Exploring the Western NY Wilds: Horned larks and death-defying courtship

 

 

A couple years ago, this column dismantled the widely-held belief that robins are a sign of spring, exposing it for what it is – a myth. Those red-breasted birds are with us all winter, just in lesser numbers and hidden from view for most of us.

That left some people wondering just what do I consider to be the first sign of spring?

There are many.

 

One of them has to be the rather strange, even dangerous, mating ritual of the horned lark.

What is a horned lark?

The horned lark is the New World’s only true lark, which is amazing given that there are 90 species of larks in the Eastern Hemisphere.

It is a rather small, ground dwelling bird. Coming in at 7 or 8 inches, it’s not much larger than a sparrow (although more streamlined and less chubby in appearance). From a distance — which is normally how they are observed since they are rather skittish — they appear just as plain as sparrow, a drab light brown.

 

But, when you look at them through field glasses, you are in for a surprise. Larks are actually quite attractive.

They have a black stripe through the eye, a black crescent on the upper chest, and two black horns (which are really feathers) that account for their name. Mixed in between those wisps of black are facial and forehead colorations that range from ghost white to bright yellow.

Where do they live?

Larks can be found all year long in large, open fields. They prefer mostly barren habitats; that is, they like the ground to be plant-free or having plants shorter than 3 inches in height. So, as crops and weeds get too tall, they will vacate the area, moving on to other fields, only to return once a field is plowed. From my experiences, they’re most abundant in hay, alfalfa, and winter wheat fields.

In the winter months, you will see them in especially large flocks of 12 to 30 birds, often frequenting roadsides in the snowiest of times as plowing exposes the seeds they need from plants along the road’s shoulder. From now till July, they will be in flocks of 6 birds or fewer, which is typically a family.

What is the status of the horned lark?

 
Horned larks can be relatively common in eastern Niagara, Orleans, Genesee, and Wyoming Counties. In Allegany County, they remain uncommon -- the most recent Breeding Bird Atlas shows them nesting in just six observation blocks across the county. As for the rest of that state, their numbers have really plummeted. Since 1966, their population has been in a freefall in the Empire State – declining 2.9% per year. This is due to the de-emphasis of farming in certain areas of the state and the reforestation of farms, which takes away the larks’ habitat. Nationally, their numbers have decreased by 62 percent since 1966.

Because of that, horned larks are a species of special concern in New York State, the third-in-line category when it comes to assessing the health of an animal’s population in the state. Species of special concern warrant attention and consideration but current information, collected by the Department of Environmental Conservation, does not justify listing these species as either endangered or threatened.

I’ve always approached such rankings for this and other grassland birds with a little trepidation. Wide open grasslands did not exist in any volume across upstate New York before the Europeans came; the area was just a gigantic forest. The larks came to be in this region because of Man. They weren’t naturally occurring. So, is Mother Nature only seeking her preferred equilibrium now?

When do they breed?

Horned Larks have the unique distinction of being New York’s earliest nesting songbird. They nest in late-February and March, even when snow covers half of the fields on which they build their nests.

Since March storms are occasional occurrences, horned larks compensate for Old Man Winter’s ruination of early batches of eggs and/or decimation of hatchlings by having up to 3 broods a year. They breed so early in the year that most young birds have left the nest by the time the first plows come around.

What about that mating ritual?

The mating ritual mentioned at the beginning of this article is bizarre and death-defying.

The male horned lark will rocket high into the air, 500 to 800 feet up. While ascending, he will sing a rather neat tinkling or bubbling song. Once that song stops, he brings his wings into his body and goes into total freefall. Since his wings are not out to slow down his fall, gravity will have full effect and he will fall at incredible speeds, speeds at which you’ve never seen a bird move.

As you watch this, you think that the bird is going to die by splatting on the ground. But he doesn’t ... when he’s mere feet from the ground he will spread his wings, instantly right himself, and land on his feet rather softly. I’ve seen this many times and I still don’t know how they do it.

