Bat and WNS Update from Bat Conservation International

December 2012, Volume 10, Number 12

Bats in the News - WNS Survivors Face a New Risk

Some hibernating bats emerge from a wintertime exposure to White-nose Syndrome with few symptoms of the devastating disease that has killed more than 5.7 million bats in North America. Then, just as they are recovering from the infection, they seem to be attacked by their own immune systems, the U.S. Geological Survey said in a news release.

A little brown bat with White-nose Syndrome. Photo courtesy of Al Hicks, NY Dept. of Environmental Conservation

Researcher Carol Meteyer, of the USGS, and colleagues suggest that these bats show evidence of "immune reconstitution inflammatory syndrome" (IRIS) – a condition first described in HIV-AIDS patients. This hypothesis, proposed in the journal Virulence, represents the first natural occurrence of IRIS ever reported. "For both humans and bats, IRIS can be fatal," the agency said.

Meteyer's co-authors are Daniel Barber and Judith Mandl at the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases.
With IRIS, after an organism's immune system has been suppressed for a time then reactivates, it can detect an infection and "go into overdrive, resulting in severe inflammation and tissue damage in infected areas," the scientists said.

"The potential discovery of IRIS in bats infected with White-nose Syndrome is incredibly significant in terms of understanding both the reasons for bat mortality and basic immune response," said USGS Director Marcia McNutt. "This discovery could also prove significant for studies on treatment for AIDS."

In AIDS patients, the immune system is suppressed as the HIV virus attacks white blood cells. It is reactivated through antiretroviral therapy. But in patients with secondary infections, the renewed immune system overacts and can cause major damage to healthy tissue.

Bats' immune-system activity (along with body temperature and metabolism) is dramatically reduced to conserve energy during hibernation. This allows the Geomyces destructans fungus, which causes WNS, to invade the bat's muzzle, ears and wings.

"Animals that survive WNS often "emerge from hibernation with normal-looking wings," Science News said in a report on the research. "But as their body temperature warms back up and their immune systems reactivate, their health takes a nosedive. Within days, dark patches riddle their wings. ... Over the next two weeks, these and other immune cells encapsulate the fungal patches, walling them inside scablike structures. Soon the scabs fall away, leaving the wings with huge holes. Flight becomes limited, if not impossible."
 "It's cellular suicide. It comes out in a huge wave, going out to those areas of infection and killing everything," Meteyer told The Washington Post.

"We see strong similarities between human IRIS and the pathology associated with WNS," she said in the news release. "We hope that these findings will stimulate more experimental studies that yield insight into the role of the immune response during IRIS in humans as well as hibernating bats."

Happy Winter Solstice!

Look!  It's the first day of Winter and we FINALLY 

have some snow!!!

This was our morning walk this AM - the wind was blowing, the snow was horizontal, but it was snow and that's all that counts in the end.  Huzzah!

Meanwhile, in the house, I finally got an extension cord for the tree and for the first time my tree was lit.  In fact, this is the first tree I have ever had on my own.  The bulk of the tree is still outdoors, where it's providing shelter for the birds (in fact, you can see it leaning against the maple tree in the first photo).

Have a Cool Yule, Everyone!

Second Anniversary & the Christmas Bird Count

December 13.  That is my anniversary date for moving to Michigan.  December 15 is the day I started at work.  This year on the 15th, my second anniversary, I was up before the crack of dawn to take part in my third Christmas Bird Count since moving out here (my first one was two days after starting at work).  

It wasn't quite O-dark-thirty when I was to report for the Count, but the sun had yet to cross the horizon when we showed up next to the crane fields at nearly 8 AM.

Over there, beyond the horizon, we could hear the early morning chorus as the cranes started to awake, stretch, make sure everyone made it through the night, and then head out to the fields to feed.

The morning take-off is just as impressive as the evening arrival at the roosting grounds.  

The only difference is that soon the fields were full of cranes - a handful here, several dozen there.  As the day progressed and we drove the roads in search of birds to count, we got to see many cranes right up close.

