Itchy Scratchy

Poison Ivy climbing a Hornbeam or Musclewood Tree in Florida

This is a public service message brought to you by a representative of the sensitive skin club. Me. It's that time of year again when the birds and bugs are active and the new summer flowers are blooming on the roadsides. It's also the time that the skeeters are biting, the ticks and chiggers are lurking in the grass, and the Poison Ivy is sprouting. And when I go out in pursuit of nature adventures and good photos, I keep finding myself face to face (or ankle to leaf) with the whole lot of them. Today I would like to familiarize you with Eastern Poison Ivy (Toxicodendron radicans). Perhaps some other day I will have something nice to share about ticks and chiggers. I have a hard time seeing any redeeming points in those pests, so I have (so far) no photos. But Poison Ivy, on the other hand, is actually a pretty plant. And it is also bigger than a pinhead (unlike chiggers and ticks), so I have lots of photos to share. But I digress.

This all came to me a month or so ago when I was traveling in Northern California at the Elkhorn Slough National Estuarine Research Reserve and came across a huge patch of Pacific Poison Oak. I'm not so familiar with Poison Oak (Toxicodendron diversilobum), but I was able to recognize it because of some helpful signage, and therefore kept my parents and myself from accidentally brushing against it. It did look somewhat similar to the good ol' itchy stuff from back home, but as a lush and bushy plant, it had a different habit and I might have accidentally blundered into it without the signs.

When I got back home it was time to lead school groups on trail walks at the nature center, and the beginning of Poison Ivy season, and I always try to help the kids learn to identify the plant so they can enjoy the outdoors without the itch. My experience in California got me thinking that I wasn't sure I knew the difference between Poison Oak and Poison Ivy. I have often heard people equate the two, so I did some research and learned some interesting facts about these plants. I have never come across Poison Sumac which also grows in the South, though I am familiar with other types of Sumac.

Poison Ivy is not actually ivy, and Poison Oak is not an oak. Both plants, and Poison Sumac are all in the same plant family, Anacardiaceae--the Sumac or Cashew family. The family also includes Mangoes and now Pistachios. These plants are not poisonous in the sense that they will kill you (unless you have a severe allergic reaction). But they have sap that contains Urushiol, a compound that causes (sometimes severe) contact dermatitis. I recently learned that the people who process cashew nuts can get a similar reaction from handling the sap and so it is important to buy cashews from ethical sellers who protect the health of their workers.

All parts of a Poison Ivy plant can cause the skin reaction. The leaves, the berries, the vine, and even the dead leaves and vines. Urushiol can become airborn if the plants are burned, or ground fine with a mower, so care must be taken when handling the plants at all times. I believe that Poison Oak and Poison Sumac are similar, but I am not sure because I don't have direct experience with either one. But as I read more I learned that though Eastern Poison Oak does occur in the Southeast, it is not as common and looks a lot like Poison Ivy and it is hard to distinguish between the two. Poison Sumac is also present in the Southeast, though it is even less common, and this may explain why I don't know those plants well. Poison Ivy, on the other hand, is widespread across the eastern half of the US. Pacific Poison Oak is extremely common along the entire West Coast.

Most people are allergic to these plants, though not all. About 85% of people react. The other 15% can consider themselves fortunate, but they still need to be careful because the oils from the plants can be tracked into the house on shoes, tools, clothing and even pets, and when that happens, the reactive people in the household will become very angry. Animals do not seem to be bothered by the irritating oils, maybe because of fur or feathers, or they're just born lucky.

If you do come in contact with one of the itch-causing plants, wash and scrub immediately and vigorously with cold, soapy water, or with special soap such as Technu. Simple handwashing won't work. And warm or hot water is not good because it opens your pores and lets the oils sink in deeper. If you can find some Jewelweed, which conveniently grows in the same habitat as Poison Ivy, it is supposed to help. If you get the rash, I pity you, but calamine lotion does help. But the best thing is to just avoid it. I have had Poison Ivy rashes twice. Once when I didn't know the plant and got into it in my Florida yard. It took 3 weeks for the rash to stop itching and oozing. The other time I just got careless and brushed my cheek against a vine, even though I had been told to watch out. Another 3 weeks of itching and oozing later, and I was a crusader for Poison Ivy avoidance.

