Author: Autumn

  • Stars and Skies

    Stars and Skies

    Aurora Borealis on 10/10/24 in Centre County

    Over the last two weeks, our area has been dazzled by astronomical phenomena. First, aurora borealis danced over the Pennsylvania skies. Then, an ancient comet streaked past us after sunset for a few nights. These events remind me that nature extends beyond our communities and forests, into the final frontier.

    Nature is not isolated to what is occurring at Earth’s surface. Stars, comets, planets, and moons are all part of nature, just as rocks, soil, and water. Like animate phenomena, inanimate phenomena interact with other phenomena through physics and chemistry.

    Aurora Borealis on 10/10/2024 in Centre County

    Aurora borealis, for example, are caused by magnetic storms triggered by solar activity. The auroras seen in Pennsylvania were the result of a solar flare. Auroras are uncommon in Pennsylvania but will occur in lower latitudes during periods of high solar activity, the solar maximum. Every 11 years, the Sun’s magnetic poles flip in the Solar Cycle, causing the Sun to have an increase in activity. This activity increases space weather- which eventually may trigger auroras.

    Other inanimate natural phenomena, like Comet A3, occur on a grander scale. C/2023 A3 (Tsuchinshan–ATLAS) has an 80,000-year loop around our solar system. This was the first time Comet A3 has been observed during written human history. The comet was visible in the Northern Hemisphere for a brief window after sunset as it swung around the Sun and passed by Earth. Comet A3 is from the Oort Cloud, an enormous shell of space debris hovering around our solar system. Most, if not all, long-period comets like Comet A3 originate from the Oort Cloud.

    C/2023 A3 Tsuchinshan-ATLAS on 10/17/2024 in Centre County

    These inanimate phenomena cause great effects in animate phenomena. For example, during a total solar eclipse, the sudden change in light can cause animals to be disoriented. Human beings exhibit a variety of behaviors due to what is happening over our heads. As an astronomical observer, the stars, meteors, comets, and auroras fill me with total and complete awe. With the way my fellow comet-watchers reacted last Thursday, I would say that I’m not the only one.

    Thursday evening, I was in a tizzy over the comet, rushing through dinner and scurrying out the door promptly at 6:45pm. I thought I had seen the comet out my kitchen window, but it was only the contrail of an airplane. My partner dropped me off at the dike and I sidled up to a group of people waiting patiently for twilight. Everyone else in the group was from the Philadelphia area, happening to be in the right place at the right time. Together, we chatted about astronomical clubs and events. We discussed at length the differences of stargazing in rural areas versus urban areas. Mostly, we admired the landscape before us.

    C/2023 A3 Tsuchinshan-ATLAS on 10/17/2024 in Centre County

    An interesting study, The Social Effects of An Awesome Solar Eclipse, makes the claim that observing and interacting with solar eclipses causes people to feel a greater connection to the Earth, their communities, and their own selves. On Thursday, this claim was proven as we gasped at the sight of the comet over us. We all agreed that we felt lucky to have been able to see the comet, and to have the experience together.

    After my partner picked me up, my heart was full of emotion. I was full of love for the Earth, excited to have seen the comet with my binoculars, and proud to have taken a handful of pictures. I admit to crying a little bit- at moments like these, I feel overwhelmingly lucky to be alive and bear witness to nature’s perfect beauty.

  • Our Wild Neighbor, the Red-tailed Hawk

    Our Wild Neighbor, the Red-tailed Hawk

    Red-tailed Hawk” by Becky Matsubara is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

    A Red-tailed Hawk swooped down through the trees, lighting a branch to watch who passed by. I was there- walking through Hort Woods after lunch with my colleagues. It’s been a while since I saw a hawk on campus, and years since I’ve been near to my favorite bird.

    In medieval folklore, witches had a familiar, a type of supernatural companion. In a way, Red-tailed Hawks are my familiar, appearing at unusual moments to direct my attention. When I was fifteen, I had a close call with a hawk while refilling bird feeders. As I was shimmying the barrel of a feeder up its string, a soft whump sounded behind me. A chill crept up my neck as I turned- only to find a Red-tailed Hawk deep in the snow. It had likely seen prey in the yard and dived, not minding the teen bumbling around in a snowsuit.

    When I was nineteen, I saw a Red-tailed Hawk crash-land on the road, bleeding and injured. I called the bird in to the Game Commission, and waited with it until the warden rescued and toted it off. Again, when I was twenty-six, I was talking on the phone in a courtyard when a Red-tail decided to take a seat on a brick wall. It enjoyed its lunch while I chatted with my Mom. The Red-tailed Hawks showed no fear of me, or of our surroundings.

