on their all-day picnic. He called it a horny toad, so I informed Anthony that "horny toad" is the common name and I would see if I could find a more specific name.
My North American Wildlife book didn't have a picture of it in the amphibian section, so I looked online, and soon learned that it isn't a toad at all but a lizard. I found a picture of it in the reptile section of my book. Texas Horned Lizard is what he saw. These creatures look prehistoric, complete with horns and spiked armor, etc.
**********************
In typing class, during the break, we've been doing some "Naming Nature" activities. Since this is the time of year when the grasses are at their finest, and since we live in a region that was once a vast natural grassland, we're learning something about grasses. I like to think of it as one more step in "becoming native to this place."
Nearly all the grasses I've taken to school came from the roadside adjoining our property. Thank God the ditch mowers had not chopped everything into a mutilated mass as has occurred elsewhere. (I know; I know. Just doing their job.) I just can't believe that using the equipment and time to do this is the best way to care for our roadsides, when those places are one of the few areas where natural vegetation still thrives. I know for sure that "mangled" is a lot uglier than waving gracefully in the wind, if it's a river of sunflowers or a stream of purple-topped or silver or blue-stemmed grass we're talking about.
Some of the grasses I found are not true grasses, and not all are native, but here's the list of what I've found and identified so far:
Big Bluestem
Indian Grass
Switchgrass
Sideoats Grama
Silver Bluestem
Yellow Bristlegrass
Purpletop
Windmill Grass
Western Wheatgrass
Barnyard Grass
Tape-leaf Flat-sedge
I didn't find any Little Bluestem (maybe it blooms later), and I have not yet identified one thing I found. I suspect it's a rush or sedge and not a true grass, because the stem was very "cornered."
In my humble opinion, people from places elsewhere may boast of their yellow, orange, and red fall colors, but those colors aren't necessarily superior to our gold, purple, blue, and silver fall colors. They're all beautiful, of course, but wherever home is, "becoming native to [that] place" calls for appreciative observation and thanksgiving to the Creator Who graces our world with such diversity and beauty.
All was well till the dismissal bell rang and someone went to the kitchen to pick up their lunch "bucket."
"Hey, the lizard is loose," they called out, and others hurried to look. Frieda cornered and caught her again, and we looked for a tighter fitting lid and punched holes in that one too. The whole assembly got plopped overnight into a small enameled bucket on my desk.
The next morning I brought a gallon glass jar with a netting and rubber band to place over the opening. With some sand, water in a jar lid, and some leafy twigs, it looked like a comfortable home when turned on its side. It was a little tricky to get live bugs inside the jar without allowing "Lizzie" to escape, but Norma and several students worked at it diligently, and I think he was well-fed.
I learned that these lizards can run 18 miles per hour, and that the ones with a white underside are females.
Before I left school on Friday, I turned the lizard loose in the tree row, close to where she had been caught. Our brief acquaintance was a pleasure.
********************
Today my brother Anthony emailed me a picture of something he didn't know the name of . Arnold, who works at the same place as Anthony, had caught it on the trash pickup route, somewhere in the country southwest of here. I saw immediately that it looked like what I saw LeRoy carrying around once at Camp Mennoscah when we were there with the youth group on their all-day picnic. He called it a horny toad, so I informed Anthony that "horny toad" is the common name and I would see if I could find a more specific name.
My North American Wildlife book didn't have a picture of it in the amphibian section, so I looked online, and soon learned that it isn't a toad at all but a lizard. I found a picture of it in the reptile section of my book. Texas Horned Lizard is what he saw. These creatures look prehistoric, complete with horns and spiked armor, etc.
**********************
In typing class, during the break, we've been doing some "Naming Nature" activities. Since this is the time of year when the grasses are at their finest, and since we live in a region that was once a vast natural grassland, we're learning something about grasses. I like to think of it as one more step in "becoming native to this place."
Nearly all the grasses I've taken to school came from the roadside adjoining our property. Thank God the ditch mowers had not chopped everything into a mutilated mass as has occurred elsewhere. (I know; I know. Just doing their job.) I just can't believe that using the equipment and time to do this is the best way to care for our roadsides, when those places are one of the few areas where natural vegetation still thrives. I know for sure that "mangled" is a lot uglier than waving gracefully in the wind, if it's a river of sunflowers or a stream of purple-topped or silver or blue-stemmed grass we're talking about.
Some of the grasses I found are not true grasses, and not all are native, but here's the list of what I've found and identified so far:
Big Bluestem
Indian Grass
Switchgrass
Sideoats Grama
Silver Bluestem
Yellow Bristlegrass
Purpletop
Windmill Grass
Western Wheatgrass
Barnyard Grass
Tape-leaf Flat-sedge
I didn't find any Little Bluestem (maybe it blooms later), and I have not yet identified one thing I found. I suspect it's a rush or sedge and not a true grass, because the stem was very "cornered."
In my humble opinion, people from places elsewhere may boast of their yellow, orange, and red fall colors, but those colors aren't necessarily superior to our gold, purple, blue, and silver fall colors. They're all beautiful, of course, but wherever home is, "becoming native to [that] place" calls for appreciative observation and thanksgiving to the Creator Who graces our world with such diversity and beauty.
posted by Mrs. I (Miriam Iwashige) at
11:05 PM
2 Comments:
As I understand, the main reason for mowing is to keep the volunteer trees in check. This problem can be seen on our road where mowing is not a high priority and there are now 5" diameter trees growing down in the lowest part of the ditch. While it looks nice, our road is difficult for farm equipment to navigate and I imagine it will be a very major project to dig out and redo the ditches if there is also a need for tree removal.
By
BrianM, at 9/01/2013
Good point, Brian. Visibility at intersections and driveways is probably another reason for mowing. Shane was hired one year during the winter to clear trees from ditches for Salt Creek township. As you can tell, that's been a while, and I don't think he ever made it to your part of the township. I think annual midwinter mowing could take care of the trees. Regular mowing at intersections and other road-entrance points could help with necessary visibility. Also, simply mowing regularly on the "crown" of the ditch (right next to the road) would make a difference for all of the above concerns, and would still leave most of the natural vegetation.
By
Mrs. I (Miriam Iwashige), at 9/02/2013
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