But cranes were not our only target.  We had an area of several miles through and around the Waterloo Recreation Area to cover.  But it was a chilly grey day, with rain never too far away.  

I think the birds must've felt the same way, for they were pretty Spartan - few and far between.  When we donned our gay apparel (hunter orange) to walk the Hoffman Trail, we expected to see/hear at least two or three red-headed woodpeckers.  Not only did we not see or hear a one of them, but we didn't see or hear ANY birds at all!

Oh, we saw evidence of birds...

 ...and mushrooms galore...

 ...but no birds until we reached the edge of the woods, where a few goldfinches called in the distance out by the marshy area.

Cause?  We suspect the lack of water this year.  See this foot bridge?  There's usually water underneath.  I've even see it with water above!  Not this year.

We scanned the fields.  

The guys continued through the field to the road while Nancy and I went back to bring the car around.

Along the way I had a new Michigan discovery:  deer carrots.

I think I've mentioned before how in the fall the roadsides bloom with signs for "Deer Carrots" and "Deer Apples Sold Here."  It's now the end of hunting season, and here's where those deer treats end up.

After lunch (homemade turkey soup and quiche Lorraine - mmmmm), we headed back out, but the birds remained elusive.  Oh, we had a few bluebirds, lots of mourning doves, and Greg even spotted about 45 or so horned larks, but for the most part, the numbers were disappointing.  Not a single robin or cedar waxwing.  And where were all those winter finches we'd been hearing about!?  I had my heart set on seeing some evening grosbeaks, but it was not to be.

Still, it was a good day in good company - and as long as I had a blanket for my legs, I was happy.  I can think of much worse ways to spend an anniversary.

A Meteor Drizzle

It was a brisk 20- or 30-something last night when I got home from a small Christmas Party at the house of one of our board members at work.  I was more concerned about getting home in time to let the dog out before he made a mess indoors, than I was about paying attention to the sky.

When I walked in the door, Toby rushed downstairs as if to say "at last!" and danced around, eager to get out to relieve himself.  It was nearly 9 PM, after all, and I'd been gone over 12 hours.  He peed, then ate, and we went for our walk.

What a beautiful night.  The sky was dark (no moon), despite all the light pollution (neighbors and neighboring cities), and Orion and Saturn were bright up above.

 In the image above, you see Orion in the center, 

with Sirius (really bright blue star at the bottom) 

just coming over the horizon.

Saturn is just out of range off the top of the photo.

As we made the loop back toward the house, I saw not one, but two meteors streak across the sky out of Orion's feet.  A few minutes later, a third streak rushed across the sky.  Rumor had it that we might see up to 60 meteors this night, so I figured a little night time photography was ahead of me.

We got home and I dug out the camera, tripod, and remote cable release.  I got things assembled and we went out into the back yard, where the worst of the neighbors' lights were blocked by the house.  I set up the tripod and started shooting - leaving the shutter open for 5-20 second intervals (playing around with the ISO), hoping a meteor would streak across the sky while it was open.  Five or six did, but as bright as two or three of them were, the camera didn't register most of them.

Here's the one shot that worked:

Unenhanced image

Same image, lightened so the streak(s) show up.

Tonight's meteor shower, or drizzle, as it turned out for me, had two possible origins.  The first was the Geminid Meteor Showers.  I did a little research on these, and it turns out that they are a fairly new occurrence in our skies.  Most of our meteor showers have been around for hundreds, if not thousands of years, but the Geminids only appeared in our skies about 150 years ago.  They occur when our planet passes through the orbit of an asteroid we call 3200 Phaethon.  The meteors are bits of debris (some no bigger than a grain of sand) burning up as they pass through our atmosphere.

The other potential source, new this year only, is the tail of debris cast off by the comet 45P/Wirtanen.  Apparently Earth is passing through this tail at approximately the same time it's going through the asteroid's orbit.  So, in theory, there could be two meteor showers happening at the same time!