    Fear doesn’t appear to be part of a Red-tailed Hawk’s vocabulary. When mated, Red-tailed Hawks will guard their territory together. If a human strays too close, the hawks will take no qualm in scaring them away. The Red-tailed Hawks in my area will dive across I-99 traffic to hit prey in grassy medians. They’ll perch while a PennDOT mower rumbles past, surveying for new-exposed food.

    Red-tailed Hawk” by U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service – Northeast Region is marked with Public Domain Mark 1.0.

    On my daily commute, I see at least two hawks per day. Road warriors, hunting the hills between Bellefonte and State College. A huge swath of I-99 passes by SCI Rockview and Penn State research farms, excellent habitat for prey. Plus, the cultivated fields help form the thermals Red-tailed Hawks use to travel. Interspersed are WMUs, permitting wildlife to live with little human interference.

    I’m not the only person with a love of wild raptors. I recently learned about HawkCount, which records the data collected from raptor watches. Over 300 sites dot North America- with 5 located near me. Right now, Fall watches are occurring at Jacks Mountain and Stone Mountain. I was able to sign up for daily email updates tallying the number of birds observed. I’m fascinated by how many raptors pass through my area during their migration. I’ve been more observant in the field, now that I have a better understanding of what I’m looking for.

    I marked my sighting in eBird, delaying our march back to the office. Yet, as soon as I had seen the hawk, it was gone again. None of my colleagues had the chance to look up into the eyes of our wild neighbor. I explained to them the importance of my stop and eBird, but they continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I spent the rest of the day wondering what else my wild neighbor had wanted me to see.

    Works Cited

    Aucker, Jeff. “Hawkwatch Site Profile – Bald Eagle Mountain – Port Matilda.” HawkCount, 2023, www.hawkcount.org/siteinfo.php?rsite=635. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

    Bohn, Mark, and U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. “Red-Tailed Hawk.” Flickr, Digital Photograph, 20 Dec. 2010, www.flickr.com/photos/43322816@N08/5277662783. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

    Bolgiano, Nick. “HawkWatch Site Profile – Bald Eagle Mountain – Eagle Field.” HawkCount, 2019, www.hawkcount.org/siteinfo.php?rsite=809. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

    —. “HawkWatch Site Profile – Tussey Mountain HawkWatch.” HawkCount, 2024, www.hawkcount.org/siteinfo.php?rsite=438. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

    Grove, Greg. “HawkWatch Site Profile – Stone Mtn.” HawkCount, 2015, www.hawkcount.org/siteinfo.php?rsite=436. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

    Matsubara, Becky. “Red-Tailed Hawk.” Flickr, Digital Photograph, 26 Jan. 2017, www.flickr.com/photos/130819719@N05/32406640251. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

    Pennsylvania Game Commission. “Hawks and Falcons.” Wildlife Note, Pennsylvania Game Commission, www.pgc.pa.gov/Education/WildlifeNotesIndex/Pages/Hawks-and-Falcons.aspx. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

    Smith, Darrell. “HawkWatch Site Profile – Jacks Mountain.” HawkCount, 2023, www.hawkcount.org/siteinfo.php?r=on&rsite=104&go=Go+To+Hawkwatch+Profile. Accessed 13 Sept. 2024.

  • Indiana County’s Buttermilk Falls

    Indiana County’s Buttermilk Falls

    Usually the drive home from Pittsburgh area is uneventful- easy miles on Rt. 22 punctuated by Sheetz and upland forests. After 30 minutes on the road headed home, we decided to take a minor detour to Buttermilk Falls Natural Area.

    A few miles down a country road, we pulled up to a gate staffed by a security guard. He provided simple directions: McFeely Trail to our right, and the Falls Trail to our left. After parking in the overflow section, we stretched our legs and headed to the trail on our left.

    Crisp 65° air filtered through the trees while we meandered down the trail. We admired the accessibility of the walkway as it gracefully turned down the valley. Plenty of signs warned visitors to not stray off the trail- delicate plants grew near the Falls. I noticed plenty of common jewelweed, a sign that deer avoid the area.

    We neared the first viewing platform in short order. Stepping out to the wooden deck, I couldn’t see any running water through the trees and brush. Straining my ears over the sounds of other hikers, I couldn’t hear a waterfall at all.

