
Good News and Bad News


LIFE IN THE LOWER SUSQUEHANNA RIVER WATERSHED
A Natural History of Conewago Falls—The Waters of Three Mile Island

While the heat and humidity of early summer blankets the region, Brood XIV Periodical Cicadas are wrapping up their courtship and breeding cycle for 2025. We’ve spent the past week visiting additional sites in and near the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed where their emergence is evident.
We begin in York County just to the west of the river and Conewago Falls in mostly forested terrain located just southeast of Gifford Pinchot State Park. Within this area, often called the Conewago Hills, a very localized population of cicadas could be heard in the woodlands surrounding the scattered homes along Bull Road. Despite the dominant drone of an abundance of singing Pharaoh Periodical Cicadas, we were able to hear and record the courtship song of a small number of the rare Little Seventeen-year Cicadas. Their lawn sprinkler-like pulsating songs help mate-seeking males penetrate the otherwise overwhelming chorus of the Pharaoh cicadas in the area.


From the Conewago Hills we moved northwest into the section of southern Cumberland County known as South Mountain. Here, Pharaoh Periodical Cicadas were widespread in ridgetop forests along the Appalachian Trail, particularly in the area extending from Long Mountain in the east through Mount Holly to forests south of King’s Gap Environmental Education Center in the west.

While on South Mountain, we opted for a side trip into the neighboring Potomac watershed of Frederick County, Maryland, where these hills ascend to greater altitude and are known as the Blue Ridge Mountains, a name that sticks with them all the way through Shenandoah National Park, the Great Smoky Mountains, and to their southern terminus in northwestern Georgia. We found a fragmented emergence of Pharaoh Periodical Cicadas atop the Catoctin Mountain section of the Blue Ridge just above the remains of Catoctin Furnace, again on lands that had been timbered to make charcoal to fuel iron production prior to their protection as vast expanses of forest.


Back in Pennsylvania, we’re on our way to the watersheds of the northernmost tributaries of the lower Susquehanna’s largest tributary, the Juniata River. There, we found Brood XIV cicadas more widespread and in larger numbers than occurred at previous sites. Both Pharaoh and Cassin’s Periodical Cicadas were seen and heard along Jack’s Mountain and the Kishacoquillas Creek north of Lewistown/Burnham in Mifflin County. To the north of the Kishacoquillas Valley and Stone Mountain in northernmost Huntingdon County, the choruses of the two species were again widespread, particularly along the forest edges in Greenwood Furnace State Park, Rothrock State Forest, and adjacent areas of the Standing Stone Creek watershed.





Within the last 48 hours, we visited one last location in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed where Brood XIV Periodical Cicadas have emerged during 2025. In the anthracite coal country of Northumberland County, a flight of Pharaoh Periodical Cicadas is nearing its end. We found them to be quite abundant in forested areas of Zerbe Run between Big and Little Mountains around Trevorton and on the wooded slopes of Mahanoy Mountain south of nearby Shamokin. Line Mountain south of Gowen City had a substantial emergence as well.





To chart our travels, we’ve put together this map plotting the occurrence of significant flights of Periodical Cicadas during the 2025 emergence. Unlike the more densely distributed Brood X cicadas of 2021, the range of Brood XIV insects is noticeably fragmented, even in areas that are forested. We found it interesting how frequently we found Brood XIV cicadas on lands used as sources of lumber to make charcoal for fueling nineteenth-century iron furnace operations.

Well, that’s a wrap. Please don’t forget to check out our new Cicadas page by clicking the “Cicadas” tab at the top of this page. Soon after the Periodical Cicadas are gone, the annual cicadas will be emerging and our page can help you identify the five species found regularly in the lower Susquehanna valley. ‘Til next time, keep buzzing!
With temperatures finally climbing to seasonable levels and with stormy sun filtering through the yellow-brown smoke coming our way courtesy of wildfires in Alberta and other parts of central Canada, we ventured out to see what might be basking in our local star’s refracted rays…












Here at susquehannawildlife.net headquarters, we really enjoy looking back in time at old black-and-white pictures. We even have an old black-and-white television that still operates quite well. But on a nice late-spring day, there’s no sense sitting around looking at that stuff when we could be outside tracking down some sightings of a few wonderful animals.









For many species of terrestrial vertebrates living in the lower Susquehanna valley, it’s time to take refuge in a safe place below ground to enter a winter-long slumber. The numerous frosty nights of the past two weeks have expedited the stragglers’ efforts to find a suitable place to pass our coldest months.


And now, just in time for Halloween, a look at some hibernating species that some of our more squeamish readers consider to be “scary”.
In the mountainous forests of the Ridge and Valley Province, there lives a seldom seen little mouse which, unlike the more familiar species found in the fields, farms, and homes of our valleys and Piedmont, spends almost half the year in true hibernation.