If you have Poison Ivy in your yard, my experience is that you can remove it if you are cautious. Use disposable gloves and clean your cutting and digging tools very carefully and you should be ok. Be careful not to let it get on your clothes or you can spread it to other items in the washing machine. As I mentioned, if you mow or burn, be careful not to breath the airborn sap, or you may find yourself in the hospital or taking steroids.

Jewelweed (Impatiens capensis) is a traditional remedy for Poison Ivy rash

So how do you avoid this stuff? Get to know it and stay away from it! And wear closed toed shoes and long pants in the woods. That's how you keep the ticks and chiggers away, too, so I'm always ready.

I don't know anything about Poison Sumac, so I won't try to help you with ID. You're on your own there. Photos I find online resemble other Sumacs I've seen. And I'm not an expert with Poison Oak, either, which appears to be a shape shifter that can grow into a big bush that looks like an oak tree. Descriptions say they can have 3 or 6 or 9 leaves. Here is my one photo from California. You can see that this one does resemble Poison Ivy.

Pacific Poison Oak (Toxicodendron diversilobum)

But for Poison Ivy remember these:

"Leaves of three, leave it be" or "Leaves of three, don't touch me"

Poison Ivy (Toxicodendron radicans), 3 leaflets. I think that on young plants, the outer two leaves look like mittens.

Poison Ivy leaves grow with three leaflets on a stem. The edges can be smooth, or lobed, but the leaflets will grow in clusters of three. Often the young leaves have a shiny, waxy look. I think the young outer leaflets resemble mittens.

Poison Ivy can be a trailing vine, a climbing vine or a small shrub. It will not have thorns. If it has thorns, you may get poked, but you're safe from Poison Ivy! (Unless they're growing on the same tree, which happens a lot). Many plants are mistaken for Poison Ivy. Here are a few.

This one looks like Poison Ivy but it is a Boxelder sapling. Look for toothed leaf edge, and opposite pairs of leaf stems from the main stalk.

Not Poison Ivy. This is a Blackberry. The leaves are toothed and the stem has small thorns.

Also not Poison Ivy. This plant is in the Legume (pea) family. It has 3 leaves, but they are a more teardrop shape and the leaves are hairy.

This is Virginia Creeper and is often mistaken for Poison Ivy, but it is not. Notice the 5 leaflets rather than 3.

Oak Leaves. Not Poison Ivy or Poison Oak

Poison Ivy plants sprout on the ground and the vine grows, often climbing a tree. An older vine can be deceptive because it can grow branches and the leaves can be huge. But they will still adhere to the "leaves of three" rule. If you have climbing vine a you can use the next mnemonic,

"Hairy is Scary"

Poison Ivy vines have root hairs to attach to the tree trunk and the older vines can almost look like a furry beast climbing a tree. In the winter when the vines have dropped their leaves (they are deciduous), the hairy vine can be your only clue that there is Poison Ivy nearby. Don't hug trees with hairy vines. And speaking of deciduous vines, be cautious when collecting spear-shaped red and orange leaves if you don't know what tree they came from. They could be Poison Ivy.

Big and hairy vine. To me it looks like a monkey tail.

Poison Ivy vine that climbed a Tulip Poplar and grew branches. Most of the branches you see are the Poison Ivy. 

Poison Ivy in fall colors. It is beautiful!

So if these plants are to be avoided at all cost, why don't we just eradicate them? The kids always ask me that. But I tell them to consider this: the leaves are pretty, lush and green. In the fall they are a gorgeous red, orange and yellow. They provide cool shade and oxygen in the forest and contribute to the biomass. They give shelter to birds, insects and squirrels, and their berries are food. Poison Ivy is just another part of the forest. Just because something annoys people doesn't mean that it shouldn't exist. We just need to find a way to live around our annoying neighbors because they are the spice of life.