Probably happy that he didn’t die and proud that he could impress his potential mate, the male horned lark then puffs out his chest and saunters around the female with both of his horns outstretched or erect like devil’s horns.

If you head out to a local field in March, just an hour or so before sunset, you might see this strange ritual. It’s neat no matter how often you see it, as each time you expect that the male horned lark will die, but he doesn’t.

It just shows that men do dangerous things to impress women, even in the animal world.

 

 

From the 31 March 2025 Wellsville Sun

Some kids need you more than you know

 

I’ve been listening to the police scanner for well over 35 years. Eavesdropping on the dispatching and responses of sheriff’s deputies and volunteers keeps me in the know about things going on. 

 

The knowledge gleaned from the scanner is more than where an accident or fire might be, or where the latest speed trap is set-up. Listen long enough and you’ll begin to understand the social conditions in certain parts, certain households of your community.

 

It can be incredibly uncomfortable and heartbreaking to hear officers being dispatched to broken homes, something that’s too regular of an occurrence. For example, according to the New York Division of Criminal Justice Services, all law enforcement departments within Niagara County had a combined 1,255 reports of domestic violence in 2023. Among them were 1,183 cases of assault, 42 sexual offenses against a family member, and 30 violations of protection orders.

 

Mind you, those are just the cases recorded as actual arrests. There were thousands of 911 calls and tips about physical domestic situations and intense verbal abuse. It’s estimated that the LEOs in Niagara County respond to 3,000 to 4,000 of such calls every year. And, remember this: Most victims and witnesses remain silent; thousands more situations go unreported. 

 

There are the direct victims, those who call 911 looking for help and those who remain silent despite being abused mentally, physically and sexually.

 

And then there are the indirect victims. They may not have been hit or berated, but they saw it. They experienced it. They lived it.

 

Children are occupants of many of those homes and apartments where hate and discord rule. It could be they were beaten or demeaned. Maybe they their saw dad hit their mom or knock her down. Perhaps they witnessed their mother going on a drunken rage towards their father.

 

Those are just the tip of the iceberg when you hear some of the calls on the scanner – the level of escalation of some domestic events is frightening.

 

You have to feel for the kids who grow up in such families. If they aren’t abused, a loved one is and that in itself is a form of abuse towards the child.

 

Those incidents sear into a child’s memories and behaviors. They could give nightmares, instill fear, plant the seeds for hate, lead to substance abuse, foster depression and suicidal thoughts, lead to lower grades, and make dysfunction a normalcy that the child will carry into his or her relationships one day. Many will rise above their circumstances, some will not, and even if they do the painful memories linger.

 

I bring all this up to give perspective to those who provide service to children.

 

Whether you are a school teacher, sports coach, club leader, Sunday school instructor, or a scout leader, we all have to understand that these victims – primary and secondary alike - are in our classrooms, on our teams, and in our troops. The sheer volume of dispatches and domestic statistics show us that it’s more than likely that they’re in an extracurricular activity you oversee -- and it’s a certainty in your classroom.  

 

You likely don’t know who, and in many cases you won’t. That may be from masking of the hurt by the child or the sheer joy he or she has being around you.

 

Realize that in many cases you are providing a safe place, a good place to a child. Your classroom, baseball field, or campout might be the only place they feel happy, loved or safe.

 

Think about that.

 

Most of us grew up having loving parents and valuing home above all else. But, that isn’t the case for so many children. They fear home. They don’t what will happen to them. They don’t know what will happen to their mother or father.

 

Every child we serve has different expectations of us – a boy scout from a well-adjusted home may want the adventure of a camping trip while one from a broken home may only want you to be you, someone for him to strive to be, someone who isn’t his dad.

 

You may not realize it, and they might never tell you, but to kids from troubled homes you are their hero -- they might see you as the mother or father they always wished they had.

 

That significance can be an overwhelming way to view what we do when doing good for children. But, it’s a necessary view. We have roles in this world, some much bigger than we always assume them to be. Hurt kids are too many, and it’s up to us, as their educators and leaders, to give them the safe harbor they deserve and, from there, the help they need to navigate life.  

