In 1951, a young boy was vacationing with his family near Milan, Italy. The boy, George Rau, was a scion of the well-known Lazarus family, which, for generations, ran one of the largest department store chains in Ohio.
Rau became enchanted with the docile lizards that sunned themselves on the rocky walls around Milan, and so he tucked 10 of them into a sock and brought them back to Cincinnati, where he released them in his family’s Torrence Court backyard.
One of the three largest wildlife conservation facilities in North America — The Wilds — is located in the Buckeye State, just south of Cambridge. Now encompassing nearly 10,000 acres, The Wilds was incorporated in 1984 to reclaim surface-mined land, with a mission “to lead and inspire by connecting people and wildlife.”
Many gardeners fill their space with flowers to attract butterflies, but how would you like to have a garden where the complete life cycle takes place? You can grow and raise your own butterflies, from eggs to interesting caterpillars to the beautiful winged creatures. With the right habitat, you can enjoy lepidoptera all season long and even host the same species in your garden year after year.
We’re accustomed to sharing our outdoors with gray squirrels and fox squirrels, but the most common type of squirrel in Ohio is one you’ve probably never seen — the southern flying squirrel. While other squirrels will boldly venture among humans, southern flying squirrels are both shy and nocturnal, making them difficult to spot.
Smaller than gray squirrels, with big, black eyes and a tail that’s flat and furry rather than bushy, the southern flying squirrel has a wide flap of skin from its wrist down to its ankle on each side.
Ask Nancy Stranahan, “What’s the point of preserving plain old woods?” and you’re certain to get an earful.
“I’d say guilty as charged, except for the word ‘plain,'” Stranahan says, explaining that southern Ohio’s hardwood forests are the last best chance to save an ecosystem that has one of the highest levels of biodiversity in the world. “The fact that 100,000 multicellular native organisms are at stake takes ‘plain’ out of the discussion.”
On Thanksgiving Day 2017, an uninvited guest arrived at an Amish farm just a few miles north of Berlin, Ohio — and decided to stay. It was a young snowy owl, and the bird hung around for several weeks, perching atop the peaks of Orris Wengerd’s several barns. It quickly became a celebrity, attracting hundreds of birders and photographers.
If you have a concern for wildlife, it’s easy to get caught up in the plight of current endangered and threatened species — so much so that we sometimes forget to celebrate the victories of those species that have stepped back from the brink of extinction or extirpation.
The return of soaring bald eagles to the skies of Ohio and to the nation as a whole is definitely one of those victories.
Dan and Linda Downs had an easy time scheduling this year’s Christmas open house at Pine Acres Reindeer Farm for Dec. 22 — turns out, it’s the only Saturday before Christmas that their reindeer weren’t already booked. “We’re busy taking reindeer to events throughout Ohio from Thanksgiving through Christmas,” Dan Downs says.
Not many people get excited upon seeing a rat, at least, not in a positive way. But there is a group of folks in southern Ohio who go absolutely giddy when spotting one. They are wildlife researchers, and the object of their ardor is the Allegheny woodrat, a state-endangered species.
I had the opportunity to tag along with this group of dedicated wildlife biologists on a perfect early-fall day. The prior evening, they had set more than 50 live traps in a steep, heavily wooded valley in the sprawling Edge of Appalachia preserve in Adams County, near the Ohio River.
Successful individuals often amass museum-worthy collections reflecting their interests — works of art, luxury cars, fine wines, even historic structures. While Libbey’s glass earnings launched the Toledo Museum of Art and Ford’s automobile funds built Greenfield Village, Pure Oil Company President Beman Dawes pursued a more down-to-earth passion: He collected trees.
