Guest Blog: Scott Artley joins in on July 8th

On the morning of July 8th, seven people stood at the FlatPak House on the West end of the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, looking much like some of the other tourists wandering through the area. Only instead of capturing photos of artworks, they donned binoculars to catch a momentary glance of birds. Instead of maps filled with the names of public artists, they held pocket-sized plant identification handbooks and ornithology guides.

Abbie greeted us and explained the concept of phenology: the study of the natural world through the seasons, seeking markers of time and change. It’s a science requiring sustained attention to subtlety—an artistic eye is an asset to environmental inquiry. Abbie’s mantra during the excursion was simple: “What do you notice?”

Although I went to Open Phenology to learn about the natural world around the Walker Art Center campus, I found myself fascinated by the way this group became a community as we wandered over the Whitney Bridge into Loring Park. Although Abbie’s is the only Open Field project that engages with the world of science, it does demonstrate aspects familiar to other Open Field activities:

• the facilitation of curiosity
• an ongoing commitment of time and space to step out of the everyday, and
• the ultimate outcome of sharing an experience together.

Thanks for inviting me along, Abbie, I’m looking forward to joining again.

--Scott Artley

Open Field Coordinator and Open Phenology guest blogger

Open Phenology print by Abigail Woods Anderson

Cheetah-bug!

July 8, 11:30 am: Dragonflies animate the field

What: Dragonflies, possibly Halloween Pennants, their yellow and black patterned wings made my colleague exclaim, "Cheetah-bug!"
Where: Walker Open Field—iron stakes and caution tape protect the new sod. Scanning the perimeter, every stake is claimed by a dragonfly. What could be the reason? Heat? Vantage point? I must have seen 20 individuals and I wondered if they would be around at all if not for the stakes offering a feature on the landscape.
Observer: Abbie
Date/Time: July 8, 11:30 am
Conditions: Hot, slight breeze

The Savanna Syndrome

July 6, 9 am: A palette of new sod

Could the appeal of a lush, trim lawn have roots in human evolution? The "Savanna Syndrome," a theory put forth by ecologist John Falk, proposes that our modern-day lawn shares important characteristics with the African savanna inhabited by our ancestors. A grassy plain indicates fruitful foraging. Low-to-the-ground foliage offers unobstructed sight lines, desirable to stay safe from predators. So perhaps there's something essentially adaptive in our attraction to the American lawn and our impulse to cut it.

Knee high by the Fourth of July

Once more, I'm expanding Open Phenology's micro-local focus, this time with a regionally relevant observation. While hiking at the Trout Valley Management Unit in Winona County, a stretch of path led me along a cornfield's perimeter. By my casual estimate, the plants measured up to the old adage, being "knee high by the Fourth of July." Modern agriculture typically surpasses this now-outdated benchmark, but this year's late spring was a setback for the crop's stature.

Turns out that 'knee high' is not a measurement of height. After a bit of research (the clickety-click Web surfing kind), I discover that it refers to a stage of the plant's maturity. Knee high corn is characterized by the sixth leaf's emergence from the stalk and the uppermost growth point's emergence above the soil surface. (Source: David Laatsch, as reported in the Watertown Daily Times) 

I'll have to look more carefully next time!

Constant Vigilance Post Script

Returning to my desk after Open Phenology, my colleague Scott Artley is thrilled to report a hawk seen soaring over the Sculpture Garden. And I recollect that yes, I heard what must have been a hawk's cry. But I was so preoccupied watching thirteen-lined ground squirrels and robins that I didn't look up. Come to think of it, I bet that hawk had the little ground animals in its sights, too!

Next Friday (July 8), Scott Artley will join Open Phenology. In hopes that the hawk might make another appearance, I'm studying the field marks and calls of a few likely species: Red-tailed Hawk, Sharp-shinned Hawk, and American Kestrel.

Post-post script: Here's something to ponder: Where are the grackles today? Usually (so far this summer, that is), Common Grackles are emphatically abundant in the garden, but today I didn't see them. Could it be the heat? Hmm...

Constant Vigilance!

I was chatting with my colleague Christina when I hit upon this truism: constant vigilance is the foundation of good phenological practice. Christina, catching the reference I unwittingly made, explained that Harry Potter's Professor Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody employs this same motto of "Constant Vigilance!" to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. But now back to my familiar domain, that of Muggles, Citizen Science, and natural phenomena in the Walker's vicinity. In my June 23 post, I anticipated seeing changes, these being among them:



What: Nasturtium flowering, leaf at ~5" diameter
Where: Arlene Grossman Memorial Arbor
Observers: Abbie (July 1)
Date/Time: May 27 (left) and about 10:20 am on July 1 (right)
Conditions: Sweltering heat (July 1)

What: American Robin juvenile. While these pictures document different individuals, the emphasis is on change over time (June 10 to July 1)—most noticeably, the development of functional flight feathers.The robin on the right, though about the same size as an adult, can be recognized as juvenile by the plumage. See the speckled breast?
Where: Sculpture Garden, by Scott Burton's Seat-Leg Table (July 1)
Observers: Abbie (July 1)
Date/Time: June 10 (left) and about 10:30 am on July 1 (right)
Conditions: Sweltering heat (July 1) (eighty-some degrees)

So, besides Alastor Moody and myself, who else might call for "constant vigilance?" A gardener, naturally. Not to battle the Dark Arts so much as to keep horticultural entropy at bay. On today's survey, I noticed a team of three gardeners tending to the arbor.

What: Iris leaves, tied in a knot and trimmed, to keep the garden looking orderly. And, in practical terms, this fastidious management allows light to reach the iris' neighbors
Where: Arlene Grossman Memorial Arbor
Observers: Abbie
Date/Time: July 1, about 10:15 am
Conditions: Sunny, hot (eighty-some degrees), and humid

What: Clematis—about 5' tall and flowering—trained with twine to climb the arbor
Where: Arlene Grossman Memorial Arbor 
Observers: Abbie
Date/Time: July 1, about 10:15 am
Conditions: Sunny, hot (eighty-some degrees), and humid







Constant vigilance is hyperbole, of course, but it's something to strive for. Anticipation has a positive influence on awareness.Take for example the Como Park Zoo and Conservatory's corpse flower. Again, props to my colleague Christina who watched the flower webcam with steadfast attention and even made a timely pilgrimage to witness the rare bloom. My vigilance, on the other hand, faltered, and I'm kicking myself for missing it.

If you'd like to prepare for July in hopes of not missing out, here's a tool to help you anticipate: Jim Gilbert's phenology report for July 2010 (PDF, 416 kb).

The Mulberry Gleaners

On my bike ride home today, I stopped to chat with a young couple harvesting mulberries.

Me: What do you do with them?
He: Use 'em anywhere you'd use blackberries.
 . . . pause . . .
He: They're not as sweet as blackberries.
She: But they're cheaper!