For the past several years, here in Missouri's Ozarks, we are finally seeing turkeys again. Decades ago, when we first camped and hiked in this area, we saw dozens of wild turkeys, and were never surprised to see flocks wandering across fields, or crossing roads from one side of the forest to another.

This is a good time of year to check out the woods and meadows for mushrooms. It just so happens within 3 days of each other, I found two edible and beautiful specimens.

Remember those large, black and yellow garden spiders (Argiope aurantia) that seemed so scary when you were a child? Fortunately they are still around, although some reports state they are declining in numbers like just about every other form of wildlife.

It is important to keep in mind that by mowing large swaths of tall wildflowers, grasses, and what-have-you, in the later summer or early fall, you could be disrupting the life cycle of these beautiful and beneficial creatures.

The Black Bear is definitely returning to Missouri, and probably most if not all of those living in Missouri now have ancestral roots in Arkansas. Thank you Arkansas!
One of the reasons we live where we do (in the middle of nowhere) is for as much nature experience as possible. Several weeks ago hubby was lucky enough to see this guy wandering through, so he grabbed an old, expired-by-two-years, disposable camera, and started clicking away, catching nine shots before Smokey wandered off.

It is great to see wildlife, even if we occasionally have differing points of view. Our orchard this year has been the feeding ground for deer, oppossums, squirrels, and raccoons, if not more, and it is our fruit trees that is the point of contention. We are not against sharing, but when wildlife literally breaks branches (deer) and eats every fruit they can hold in one evening, coming back night after night, that's when and where we draw the line.

While walking a newly blazed trail in our woods last month I heard an unusual bird call--one I do not recall ever having heard. So I scrutinized the area carefully for several minutes only to discover a male Scarlet Tanager singing away, appearing to be accompanied in song by several others, including the female, but no other adult males. It was reminiscent of a "bird band", as they seemed to be singing together and to each other.

Wilderness Advocates: It's Time to Gather Together!

On Saturday, September 6, old hands and new faces from across the state will meet at the Missouri Wilderness Conference in Salem, MO to learn about and take action on the new Missouri Wilderness proposal. Fun will be had by all as we plan the next steps in the effort to designate seven wild, spectacular places as Wilderness areas. You won't want to miss it!

Comments are due by May 16 on the Southwest Project in the Cedar Creek District of the Mark Twain National Forest. This project includes heavy logging, cattle grazing, road development, building two parking areas, fence building, and other activities in the proposed Smith Creek Wilderness. Read more about it here.

Send comments from here.

Forest Service Plans Logging and Development in Proposed Smith Creek Wilderness: Your Comments Needed Now!

Situated in the midst of mid-Missouri’s population centers of Columbia, Fulton, and Jefferson City, the Cedar Creek District of the Mark Twain National Forest is much-used and much-beloved. And no portion of the Cedar Creek District is mor e special or better loved than the beautiful and still surprisingly remote Smith Creek proposed Wilderness Area above and below the old Rutherford Bridge connecting Boone and Callaway Counties. For more than 25 years, conservationists have worked with the Forest Service to respect and protect the authentic wilderness character of Smith Creek’s streams, bluffs, pinnacles, forests, wildlife, and solitude. In 2007, Smith Creek was included in a statewide proposal along with six other Missouri areas for designation as a federal Wilderness Area.

Bats Perish, and No One Knows Why

By TINA KELLEY
Published: March 25, 2008

Al Hicks was standing outside an old mine in the Adirondacks, the largest bat hibernaculum, or winter resting place, in New York State.

It was broad daylight in the middle of winter, and bats flew out of the mine about one a minute. Some had fallen to the ground where they flailed around on the snow like tiny wind-broken umbrellas, using the thumbs at the top joint of their wings to gain their balance.