Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, June 23, 1990 TAG: 9006260381
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-9 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MONTY S. LEITCH
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
I like watching the comings and goings of critters. I wonder about their lives, the things they eat, the worries that occupy them; and then I write about them.
But as a naturalist, I'm strictly amateur. Every hunter, farmer and birder in the world knows more about deer, groundhogs, turkeys, 'possums, skunks and crows than I.
Which is why my gentlemanly correspondent so often has cause to write. I insist on writing about these things of which I know so little. "A paw may be a foot or a hoof may be a foot," my correspondent noted in November, "but a hoof is never a paw." This, in response to some rascal deer I'd reported on. Now I hear, again regarding deer, that "deer have hair not fur."
My correspondent allows as how this distinction between "hair" and "fur" is a confusing matter, "because there are no rules, there is only rote learning and usage."
He explains that "The angora rabbit has fur, the angora goat has hair . . . The dog, horse, and groundhog have hair but the sheep has wool, which is as thick as fur and nearly as coarse as hair but never described as either hair or fur. The antelope has hair that is hollow like macaroni, most hair is solid like spaghetti." Lucky for me, no antelope live in Floyd County.
But because my correspondent is right - I should take care to be more knowledgeable before spreading my speculations - I've recently undertaken to research a bit before writing about the wildlife. My vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds, though my knowledge is still on the thin side.
For instance, I now know that the plastron is the bottom of a turtle's shell, the carapace his top. I've also discovered that turkeys are gallinaceous birds. That is, they are chicken-like. A characteristic, by the way, with which no one would agree on the third Thursday of November.
Recently I've also learned the distinction between pelagic and benthic creatures. This is not a distinction applied to critters that live in these hills (pelagic animals live in the open ocean, benthic ones skulk along the ocean floor), but I like knowing the words. I discovered them researching sharks.
But there is a problem with all this unguided self-teaching of mine: I'm never quite sure when I've got it right. For instance, in looking about for some turkey facts, I ran across an article on the role terrain plays in habitat. This article contained the wonderfully musical words "talus slopes."
The dictionary describes talus as slopes formed by an accumulation of rock debris, or the rock debris at the base of a cliff. The article only mentions talus slopes - in describing roosts for bobcats, bats, mice, vultures and reptiles - it doesn't define them. So I, the bumbling student, still wouldn't know a talus slope even if I fell down one. Unless, of course, it was teeming with bobcats and bats.
But I'm still searching. Some reference I consult will likely include a picture. Or some kindly correspondent will write and set me straight. In the meantime I've got this exquisite new word, not worth beans on a "Scrabble" board but sweet as a song on the tongue.
by CNB