    Past the first viewing platform, the trail continued over the crest of the falls to a second viewing area. Stairs descended the far side of the valley and led to a platform under Buttermilk Falls. Once we were on the Eclipse Bridge, I realized that Hires Run was very low. Water still descended the valley, but it was a gentle trickle than the roar I was hoping for.

    Other hikers passed us as I led my partner down the stairs. Late summer wildflowers leaned over the cliffside; wood asters full of bumble bees. As we neared Buttermilk Falls, the scent of cool, wet rock permeated the air. As I waited for hikers to clear the area, I watched two small fish dart in the water pooling at the falls’ base.

    We were soon able to walk behind Buttermilk Falls. A thick block of sandstone between two layers of shale allowed for an overhang to develop. Unfortunately, graffiti covered some of the shale wall behind the Falls. I wondered why visitors would want to deface natural beauty with grotesque images. As if to spite the graffiti, moss was spreading over the rock.

    After snapping a few pictures, we started climbing back up the stairs to take a look at the rubble by the falls’ crest. From 1930 to 1956, Mr. Roger’s grandfather owned property along Hires Run, which Mr. Rogers visited as a boy. The foundation of the home, and the weirs used to dam Hires Run are still there. As children were exploring the area, I didn’t dare disturb the rocks to look for salamanders.

    Walking back up the trail, we took our time to talk about football and decide that we will have to stop again. I want to visit in spring, when Hires Run is high and wildflowers are in bloom. My partner would like to visit when the Fall colors riot through the valley in mid-October. At any time, Buttermilk Falls are beautiful, and worth preserving. I’m thankful Indiana County Parks cares for this area and encourages visitors to do the same.

    Works Cited

    Indiana County Parks & Trails. “Buttermilk Falls.” Indiana County Parks & Trails, 26 Feb. 2024, www.indianacountyparks.org/our-parks/buttermilk-falls/. Accessed 9 Sept. 2024.

  • Birding at Fisherman’s Paradise

    Birding at Fisherman’s Paradise

    I turned left off Rt. 150 and started down Paradise Road as the sun faded behind low clouds. Driving slower than I should, I admired a small limestone outcrop and continued on. Soon after, I turned on Spring Creek Road and headed upstream to Fisherman’s Paradise.

    At first, I missed the meeting spot for the State College Birding Club. I turned around at the gate to Fisherman’s Paradise and headed back to a lot near the gate to the Bellefonte State Fish Hatchery. A few cars were there, and I lingered by my Jeep so I could introduce myself to the person unloading their chair.

    Introductions over, we walked along the bridge to the gate and set up our chairs. Already herons were perching on evergreens across the facility, with more flying in. An awkward, shrill call of a Bald Eagle echoed the narrow valley. At first glance, I counted 11 Great Blue Herons, scattered through the canopy.

    Across my vision came the calling Bald Eagle- a juvenile on the cusp of adulthood. While its head and tail were white, a smattering of white feathers down its back shown its age. As it wrangled with a fish on a snag, a younger Bald Eagle soared in, perching on a branch nearby.

    Juvenile bald eagle” by USFWS/Southeast is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

    One of our members arranged a scope at the pair, and as we watched them, another eagle rang out. Agitated, the herons started rearranging themselves, calling amongst themselves. As I was watching a heron pick on a neighbor, an adult Bald Eagle landed in the upper story of an evergreen. I watched as it threw its head back and called, cackling over the herons.

    At this point, the herons started blending with the trees as the sun set in earnest. The eagles were easier to watch, with their white heads flashing against the shadows. A fourth Bald Eagle dropped out of the sky to land in another tree, causing a ruckus among herons. Their guttural croaks floated across the valley, much like an old man’s groan of dismay.

    Since the sun was dipping closer to the tree line, small bugs rose out of the water and fluttered around our group. On cue, cedar waxwings emerged from the trees behind us and started catching the bugs. Mesmerized, I watched the songbirds catch insects on the wing for some time. Not long after the cedar waxwings, tree swallows shot out from behind buildings. Together, the birds drove the insects down, leaving us alone.

    Common Nighthawk” by Fyn Kynd is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

    As I was packing up to leave, our group had one more surprise: a pair of migrating Common Nighthawks. To the right side of the valley, the hawks seemed to hover over the treeline. This was my first sighting of Common Nighthawks, and I rushed to note them in eBird before heading off to my car.

