Nature's Call

Making an impression

Quick! Name the leaves shown above.

If you said, "Pretty," it works for me. (They are mostly maple, for those you who simply have to know such things.)

For those who live in the Intermountain West -- or anyplace in which the leaves turn crimson, gold, bronze and orange in autumn -- fallen leaves are about the best part of the season.  They not only are brilliant and beautiful to behold, but they also smell pungent and clean and make a lovely crunching sound when you walk on them.

Now is the perfect time to take a walk and make something to remind you of autumn all year long.  When was the last time you made a leaf rubbing?  If your answer starts with "19..." then it has been far too long.

Grab some white paper -- that stuff from your printer will do -- a handful of your kids' crayons (Oh, all right. Take the children along, too), and head out to your back yard or favorite trail or park.  Collect a few leaves and start rubbing. Make designs by overlapping the leaves and using different colors. Put the date and location of the rubbing in a lower corner in neat print or script. 

Then laminate the results for some cool keepsakes. Rubbings on legal-size paper can become place mats. Rubbings on 3-by-3-inch sheets can be made into coasters or Christmas ornaments. Rubbings also can be done on Velum paper or similarly thin (but sturdy) paper, and affixed to blank note cards for some custom greeting cards for fall or even Christmas.

Of course, the best part about it is that you will be outdoors enjoying the crisp fall weather with your family and friends (the leaves). It only lasts a few weeks so don't wait.  The laundry, dishes, dusting and, yes, the raking will still be there when you get back.

When your best bird has prickles

I thought seeing 19 bald eagles would be the highlight of our bird-watching venture today -- until I saw the porcupines.

They are pictured above, resting in the thick limbs of a Russian olive tree. (I am aware that, from this perspective, they look like a couple of cheap wigs left over from a New Year's Eve bash gone awry. Next time, you get closer with the camera, and I'll watch.)

We spotted them while roaming Antelope Island State Park with the local Audubon Society for the last of this season's Christmas bird counts. Audubon groups across the country take to the fields, marshes and parks of their local communities throughout the month of December to identify and count birds.

It is based solely on volunteer birders whose abilities range from expert to beginner. So some would argue that it probably is not the most scientific tally available. But the surveys date back about 100 years in some regions, and, over time, that kind of information can indicate trends -- such as occurrences of rare species or changes in habitat and populations of common birds, which often are brought about by suburban sprawl and development.

Participating in these counts not only is a great way to learn more about birds, but also is a terrific way to spend some time outdoors with a purpose. The latter is very important, for the most wondrous sights on any hike or scenic walk are those we discover by accident while looking for something else.

For example, while searching for birds tucked in the towering cattails (good) and feathery phragmites (bad) that bordered a small pond today, we found tracks made by coyote, fox, small game birds and rabbits, along with the feathered remains of what looked to be a quail that had recently made someone a hearty lunch.

Oh, yeah -- and we saw a bunch of red-wing blackbirds and a couple of magpies.

But it was on our return trip that we stopped to gaze upon the porcupines sleeping in the olive tree. We were helping our party's leader look for a northern shrike, which he had hoped to see but hadn't. In focusing our gaze upon the trees along the side of the road, we saw what I thought were two large nests or balls of twigs and leaves. (As one who has mistaken about 300 clumps of leaves for birds in this season's counts, I was not about to say anything about these dark spots in the tree.)

"Those are porcupines," our fellow birder said. He and the other two people in our group waited patiently while I trudged through the snow to the edge of the gully where the olive tree stood and snapped a few pictures.

While I was shooting, guess what landed atop a nearby tree?

The northern shrike.

If that turn of events doesn't strike you as funny, the appearance of a porcupine certainly would. One of them raised its head momentarily revealing a creature that looks as if Tina Turner's hair stylist had a hand in its creation.

Porcupines are plant-eaters (herbivores) that sleep in rocky or brushy dens on the ground or sleep in trees. The choice depends on the amount of cover available on the ground and the number of predators in the area.

In the Great Basin region that encompasses Utah and Nevada, porcupines often take refuge in trees. Given the number of coyote and fox tracks I saw today, I cannot blame these two for choosing the penthouse option. According to other members of our group porcupines are a common sight during the Christmas counts.

I suppose "common" depends on one's point of view. As we emerged from a cattail forest earlier that day, one of the new birders asked me, "What's the rarest bird you've ever seen?"