 

 

From the 29 March 2025 Greater Niagara Newspaper and Wellsville Sun  

Why it’s called Gasport

 

Almost all Western New Yorkers know about the famous “Eternal Flame” at Chestnut Ridge Park in Erie County. That flame, created by gas seeping from shale at the park, has always made the Park a popular destination.

 

Though uncommon, there are gas seeps located throughout the northern half of Western New York. A few of them gave rise to the name “Gasport”, a community you are familiar with if you live in eastern Niagara County or, if you don’t, you know of by your visits to Becker Farms.

 

A lot of history to and science are behind that community’s name.

 
The young hamlet at the time of the construction of the Erie Canal was known as Jamesport. It was an unauthorized name, having no legal merit or consideration by the town of Royalton’s founding fathers.

 

In 1826, students from the Rensselaerian School (now Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute) were making an excursion up the Erie Canal for the purpose of geological study when they discovered gas bubbling in springs near the Canal. They suggested to one of the locals that the community be named Gasport instead, recognizing the oddity. The students were delighted on their return trip just days later to see that the name was painted on buildings and docks. One myth has the name’s creation attributed to Governor DeWitt Clinton as he toured the area for canal construction, but it’s just that, a myth.

Over time, those gas springs have been mostly eliminated, covered up by progress – houses, farms, and businesses – and most people would not know how we got our name. But, there are still some places where the gas can visibly be found in Gasport.

 
The near-surface pocket of gas is located in an area that begins roughly one block west of the Main Street lift bridge and is within a half-mile of each side of the canal from that point westward to the roughly the border with the Town of Lockport.

Most of the shale structures that allow the gas to reach the surface are buried under the soil, so you would have to search out the small streams, as through the centuries they have cut through the dirt, sediment, and shale and allowed the gas to escape.

As you come upon one of the larger gas leaks the smell is unmistakable. The area around it will smell like rotten eggs. While methane itself has no smell, in the presence of biological agents and sulfur it can create stinky methanethiol which accounts for the stench.

In some streams, the bubbles will be periodic, a series of them coming up for one to two seconds at a time and reoccurring every five to 10 seconds. In other springs which have cut deeper into the shale, the bubbles will be continuous and the water actually appears to boil, and the roiling noise can be quite loud.

When some of these streams dry up in the summer, you can still encounter the gas. Exposed formations of shale will continue to bubble with even the slightest bit of moisture and the ground itself will make hissing and bubbling sounds. These above-ground seepages will leave a white-grey froth.

You can replicate the Eternal Flame here in Gasport. Placing a match over bubbling rocks will create a brief flame as long as the match is held over it. But, if the gas is captured and allowed to concentrate in a defined area rather than immediately escaping to the air, the results are even more impressive. To do so, just place a pipe into the shale around one of the leaks and loosely place a rock over the end of the pipe to allow a small release of the gas. Once you light it, it will stay lit, just as the Eternal Flame does.

 

During an earlier time when itinerant workers or hoboes traveled the Erie Canal towpath to find work on neighboring farms, they would set camp in Gasport to cook over such flames. You can find remnants of those visits as carvings on beech trees.

 

In more recent times, the seeps have caught the attention of scientists studying the chemical outputs and the biome in and around the gas to see what creatures live in them. I have taken scientists from the US, Canada and the United Kingdom to Gasport for studies.

Although the total area in which gas seepages may be found in Gasport is really not that large (four square miles, maybe), it has periodically attracted the attention of some gas companies. On the heels of the fracking boom in Pennsylvania and the hopes that a similar industry is one day allowed in New York’s Southern Tier, companies will occasionally sent letters to local landowners about an exploration lease.

Everyone always says “no”.

Let’s hope it stays that way. Gasport’s gas seepages are unique and fragile, and they offer an interesting link to our geological and historical past.

 

 

From the 22 March 2025 Greater Niagara Newspapers