    For an area renowned for its fishing, the birding was excellent. For 60 minutes, I observed a total of 7 species and 26 birds. Our group observed 14 species and 52 birds. The area is available from sunrise to sunset throughout the year. While a visitor cannot cross into fenced areas, there is space near the gate to set up a chair and observe.

  • Caving Tytoona Cave Nature Preserve

    Caving Tytoona Cave Nature Preserve

    In August, I revisited a favorite place: Tytoona Cave Nature Preserve. This was my 3rd time visiting. Tytoona continues to ignite excitement and curiosity in my heart!

    Before You Continue

    Caving is a dangerous activity. Dying while caving is 100% possible, no matter how “safe” you believe you are. To explore Tytoona, you need a permit from the National Speleological Society (NSS). You will agree to the Preserve’s Access Rules. More details are on the NSS website at: https://caves.org/preserve/tytoona-cave-nature-preserve/.

    Karst Geology

    Caves form underground when water dissolves soluble rock. A “soluble rock” is a rock that dissolves in water: limestone, dolomite, marble, and salt. Limestone and dolomite are sedimentary rocks which form via lithification of carbonate sediment. Marble is metamorphic, forming from limestone or dolomite after metamorphic stress.

    Water dissolves rocks and forms specific phenomena labeled as karst. Sinkholes, disappearing streams, springs, and caves are examples of karst. Sinking Valley in Centre County is a good example of karst topography. The landscape is full of rolling hills and streams that seem to “disappear” or “sink” into the ground. Scattered throughout the valley are sinkholes and a handful of caves.

    One stream, Sinking Run, formed a cave system- Tytoona. From its headwaters near Fort Roberdeau, Sinking Run “disappeared” into the ground. Water percolated through bedrock, dissolving limestone to form caverns. In one location, the water weakened the rock to cause the roof of a cavern to collapse, creating an entrance.

    Inside Tytoona

    Throughout Tytoona, speleothems are small. Formations like stalagmites, stalactites, draperies, and straws are often swept off by floodwaters. Some flowstones are visible along higher shelves in the cave. During my last visit, I struggled to take pictures of the formations close by.

    Visitors must be mindful of the water- it is easy to slip and fall. Some areas of water are very deep. The area I was exploring had dry walkways, with Sinking Run ankle-deep to my right. When Sinking Run is high or fast, it’s too dangerous to enter the cave.

    True History

    Speleologists theorize that Tytoona connects to Arch Springs through a series of sumps. These underwater passages are difficult to explore and map. When I was younger, I had the opportunity to explore all the way to the back of the permit area. My instructor sat the class on gravel and told us the story of Roberta Swicegood, who lost her life in Tytoona.

    In the late 1980s, Roberta was an experienced and passionate cave diver. She and John Schwein were surveying Tytoona. As a team, they were solo diving a series of sumps in zero-visibility waters. During their dives, the team was installing guide lines to help navigate in the darkness. On her last dive, Roberta left John behind and forged ahead into the unknown.

    While surveying the sump, Roberta separated from the guide line. Speculation believes she ran out of air while searching for the line. Eventually, she fell asleep and then suffocated, alone in the darkness. After four days of recovery work, rescuers returned her body to the surface. She was found about 10 feet away from the guide line. If she had been able to reach the line, she could have survived and returned on her own.

    After Roberta’s death, the property owners forbade diving and enacted a permit program. NSS is serious about enforcement, visitors are not to enter without a permit. Since Roberta’s passing, there have been no deaths in Tytoona.

    Concluding Thoughts

    Despite the danger, exploring a wild cave is a marvelous experience. With enough time, water creates beautiful and complicated features underneath our feet. While I have visited many times already, I know there are always more Tytoona trips for me in the future!

    Works Cited

    Czmor, Garrett. Tytoona Cave Preserve. Mid-Appalachian Region of the National Speleological Society, Dec. 2000, www.mar.caves.org/tytoona.htm. Accessed 6 Sept. 2024.

    “Inside Cave, a Deadly Mystery.” Altoona Mirror, Altoona Mirror, 26 June 1988, www.newspapers.com/article/altoona-mirror-schweyen-cave-diving-dea/4043745/. Accessed 6 Sept. 2024.

    Kevin Patrick. Pennsylvania Caves & Other Rocky Roadside Wonders. 1st ed., Stackpole Books, 2004, pp. 57–59.

    “Tytoona Cave Nature Preserve.” National Speleological Society, 30 May 2024, www.caves.org/preserve/tytoona-cave-nature-preserve/. Accessed 6 Sept. 2024.