Tough question. My so-called "life list" names fewer than 200 species, none of which are particularly rare. For me, "rare" can mean I recall seeing it once before and can identify it. "Rare" also describes what birds were doing when I saw them -- such as the pair of bald eagle parents teaching their youngster how to hunt in a secluded cove in Grand Teton National Park late last summer.

"What's the rarest bird you've ever seen?" If he had asked me 35 minutes later I could have told him.

Porcupines.

A nature 'staycation'

As the economy wreaks havoc on many families' summer vacations, it doesn't hurt to have a backup plan. And with a little creativity staying home can be almost as fun as going somewhere.

OK, I said almost. For those whose idea of the best vacation involves staying at a posh resort with lots of amusement rides and splashing pools for the children and ample staff to tend to the every whim of the adults, this isn't going to be much help.

But for those whose vacation was to be some time spent together in the natural setting of a national park or forest, there is a way to replicate some of that fun without venturing far from home by using the old standby: The back yard camp out.

I'm not talking about merely setting up a tent for the kids and going inside at 10 p.m. when the novelty wears off to watch the latest Netflix installment. I mean camping out for real -- all night, under the stars, weather be damned.

Many of us spend quite a lot of money, time and sweat making our yards places to enjoy, then become so busy we fail to have time to enjoy them. A back yard camp out provides such an opportunity. But it's an all-or-nothing proposition.

First, set the ground rules: No electronic anything. No runs into the house except to use the bathroom. (You can even hide the remote controls and unplug the television, computers, etc., to make the point.) No last minute rescues by friends who call or text with a better offer. This is your family vacation. For purposes you are "out of town" for the duration.

Set up the entire camp as you would if you had gone to the campground of your choosing: tents, chairs, stove, cooking gear, coolers, etc. If camp coffee is what you would have had away from home, then no sneaking out to Starbucks before everyone is awake or creeping into the kitchen to make it there. Adults have to follow the rules too.

One activity to help seal the idea that you've "gone" somewhere is to engage in a group activity to create something to use for the duration of camp. Hit the local craft stores and pick up some plain white canvas baseball camps or bucket hats and let each person use colorful permanent markers to decorate his or her hat. You can also do this with plain-color bandannas.

Or create nature journals for everyone to use on the "trip." Take a few sheets of white paper from your printer -- three for each book ought to be enough -- and have pieces of card stock in various colors for people to use as covers. Fold three sheets of white paper the short way and fold a sheet of card stock over them, creating a booklet. Staple the inside along the fold or punch holes along the fold-- one near the top and one hear the bottom -- and tie with twine.

Then do a nature scavenger hunt. Divide into two teams and set the parameters: Front and back yards, the entire block, a one-block radius, etc. Then give each team a notebook (and a digital camera, if possible) and assign each team to bring back, or record the existence of, five items related to specific topic.  Simple field guides might also be helpful.

For example, one team may have to find find pieces of evidence that mean birds live in the area. This can mean spotting actual birds (but they must be identified) or simply seeing nests, droppings or hearing their calls (describe the calls on paper the best that you can). Another team could be assigned to find five different insects or evidence of their existence. Think roadside wildflowers, trees or mammals.

The end of the game involves meeting back at camp at an appointed time and showing what you found. Sometimes the stories of how someone found a particular item can be quite hilarious ("The bird pooped on Mr. Lambert's car - right after he washed it!") Make sure there is a prize for the team who gets everything on the list and arrives back first -- like a special pin or sticker for their camp hats, bandannas or journals. The photos can be printed later and pasted inside the journals.

Families who are good at this sort of thing might opt for more serious topics such as noxious roadside weeds, litter or ways in which the neighborhood could conserve water or energy. For these families, the end of the game could involve planning a service project you could do as a group when you "get home" from your vacation.

If fishing or long hikes through the woods figured prominently in your plans, why not hit a local trail, nature center, park or the local lake, stream or even fishing farm instead? Those of us who have grown used to traveling for such activities can ignore the opportunities available closer to home. As usual, record the outing in your journals with photos, written accounts or by drawing pictures or gluing bits of nature onto the pages.

Of course, this isn't going to feel like that trip to Yellowstone or Yosemite. But it can feel like a vacation, if the focus is on each other and nature, rather than the restaurants, games and other trappings of your typical daily routines.