Vail TV-8 features Dale Versteegen from Gore Range Natural Science School. Recorded June 2, 2010.

Vail TV-8 features Doug Dusenberry from Gore Range Natural Science School. Recorded May 10, 2010.

lara carson

Every May, seventh grade students from Berry Creek Middle School and Eagle Valley Middle School conduct biodiversity research studies with Gore Range Natural Science School. Earlier this month, some students dressed in chest-high waders climbed into the frigid waters of Berry Creek in Edwards. As two students supported a three foot square net, a third student kicked at the rocks, vegetation, and muck on the stream bottom. Upon pulling the net out of the water, students were introduced to a plethora of life from an underwater community that most of us do not often consider. The net was filled with a variety of insects, worms, and other invertebrates.

Aquatic insects are an essential component of food chains in our streams and rivers. Insects that spend some or all of their lives in the water make up a portion of the diets of fish, birds, and mammals. Aquatic insects eat plants, detritus, food particles, and even other aquatic insects. Fishermen keep close watch as to which insects the fish are eating and when different insects hatch and fly near the water.

Insects experience two kinds of life process changes. Complete metamorphosis is the insect life cycle that most of us studied in elementary school by observing butterflies. Metamorphosis means a change in form or development. In the complete metamorphosis life cycle, the adult female insect lays an egg and a worm-like creature called a larva hatches from the egg. Eventually, the larva builds a shelter called a pupa. Inside the pupa, the insect changes form to become an adult insect. Finally, the insect emerges from the pupa as an adult. The adult insect and the larva of its youth do not resemble the other physically. The life cycle process will begin again when, after mating, a female adult lays its own eggs.

From the sample collected in Berry Creek, students identified two types of caddisfly larva, a cranefly larva, and a couple beetle larvae. One day, all of these insects will leave the stream as adults to fly over the riparian community.  Students also found a number of stonefly and mayfly nymphs. The nymph is a stage of the incomplete metamorphosis life cycle.

It can take a few weeks or up to a couple years for the entire incomplete metamorphosis life cycle to occur. In this life cycle, the adult female insect lays an egg. From the egg hatches a nymph. A nymph looks more like an adult insect than a larva does, but it is not yet an adult. Insects that go through incomplete metamorphosis spend the majority of their lives as nymphs. As the nymph grows, it molts or sheds the exoskeleton and replaces it with a newer, larger version. When it is time to make the change to adulthood a nymph emerges from the water, the nymph’s exoskeleton cracks open, and an adult insect crawls out. When mayflies become adults, they have one mission and one day to complete it. Before it dies a mayfly must mate and lay eggs. Many species of mayflies do not have mouths as adult because they do not have the time or the need to eat.

As you walk near creeks and rivers this summer, turn over a rock to see if you can find any larvae or nymphs hidden there. Watch for an adult beetle swimming past you. Examine the tall grasses near the shore and perhaps you can find a stonefly exoskeleton that was left behind. Look at the insects flying around and say hello to the adult aquatic insects.

Lara Carlson is the Gore Range Natural Science School Avon In-School educator, where she leads students outdoors, educating them about Colorado creature, big and small. (www.gorerange.org)

Vail TV-8 features Naturalist Dale Versteegen from Gore Range Natural Science School. Recorded May 3, 2010.

betsy defries

Last weekend I woke up without an alarm clock. The early morning sun whispered through my window, shone on my face and greeted me to the day. I took my time waking up, all the while observing the blue skies, bright sunshine and magpies flying from tree to tree outside my window.

“Finally,” I thought, “maybe spring is here!”  

It’s no secret that springtime in Colorado comes slowly. In March we start to get antsy when warm temperatures hit our skin. And then when the snow melts in the afternoon sun, we think that winter might be over. But inevitably, spring storms arrive to dump big white flakes like we’re living in a snow globe. 

There comes a point when it stops snowing in the Valley. This season holds a special place in the hearts of Coloradans. It isn’t winter anymore. Yet it’s not quite spring. It is in fact, MUD SEASON!

No matter how you feel about mud season, remember that it is a necessary transition (albeit slow) that nature must make in order to blossom into Spring. Case in point, the earthworm.

By now you might have begun to notice the small earthworms strewn on sidewalks, hiking trails, and in your freshly dug garden. Mud season is their favorite time of year! While we wait for mountain bike trails to dry, earthworms are already enjoying Colorado’s moist conditions.

Earthworms come to the surface during spring rains to easily move and procreate. Wet conditions also give worms a chance to move safely to new homes and break down your food scraps into rich soil. Worms breathe through their skin, which means that their skin must stay wet so that oxygen can pass through. Mud season is a great time for worms to move around above ground without dehydrating.

Acting as decomposers, breaking down dead plant and animal matter and cycling carbon and oxygen back into the soil, earthworms are helping aerate the soil by loosening it and creating air pockets so that plants can grow. In turn, getting your garden ready to be planted.

Not only are earthworms great for aerating our soil and composting our organics, they also act as a great food source for many animals including snakes, birds, moles, toads, foxes, beetles, centipedes, leeches, and slugs. If it weren’t for this valuable protein source, a lot of animals might be hungry this spring.  As much as earthworms are excited this transitional season, the entire animal kingdom is excited to see earthworms during mud season.

Mud season in Colorado might be rainy, dirty, and chilly, but it’s worth it. As you begin to notice aspen’s green buds, robins returning from warmer climates and earthworms surfacing, remember to enjoy the leisurely pace of springtime. Pause to enjoy the sun on your face.  Invite a friend to take a walk by the rushing river, and just like our valley, remember to take your time easing into spring.