Now, I was out there about 10:00-11:00 PM (-ish).  The experts were saying that the best show (the most meteors) would be between midnight and 3:00 AM.  Well, I didn't think I was going to be awake at that time, but lo! and behold! I was.  It was about 12:30 when I grabbed the camera set-up again and headed back into the yard, thoroughly bundled up (standing still for an hour or so in a frosty yard at midnight in December is a chilly prospect).  I positioned the tripod where the other neighbor's light was mostly blocked and looked up at the sky.  Where were all the stars?  It seemed a high fog had moved in, rendering the view unusable.  What few stars I could see were all hazy and blurry.  No good.  The good news, though, was that I could go back inside and get some sleep knowing I probably wasn't going to miss much.

Very Sad

Photo courtesy of Lindy Lumsden “We don’t know precisely what happened to it, … but there is one important thing we do know: it was the last Christmas Island pipistrelle (pipistrellus murrayi).”       ~Timothy Flannery, The Sydney Morning Herald, November 17, 2012 August 26, 2009. That was the last time this small bat’s echolocation call was heard. That lonely call was, quite possibly, “one of the few times that an extinction of species in the wild can be marked to the day,” says the IUCN. It did not have to happen. The once-abundant species, named after the island it inhabited, began declining in the mid-1990s. By 2006, the population had fallen by more than 80 percent. Scientists raised an alarm with the Australian government, and the Australian Mammal Society and the Australasian Bat Society were confident the species could be saved at a relatively low cost. But the response was tentative and leadership was lacking. A government committee was formed, but it deliberated for months. When scientists were finally given permission to start a captive-breeding program, it was too late. The little insect-eating bat, which weighed less than a U.S. nickel, had disappeared from the Earth. This “lack of brave decision making in the face of uncertainty, and … lack of accountability for stalling decisions contributed to the loss of the [Christmas Island] pipstrelle,” says Dr. Tara Martin of Australia’s national science agency. This tragic lesson shows us the importance of bat conservation across the globe. During this season of sharing, you can help by spreading the word about the Christmas Island pipistrelle. Knowledge is power and by sharing this story with your friends and family, you can remind those around you just how fragile and precious our planet really is. Sincerely, Dave Waldien Interim Executive Director Bat Conservation International

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Climate Change...Still Need Convincing?

My friend over at the blog Willow Unboxed posts some of the best "wake up!" pieces. Here is one she recently had about climate change, ala Bill Nye the Science Guy.   It's worth sharing.

When Did You Last Fly a Kite?

Click here for inspiration.

Minks in Michigan

For a phenomenal post on minks, you must go here - you will read a delightful (and humorous) post and see some enviable photographs of a member of one of my favorite groups of animals (weasels).  You won't be disappointed.

Blue Racer

One of the best things about moving to a completely new area, away from all things familiar, is that there is so much new stuff to discover.  You wouldn't think that Michigan would be all that different from New York, but surprisingly, it is!

One of the many new things on my list of Things I Must See is the blue racer, a native snake that can get up to four or more feet in length.  Noted for being very curious, these serpents have been seen rising out of the tall grasses to peer at people who are passing by.  Who wouldn't want to see that?  And besides, it's blue!  Blue is just not a color that is terribly common in nature.

About a year ago someone brought a dead juvenile blue racer into the visitor center - a tiny, black and white spotted thing.  We placed it in a jar of alcohol to preserve it - very sad.  But I wanted to see an adult...and preferably alive.

Well, I got half my wish last night.  Toby and I were headed down the road four our evening walk, and I saw a snake on the shoulder.  It was obviously deceased.  But when I looked at it closely, I just had a feeling it was a blue racer.  It had crawled out on the pavement to warm up in the next-to-last nice day were were going to have, and someone clipped it with a car (or truck).  

I gently picked it up - the injuries were minimal - and carried it home.  This morning I brought it in to work to verify the ID, photograph it, and see if we could preserve it.

