Funny, personal, based on science, and specific to Virginia, this syndicated nature column is written by native Virginian Pam Owen, a journalist, certified Virginia Master Naturalist, and lifelong conservationist.
“Wild Ideas” focuses on nature outside our doors as it unfolds throughout the year. From backyards to public lands, the column reveals the complexities of our local ecosystems and the lives of the plants and animals that dwell in them. Their stories are told from the perspective of an avid student of nature Now published in...
See more wild ideas at Pam's blog:
Subscriptions for publications:
Affordable, tiered subscriptions to the "Wild Ideas" column are available for $50–100 per month. For more information, contact Pam Owen at or (540) 227-0137 or Wild_Ideas@NighthawkCommunications.net.
 Funny, personal, based on science, and specific to Virginia, this syndicated nature column is written by native Virginian Pam Owen, a journalist, certified Virginia Master Naturalist, and lifelong conservationist.
“Wild Ideas” focuses on nature outside our doors as it unfolds throughout the year. From backyards to public lands, the column reveals the complexities of our local ecosystems and the lives of the plants and animals that dwell in them. Their stories are told from the perspective of an avid student of nature | Now published in...
See more wild ideas at Pam's blog: Subscriptions for publications:
Affordable, tiered subscriptions to the "Wild Ideas" column are available for $50–100 per month. For more information, contact Pam Owen at or (540) 227-0137 or Wild_Ideas@NighthawkCommunications.net. |
|
As much as I’ve always loved nature, I’ve managed to passively avoid whole chunks of natural history—fungi, for example, although I’ve been intrigued by mushrooms since I was a kid. I knew toads didn’t actually sit on toadstools (hookah-smoking caterpillars did that), but I did seem to find an awful lot of toadlets under mushrooms with the classic umbrella shape. Maybe they were feeding on invertebrates that were in turn feeding on the fungi, or maybe they were just getting shelter from weather or predators. I love amphibians, so mushrooms became intriguing—along with their funky look and smell and the fact that they loved dark, damp places. Maybe my failure to learn more about mushrooms when, as an
adult, I decided to devote more time to learning about nature can be chalked up
to the fact that I’m somewhat indifferent about eating fungi. While I’ve had
some incredible meals that involve mushrooms and I’ve have been lured into
fruitless searches for merkels by obsessed friends, left to my own devices I
wouldn’t go out of my way to eat any fungus. More...
|
|
 A Parasol Mushroom when it first emerges as a button (above right), the cap from underneath in maturity, showing its spore-carrying gills (above left), and the cap from above (below left). Photos by Pam Owen.
|
 Photo by Darkone..(Licensed under the Creative
Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 Generic license.)
|
Sterling North, in his 1963 Newbery-award-winning book Rascal, humorously details his adventures with his eponymous pet raccoon in Wisconsin in 1918. When North was eleven, he raided a raccoon nest in a tree cavity, where raccoons usually have their young (kits). The kit North captured became his favorite companion, sharing adventures and sleeping in his bed. The North American Raccoon (Procyon lotor) is smart, curious, bold, omnivorous, and opportunistic—like a small bear in a mask. Our relationship with them has been a conflicted one. We’ve been captivated by the raccoon’s antics, confounded by some of its behavior and annoyed at its skillful thievery. Not only have we captured and kept them as pets, we’ve hunted them for their fur and meat, and for sport, and we’ve waged war against them because they eat our food, invade our homes, and share our susceptibility to rabies. More... |
| That evening in Rappahannock, as I was walking my dog through a meadow where I lived, I saw a vague silhouette careening through the sky in the twilight. Because of its size, I thought at first it was a small hawk. However, not only was it late in the day for those diurnal hunters, the flight pattern and wing outline were all wrong, too. The wings formed a crescent and, when the bird finally swooped over my head, I saw in the dying light a dim flash of white bars on the underside of the wings, which clinched the identification — a Common Nighthawk (Chordeiles minor). I could hardly believe my eyes. After all these years of being away from the Northern Plains and leaving that life behind, I suddenly felt the two worlds were joined in the flight of this interesting bird. In the early 1980s, after I’d moved from Virginia to Montana and then Wyoming, I joined with a graphic artist to form a company that offered photography, graphics and writing. As my partner and I were both night creatures and offered quick turnaround to clients, often working all night, we wanted a name that would put that message across and also root us in Wyoming. More... |
 Reproduction of a painting of the Common Nighthawk in flight. By Bob Hines, United States Fish and Wildlife Service.
|