Betsy Defries is a Winter Naturalist for the Gore Range Natural Science School and enjoys sharing her knowledge of Colorado, even during mud season. (www.gorerange.org)

Vail TV-8 features Naturalist Dale Versteegen from Gore Range Natural Science School. Recorded April 26, 2010.

becca frager

Migrating back and forth to Colorado can be dangerous, exhausting

There are many reasons for this annual migration. In late autumn, as Jack Frost enters the valley, birds need a high amount of calories to produce enough heat to survive the freezing temperatures. Finding enough calories is impossible for some species. Shorter winter days mean less daylight hours for birds to search for food, and for some, their food is simply not around anymore. Many of the plump, juicy insects that fly and crawl through Colorado in the summer die or become dormant in winter, forcing the barn swallow, dusky flycatcher and other insect-eating birds to move to warmer climates to forage.

Aromatic flowers, which produce the sweet nectar hummingbirds enjoy, are also absent from the scenery in winter, forcing these sugarloving birds to move south for food. Of course, there are some birds, such as the fluffy chickadee, the regal Stellars jay and the acrobatic crow that have diets that allow them to stay in the valley year-round, but for many others, the harsh realities of winter are too much.

The journey south is no easy task. Birds need a tremendous amount of energy to fuel their annual commute. Most birds don’t eat much while migrating and need to build up fat reserves before they travel. Migrating birds may store up to 50 percent of their body weight as fat and will burn this all off during their trip.

Unfortunately, about 25 percent of the birds that leave Colorado to escape the winter won’t make it back in the spring. Several variables, such as foul weather and collisions with wind turbines, airplanes and the glass windows of skyscrapers can prove fatal to many. Deforestation and destruction of the wetlands birds use for rest stops and food is another migration danger.

Birds also need to be excellent navigators to keep from getting lost. Scientists have shown that some birds find their way by using visual cues such as mountain ranges, rivers, the sun and stars. Studies have even shown that birds might be able to sense the Earth’s magnetic field and use their own, built in compass for navigation. There is still much to be learned about how birds manage to find their way through miles of hazardous and ever-changing terrain each year. One thing is certain — migration is tough and dangerous work.

Today in the valley, as the sun is shining and we say hello to mud season, we might notice a worm crawling. We might also notice the red breast of that American robin, who successfully made it back to Colorado despite her recent, perilous trip. We might even notice this impressive traveler as she picks up that worm and enjoys the delicious, hearty meal that she came so far to get.

When you notice the robin and other migrating birds this spring, smile and remember how hard these joyful feathered residents worked to return back to our area.

Becca Frager is a Winter Naturalist at Gore Range Natural Science School where she teaches people about ecology and helps them explore the great outdoors.

Friends, Romans, countrymen — oh wait, the Romans have been gone for a while now, right? You get a little forgetful after 4.5 billion years.

But it is good to be here, and sometimes I feel lucky to still be around after all I’ve been through. Dodging meteors and comets, traveling 67,000 miles per hour around the sun, spinning 1,040 miles per hour 24 hours a day. … You get the picture. But actually, 4.5 billion years is just a drop in the bucket compared to some of my friends in the universe, although I know it seems ancient to most of you. And I have to say that I feel pretty good for my age.

Of course, there are a few problems — my carbon layer is getting a little thick and my ozone is a little thin, but overall, I’m in pretty good shape. So here we are, 4.5 billion trips around the sun. I’m still enjoying life and am optimistic about another few billion rides through space. Although now that I’ve gotten your attention, there are a few issues that I think we should talk about.

We have a long way to go, you and I, and we need to be thinking long-term if we’re going to last. On the positive side, I’m beginning to see some great forward-thinking ideas taking root. People are carrying reusable mugs, bringing cloth bags to the grocery store and faithfully recycling some of my very precious resources so that we don’t use them all up. So now we need to start thinking bigger picture. Where does your energy come from? What can you do to truly use less of the sun’s energy that I have carefully stashed away in hidden reserves throughout the eons. Trust me, after 4.5 billion years, I know a little something about sustainability.

It’s time to start thinking carefully about how everything you do impacts me, Mother Earth. Now, I know it’s a party, so I don’t want to be too much of a downer, but I have to be straight about things if we’re going to survive. It’s really a team effort. You take care of
me and I’ll take care of you. I’ll grow beautiful green plants and provide fresh flowing waters. But I need your help. Many of you are already helping — driving less, building sustainably, exploring non-polluting energy sources and living thoughtfully on my land in many different ways. My gifts are precious, and every one of my 7×1021 tons aches when my resources are squandered. Perhaps the brightest light on the horizon today lies in education. I see new and exciting things happening in the way you are educating your
children. The children are our future, and some of the new ideas in education bring me hope.

I peeked in on a kindergarten class in your valley last week, and I watched the students thoughtfully considering the differences between “wants” and “needs.” How insightful and forward-thinking — I hope one of those kids becomes president because they are already getting their priorities straight. Investing in education is one of the best gifts you can give to me. The children of today will be responsible for taking care of me in my old age, and the challenges will be many. Help our children to rise up and be ready for this challenge. Please. Our futures depend on it.

So here we stand, human beings and Earth, at a crossroads in time. We’ve been through a lot in the 200,000 years you’ve graced my surface as Homo sapiens. I’ve treasured each new age and each new development, watching you mature as a civilization
like a mother watches her child grow. So treasure all of my gifts. Embrace each new dawn and start learning new ways of living
lightly on me. Not just on Earth Day, but everyday. Happy Earth Day from Mother Earth.

Jamie Squires is the Graduate Programs Director at Gore Range Natural Science School.