So, here it is:

The white chin/throat is one of the keys to identify this species.

As is the gorgeous pale blue coloring on the scales along its sides.

Gary figured the snake was three to four years old, based on the size.  Saddened to see the waste of such a glorious life, we found a specimen jar into which I could coil it.  We'll fill with alcohol had have the animal available for programming...although we'd rather see it alive.

Word to the Wise:  if it's a beautiful fall day, toasty warm with winter on the way, please be careful when driving down the roads.  Snakes of all sizes may be out sunning themselves, catching the last rays of warmth they can find before they slither off to dens to sleep away the winter.  Like turtles crossing the roads in the spring, try to avoid hitting the snakes.  If possible, assist them off the road so other vehicles won't hit them...although they'll probably crawl back out because that's where they want to be:  soaking up the heat from the sun-warmed tarmack/asphalt/pavement.

Word Verification

Sorry, folks, but I've gone back to having the word verification on my comment form because ever since I removed it I have been swamped with spam.  So, we fall back on our only line of defense:  prove you're not a robot by answering the question(s). 

Thanks for your understanding!

Noggles Road

Monday was completely unscripted.  I had to make a trip to Saline, and on the way back home I stopped at the shooting range just up the road from the house.  Do they do archery, or is it only firearms?  Turns out, not only do they have a dinky little archery spot, but they are in the process of building a full-fledged archery range a distance from the firing range.  Huzzah!  

So, I have my loaner bow and loaner arrows...all I needed was a bow stringer and ear protection (archery may be silent, but the firing range is RIGHT THERE and it is best to be safe than sorry).  Where to go?  Cabelas, down in Dundee.  

I turned the car around and headed to Manchester.  Lots of road work going on there - Route 52 has been under construction for about a year now.  I didn't want to deal with all that, so I decided to hit the back roads.

Now, I didn't really end up lost...I just wasn't completely sure where I was.

 

I discovered some really, truly lovely land, though.  Noggles Road - you've gotta love the name!  It is a dirt road, and seems to go on forever.  Both sides were lined with lovely autumnal woodland.  There were even some little pocket wetlands along the way.

 The camera was lurking in the back of the car.  I should've taken it out sooner, for I came around the bend at one point to find a half-dozen full-grown turkeys, beards and all, in the road.

Mostly the drive was wooded, but a few fields zipped by (well, "zipped" is what it looks like in the blurry photo, but in truth I was rarely above 20 mph - bumpy dirt roads do not lend themselves well to speed).

The highlight, after the turkeys, was this hawk coming in for a landing.

I sort of pulled over to take some shots, but of course suddenly it was Grand Central Station!  I moved the car further off to the side to avoid getting grazed along the side.  The final vehicle to pass was a large, noisy truck, and the bird flew off.  Still, I got enough shots to say I think this is a juvenile red-tailed hawk.  The dark belly band is the biggest clue.  The tail was banded, not a solid russet like we expect on an adult red-tail, which made me think it might be a Cooper's or sharpie, the bird was just too big for either of those.  Looking through the field guide later, I confirmed what I suspected:  juveniles have banded tails.  

I eventually found my way out of the woods and onto a highway.  But I had such a good time driving Noggles Road that I was sorely tempted to do it again on the way home from Cabela's.  In the end, I stuck to 52 and got caught up in all the constructions...should've followed my whim and headed back into the woods.

I'll be returning to Noggles Road another day - it warrants visits in all seasons.

Crane Counting

Monday was breezy and lovely - a day to get chores done outside.  But last week I promised a co-worker that I would come out to Haehnle Sanctuary to help with the weekly crane count.  So, after doing laundry, taking a cat to the vet, digging spuds and shucking dried beans, I showered and drove up to Waterloo.  By 5:00 it was still sunny and lovely, but the breeze was chilly - and it would only get colder as the sun set. 

A handful of watchers were already on The Hill, and it turned out that the folks for whom I was the stand-in counter arrived after all.

So, I was able to go down the hill and do some late afternoon photography instead!