Poison Ivy berries (they are white--this is an identification tool) provide important food for wildlife

Yellow-bellied Sapsucker climbing a tree with hairy Poison Ivy vines

Question Mark Butterfly amid the Poison Ivy leaflets

Friendly Reminder

Family of Florida Sandhill Cranes at Barr Hammock near Gainesville

Yesterday I was digging through my t-shirt drawer, weeding out the ones I never wear anymore, and uncovered a sock that was tucked inside the neck of a shirt. I just about shouted for joy! It was my long lost sandhill crane sock that had disappeared sometime after a trip to Florida at Thanksgiving. I was really sad that I had lost it and finding it made me so happy that I was smiling and in a good mood for the rest of the day. It's a little hard to explain, but I have a strange emotional attachment to some of my socks and earrings. They each give me comfort in some way. The sandhill cranes were one of the things I missed most about moving away from Florida (besides family and friends, of course!) and these silly socks were a friendly reminder of the birds I had grown to love during our time living there.

Headline News: Beloved sock, found again!

Gainesville might be famous for the Gators, but it should also be known for the cranes. Sandhill cranes are a huge part of the natural history of Florida and of Gainesville. According to the All About Birds website run by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, "the earliest Sandhill Crane fossil, estimated to be 2.5 million years old, was unearthed at the Macasphalt Shell Pit in Florida." The cranes that come to Florida spend their summers in the Great Lakes region and fly south roughly along the I-75 corridor, arriving in November and December. They are a separate subpopulation from the cranes that migrate and gather in the spring to refuel in famously huge numbers (500,000 plus) at the Platte River in Nebraska. (There is also a threatened sub-species called the Florida Sandhill Crane that lives in Florida year round and raises young there. They are somewhat smaller than the migratory cranes.)

USGS Map of Crane Migration. Note that the scientific name for the Sandhill Crane has recently changed from
Grus canadensis to Antigone canadensis

Sandhill cranes are beautiful and large birds (3-4 feet tall) with long legs, a huge wingspan, long bills and a striking red patch on the forehead. They live in families or pairs, but during migration and winter gather together in large flocks. They prefer marshes and fields where they can feed on seeds, roots, bugs and small critters. The marshes give them protection from predators. Over the years, Paynes Prairie Preserve State Park, just outside of Gainesville, with its wet prairie and wide open spaces, has been a preferred wintering ground. Their breeding ground is far to the north where they spend the summer. For the cranes that migrate to Florida, this means Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin and up further into Canada. When the cold and snowy weather arrives in the fall, like all good snowbirds, they head down south. 

A Beautiful Bird

Red Splash

That big bill is good for probing the soil

The cranes arrive in bunches, usually flying in at night. I read that they can fly 170-450 miles per day, probably depending on a good tail wind and whether they find good resting and feeding spots along the way. More cranes keep arriving all month and the flocks grow bigger. After a few weeks it will be common to see large V's of cranes taking off together around mid-morning from their nighttime resting spots to the marshes and farm fields where they pick through the muck and animal feed.

Searching hard for food. Got to get every last bit!

Coming in for a landing

They stick around in sunny Florida, fattening up until February or March, then start the trip back north to breed. They usually lift off mid-morning, maybe because the thermals are better for flying. They circle overhead, waiting as the groups gather, and then they leave in waves, like squadrons of fighter planes moving out. As with arrival, leaving goes on for a few weeks.

Squadrons heading out

Heading north again

Both our homes in Gainesville were under the flyway and I'm not sure if I can count the number of times I was outside working in the yard or out running errands or walking and heard the unforgettable sound of cranes calling. I would stop whatever I was doing and just stand watching them as they flew overhead, calling and answering in their familiar trumpeting voices. I felt a thrill but also felt sadness as I said goodbye for the season, wishing them well on their journey. Until next fall, friends.

Sometimes endangered Whooping Cranes will join Sandhills, as this one did on the UF campus one year. The Whooping Crane is the tall all white bird in the center

In 2008-9 an exceptionally large number of cranes wintered at Paynes Prairie. People estimated that there were 8000 cranes in Gainesville that year. It was an amazing sight. You should see the mess left when a big flock of cranes has spent the winter. The ground was all turned up and every green sprout and seed and slug had been pull out in their furious search for nutritious food. It looked like it had been rototilled. But the plants grew back again, though the cranes really had changed the landscape that year. When the huge flocks headed back north that spring, the sound as they flew and honked overhead was like a roar from a stadium. I remember being so excited that I grabbed the phone and called my mom and dad in California so they could hear it, too, forgetting that there was a time difference. I'm pretty sure I woke them up, but it was for a good reason. Click here for to see a short video and hear just 2 cranes calling to each other. Multiply that sound by several thousand and you can get the idea.

