Summer: Canoeing, jellyfish and magic crickets

I can't escape new discoveries in nature these days and these last few weeks before our children return to school is a great time for memory making outdoors, because so much is happening.

Canoeing and birding

While canoeing on the St. Francis River with some of our New Generation Conservation Corps members, I had the chance to see a Great Blue Heron take off into flight from the river bank. It was an awesome sight. Unfortunately, my eyes were so enamored by the bird, I forgot to lift my camera and permanently capture the moment.

Huge numbers of shorebirds are migrating right now, according to the Missouri Department of Conservation, so grab your binoculars and head out to the Mississippi or St. Francis rivers or to the Mingo National Wildlife Refuge and Duck Creek Conservation Area to catch these birds on the move.

The arrival of shore birds in the spring and their disappearance at the end of the summer is one of the most familiar aspects of bird life in Missouri, as well as most of North America. By migrating with the seasons, the birds can avoid the physical stress of uncomfortable climates and they take advantage of food supplies that are available in certain locations for a limited time each year.

Migration in North America follows a north and south path along four main routes or "flyways"; Pacific, Central, Mississippi, and Atlantic. Missouri falls in the Mississippi "flyway" path of migration and our shorebirds include the American Golden Plover, the Killdeer, the Lesser Yellowlegs, the Pectoral Sandpiper, and the Wilson's snipe.

These birds undertake some of the most spectacular long-distance migrations of any North American birds. Some traverse more than 15,000 miles in their annual circuit. Many fly at altitudes exceeding 10,000 feet and approach 50 mile-per-hour cruising speeds.

Freshwater jellyfish?

After the canoe trip, I had the chance to learn about Fresh Water Jellyfish. Until a local woman brought some in from her family farm, I didn't even know they existed. She brought the jellyfish to the Cape Girardeau Conservation Nature Center in a mason jar so our naturalists could share them with the local community.

These tiny jellyfish, which aren't really true jellyfish when compared to its marine relatives, were about the size of a quarter when I watched them flare out to rise to the top of the jar. Their movement was almost hypnotic, and could have put me to sleep if I gazed at them for long. To see what I mean, click here, to watch a video I took of the almost clear, umbrella-shaped beauties.

If you're determined to go out looking for fresh water jellyfish, do so in the summer and fall months, but realize they're not easy to find. Besides their small size and translucence, these jellyfish are rarely sighted. In fact, they'll sometimes be seen in a body of water in abundance one year and if they return, it may not happen again for several years. The determined freshwater jellyfish stalker should look in calm, freshwater lakes, reservoirs or ponds and might find them in recreational fishing and boating areas.

Magic crickets?

If you can't get too far away from home to search for migrating shore birds or freshwater jellyfish, you might be able to escape with your children to your backyard or patio one of these nice summer evenings and teach them to tell the temperature by ear. Yes, you read correctly -- by ear.

Listen for a field cricket and count the number of chirps you hear within 14 seconds. Then add 40 to the number of chirps and that will be the current temperature in Fahrenheit.

Then explain to your children that the cricket doesn't really "know" what the temperature is. According to the Missouri Department of Conservation, male field crickets will make a slow series of chirps on warm nights to attract a mate, when the temperature is around 77 degrees Fahrenheit. Usually, they'll chirp about 2 or three times per second. The pace of the chirp is set by the temperature of the air. The warmer it is, the faster the chirp.