Not too much was still blooming.  This delicate little aster, which is rather prolific around these parts, was still putting on a show.

And of course the milkweed was in full fluff.

Sweet everlasting is also in bloom right now.  A relative of the pearly everlasting I knew back east, this plant has a trait the other lacks:  it smells like maple syrup.  No kidding. 

Robins by the dozens (dare I say hundreds?) flitted back and forth across the sky, coming in to the to sanctuary for the night. 

The main event, though, was the nightly return-to-the-roost of the greater sandhill cranes.  When conditions are just right (water levels and mudflats), the sanctuary fills up every evening in the fall with cranes who are making their way southward for the winter.  Two years ago they had record numbers of over 5000 birds.  Last year water levels were too high and only a fraction of that number used the sanctuary for roosting.  This year, however, conditions are looking promising.

There were a number of gashawks making tracks across the sky, too.

I left the sanctuary about 7:00 - a bit chilled.  Crane watchers were starting to fill the parking lot, and apparently after I left the large flocks started to arrive.  Final count for the night:  1,855.

Reign of Arrows

Welcome to a cold and blustery day in central Michigan.  It was Saturday, and we were just outside Flint, where one of the members of the Barony of Cynnabar Shire of Stormvale was hosting an archery shoot:  Reign of Arrows.  We arrived about 10:00 AM and the clouds arrived with us...never quite departing.

Early arrivals kept warm by the fire.

But it was time to get warmed up to shoot.  Bows had to be strung...

the range had to be set up...

 

and soon we were on the line, stretching our strings and sending arrows down-range into targets (and the grass).

At these shoots, there are targets at 20, 30 and 40 yards, the usual fare.  Additional targets can be almost anything else.  In this case, about, oh, 75 or more yards down range was a "clout shoot" - which today was a large bear behind some bales of hay.

Anyone who can get their arrows within the boundaries of the hay bales is doing well.  To actually hit the bear is either blind luck or very good shooting!

 
After sufficient warm-up time, we shot a Royal Round.  This involves six arrows shot at each of the targets (20, 30 & 40 yards), and then a timed shoot at the 20-yard target (however many arrows you can loose at it in 30 seconds).  I never do as well at the Royal Round as I do in practice.

Then it was lunch time; hot soup was very welcome on this chilly day!

And after lunch the fun shoots began.  First up was a...well...I'm not sure what to call it.  It involved four separate shoots.  First, we had these small targets attached to hay bales that were only 5-15 feet away from us.  You'd be surprised just how difficult it is to shoot at a target that is so close.

For the second round, we had to shoot at the Black Knight.  Points were only awarded if we got our arrows in his arms or legs.

This was followed by round three:  Friend or Foe.  One of the small targets was placed on a pile of bales in front of the Knight.  If we hit the small target (Friend), it was not good.  But we got points if we hit any part of the Knight (Foe).

The final round was the clout shoot, but the bear was replaced by a large drawing of a pumpkin (see above shot, in distance).  We shot from the 75 (ish) yard line, then the 50 (ish) yard line, then sort of 30-ish...sneaking up on the pumpkin.  Various points were awarded depending where your arrow(s) landed on the target.

All points were added up and the winner was:  Forrester Dillon!

Next up was a "Stuffy Shoot."  An assortment of stuffed toys were scattered across the range.

Now you might think this was only for kids,

 but we are all kids at heart.  You got to keep what you shot:

It was a hoot.

Of course, every shoot requires that all arrows not lodged in targets are located.  Sometimes this is easy - they are sitting on top of the ground or poke into the earth at a great angle.  Other times, well, we have to hunt for them.  The group affectionately calls this QUASAR:  Quarrel and Arrow Search and Rescue.

Sometimes you have to bring out ye olde metal detector.  But bare feet are often just as effective...they just don't beep.

Despite the less-than-optimal weather,

a good time was had by all.  And why not?  Good food, good friends, and target shooting with traditional bows - how could it be anything but fun?