Flying in

Feeding. See how they have turned the soil?

More landing

Over the last several years, fewer cranes have been wintering in Gainesville. Whether this is due to flooding from hurricanes, loss of habitat along the way, climate change, better food elsewhere, is not clear. It is also not clear if they will return to the area in large numbers again. I don't believe that the population is suffering, but they might just be relocating. This year I heard that more were reported at Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia. Thousands of cranes still make the trip down to points south and to Florida, and the non migratory population will stay as long as they can find good habitat. Overall, the success story of the sandhill crane is heartening. At one time there were fewer than 1000 left. But due to conservation efforts they have thrived. They still face threats from habitat loss, pollution, hunting and climate change, but their numbers are currently strong. My friends in Gainesville say that the cranes are gathering and heading north again and people around Kennesaw, north of Atlanta are seeing them now, too. Unfortunately here in Athens, we are far enough away from their flyways that we don't often get to experience the huge flocks flying overhead. I saw one lone crane flying over Athens last fall but never heard the rattling call that thrills my heart. For that experience I still need to head closer to I-75. Even better, maybe one day I can visit the Platte River in Nebraska in the spring. I can only imagine how wonderful it would be to hear the sound of 500,000 plus cranes calling. Meanwhile, my socks are mementos of the cranes I love. But I worry that they will wear out one day. Maybe I need to find something a bit more permanent to hold onto. Like a tattoo? Hmmm.

A Florida Sandhill Crane family I saw at Circle B Bar Reserve last spring

Along Came a Spider

Orchard Orbweaver Spider

I love the fall. Cooler and drier temperatures make it a lot more pleasant to walk outside, watching for migratory birds and butterflies. Wildflowers like asters and Wingstem look pretty against the ripening grass and colorful leaves. And insects and spiders that hatched in the spring and matured all summer are feeding to fatten up enough to lay eggs for next spring's brood. When the school nature walks start up again at the nature center each fall, I tell the children that one reason I need to be the leader is so that I can get a face-full of spiderwebs before they do! Starting in about September, any fall morning walk on a trail involves much arm waving and face wiping to remove the spider webs stretched during the night.

Argiope Orbweaver Web is pretty against the brown grass

This time of year I find spiders and their signs all over. Webs stretched from trees, from buildings, covered with dew and full of drifting seeds. I've found funnel webs and chains of mummified remains of insect meals. A jumping spider took up residence in our porch. And an enormous Dark Fishing or Nurseryweb spider appeared at the entryway to the nature center, greeting all visitors for an entire afternoon.

Orbweaver spider in a porch window

Spiny Orbweaver spider web festooned with Burnweed seeds

Funnel Spider web

Past spider meals

Fishing Spider on the wall

Jumping Spider in my porch

Some people are really scared of spiders. I don't blame them. They are strange looking and hairy, and they have an unfair reputation for biting. (Mostly, if you leave them alone, they leave you alone.) I was looking up something about Little Miss Muffet when I chose the title for this post, and found that some people think she was the real daughter of an entomologist, Dr. Muffet, whose spiders scared her. Personally, though, I think spiders are marvelous and beautiful. I don't think I really appreciated them until I moved to Florida and was introduced to the glorious Golden Silk Orbweaver (sometimes called "Banana") Spider that spins her strong golden webs that can stretch a couple of feet in diameter and are strong enough to catch a lizard. They would set up in the treetops, between the utility lines, and often on the side of our house, sometimes just outside a window. All summer I would watch the females as they grew huge, feeding and tending their webs, eventually affixing a big fuzzy egg sac nearby. I watched the strangely small male spiders stay out of the way, and the shiny web parasite spiders that grabbed a sneaky meal caught by the big female, and sometimes even consumed web. You can read more about them in this post from October 2012.

We've had some good spider activity at our house this year. Early this summer, I found the first Green Lynx spider that I had seen at our house. She was perched on top of a flowering milkweed plant. I was away a lot during the summer and didn't pay much attention to her again until fall when I spied her with a Monarch Butterfly that she had snagged for a meal. Lynx spiders don't catch food with webs, but instead position themselves atop flowers and wait for unsuspecting pollinators to get just a little too close, and...pow! At first I was shocked and a little sad that the Monarch had become prey in our garden, but I watched her lay eggs and knew she did get a chance to pass on her DNA to the next generation. A few days later, I found the spider with another large meal, a Monarch caterpillar. But once again, I wasn't too sad because the milkweed bush was loaded with caterpillars, and if they all survived they would have run out of food. I mentioned this my previous blog, but I think it is important to see Monarchs as part of a bigger ecosystem and not protect them at the expense of their predators who depend on them for food.

Green Lynx spider on milkweed early this summer

She caught a big Monarch butterfly for dinner. Notice her big abdomen--filled with eggs

Another big meal for a hungry spider

A few days later, the Lynx spider was missing. I thought she'd become food herself, caught by a bird or squirrel. But then I noticed her on top of a different bush where she could be even more stealthy. Truth is, the Monarch caterpillars were quickly defoliating the milkweed, so it was a smart move on her part. And just in time, too, because a few days after that I found her again, looking much thinner and clutching a huge egg sac. She tended the sac for several weeks. Then one day I checked on her and she was gone, but the eggs had hatched and dozens of tiny spiderlings clung to the remnants of the sac. I read that after about 2 weeks, the spiderlings would shoot strings of web into the wind (this is called "ballooning") and would be carried off to new locations to begin their adult lives. The cycle of life.

New perch with more shelter

Holding her egg sac. Note small abdomen.

View of the egg sac from below

Spiderlings

Spiderlings cluster around the egg sac. Click here for a video of the spiderlings wiggling.

Also active this time of year are the Argiope or Garden Orbweaver spiders. We have a couple of varieties here in Georgia. The Black and Yellow, or Zipper, or Writing spider and the Banded Garden Orbweaver. They make huge webs in perfect orbs and often decorate them with little lacy segments, call the "stablimentum". The purpose of the stablimentum is not exactly clear. The spiders may hide behind the screen they create, or it may alert birds to the presence of the web so they don't fly through. These spiders often perch in the center of the web and jiggle it back and forth and the stablimentum may attract prey to the web. Whatever the purpose, the effect is very interesting. Some spiders make more of a zigzag in their web, thus the name "Zipper Spider". They are fierce predators and you will often find a large grasshopper or butterfly wrapped up in silk in the web. In September I found a bundle in a Garden Orbweaver web and was a little afraid that it was a hummingbird. After looking more closely, I think it was a large moth. But a spider's gotta eat, too, right? A few weeks later I was in the right place and time to see a Banded Garden Orbweaver nab a grasshopper. I never realized how quickly they can immobilize and wrap their prey. Their spinnerettes can produce sheets of silk when they need it, rather than just one strand. It was fascinating. Many of the female spiders at this time of year are eating for more than one, with their huge, egg-filled abdomens. Argiope spiders make an egg sac that resembles a balloon.

Black and Yellow Argiope spider with zig zag stablimentum

Black and Yellow Argiope behind stablimentum. Hiding from prey?

This one caught a big moth

This Banded Argiope spider caught a grasshopper. Note the fancy striped legs.

Argiope spider egg sac

I mentioned the Golden Silk Orbeaver (Nephila clavipes) spiders found in Florida. I hadn't seen any up here in North Georgia yet. But recently I read reports from our natural history museum that some had been spotted up this way, along with a related spider from Asia, called the Jorō Spider (Nephila clavata). The first reports of this spider in North America have been here in Georgia. They're quite large and very pretty and I hoped to see one some day. Well, my wish came true this fall, and I found one, all right--in my own yard! As I have talked to people about this it has become clear that they are very widespread now and many of my friends have seen them, too. I have been watching this one grow from a smallish, skinny spider to a magnificent beast with an ever growing web. She seems to mostly catch bees, but one day I startled a Brown Headed Nuthatch and it flew into the web and became stuck. Here is a link to a video of the encounter on my photo website. I helped it out and have been checking the web for birds every day since then. So far there have been no other bird snags. I was tempted to remove the web and kill the spider because she is a potentially invasive exotic. But I really hate to do that. They're beautiful animals, just doing what they need to survive. I have not heard yet whether people consider them a problem, and I'm not sure how much good it would do to kill just one, anyway. Meanwhile, I'll keep watching the web and will hope for the best. And we'll see what spiders appear in the garden next spring. 

Jorō spider in her web

Brown-headed Nuthatch caught (for a moment) in a spider web