In spring and fall, Eastern (Black) Ratsnakes are frequently seen basking in the sun as they absorb heat and get their metabolism going. During the hottest days of summer, when ambient air temperature is sufficient for their needs, they become nocturnal, hunting mice and other creatures that are also active at night. During October, they make their way back to a winter den where they will remain until March or April.




That’s right, all three of these snakes are known to cohabitate, not just during hibernation, but at other times of the year as well. And you thought they were mean and nasty to anything and everything in their path, didn’t you?
Here in the northeastern United States, fear of indigenous wild snakes is a totally irrational anxiety. It’s a figment of our indoctrination. Their wicked reputation is almost exclusively the result of a never-ending stream of demonizing propaganda from the pulpit, press, parents, panicked, and picture shows. All they want from you and I is to be left alone. Want something to really be afraid of this Halloween? Try domestic dogs. That’s right—the “friendly” pooch. In the United States, they’ll land hundreds of people in the emergency room today. Don’t like that one. How ’bout cars and trucks. They’ll kill and maim people all day long. And don’t forget about sugar. Yes friends, that sweet treat is pure poison that kills all day long. Happy Halloween!
SOURCES
Merritt, Joseph F. 1987. Guide to the Mammals of Pennsylvania. University of Pittsburgh Press. Pittsburgh, PA. pp.230-233.
Shaffer, Larry L. 1991. Pennsylvania Amphibians and Reptiles. Pennsylvania Fish Commission. Harrisburg, PA.


And now, a few words from the old watersnake who happens to live down along the creek where last spring’s Earth Day events were held.

Hey! You! Yeah You! I heard that there won’t be an Earth Day celebration down here this week. What a ssshame!
Remember how much fun we had last year. All those kids ssscrambling down along the creek bank throwing ssstones and ssscreaming and yelling like they’re gonna sssack a city. I ssshould have had the sssense to ssslither away. But no, I just curled up and played it cool. But sssure enough, one of the little brats found me and bellowed out loud enough for the whole countryside to hear, “SSSNAAAAKE!”
Ah nuts. That’s all it took. Here they come. Poking me with a ssstick. Taunting and ssstabbing. Don’t you know that hurts? What did I ever do to you, you rotten little apes? I’m telling ya, I get no respect.
Think that’s bad? It got worse. Don’t you remember? After a dozen of the runny-nosed monsters had me sssurrounded, one of the brain-dead adults yelled, “…it might be poisonous!”
That’s all it took. The ssstones got hurled my way and the poking with a ssstick became beatings. Those rats tried to kill me! On Earth Day! I ssslid into deep water and barely escaped with my life.
Now I want to tell you a few things—let’s get ’em ssstraight right now. I’m not, nor is any other watersnake in the SSSusquehanna valley, poisonous. Ssso don’t go villainizing me and those like me just because you have a monkey-like fear of us and need a sssocially acceptable reason to exercise your murderous instincts. Yeah, we know all about your manly tall tales of conquest that you ssshamelessly tell your friends and family after you kill a sssnake. Wanna be a hero? Then leave us alone! We and all of the native sssnakes of the SSSusquehanna valley, including the venomous copperheads and Timber Rattlesnakes, are minding our own business and just want to be left alone. Get it? Leave us alone! Don’t beat us with a ssshovel, mow over us, drive your car or truck over us, or ssshoot us. We have it bad enough as it is. You already buggered up most of our homes building your roads, houses, and lawns you know—so have a little respect. And one more thing, we don’t want be part of your pet menagerie. There’s no way we’ll “love you” or want anything to do with you, even if you do imprison us and make us sssubmissive to you for food, you sssick fascists. And that goes for you obsessive collector types too. We know you’re hoarding animals like us and calling your cruel little pet penitentiary a “rescue”. Yeah, we’re wise to that con too.

Ssso we’ve heard you won’t be coming down to the creek to terrorize us this year. No Earth Day event, huh. Well good, because I can’t take another Earth Day. Let the sssquirrels and the birds plant the trees, they do a better job than you anyway. Ssstay at home where you belong—watching television or twit-facing your B.F.F. on that magic box you carry around. And if you absolutely feel the urge to be upset by a sssnake in your midst, go visit that neighbor with the “reptile rescue”, I’m sssure he has a cobra or some other non-native sssnake in his collection that really ought to give you worry—especially when it finally escapes that prison.

A moderate breeze from the south placed a headwind into the face of migrants trying to wing their way to winter quarters. The urge to reach their destination overwhelmed any inclination a bird or insect may have had to stay put and try again another day.
Blue Jays were joined by increasing numbers of American Robins crossing the river in small groups to continue their migratory voyages. Killdeer (Charadrius vociferous) and a handful of sandpipers headed down the river route. Other migrants today included a Cooper’s Hawk (Astur cooperii), Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis), and a few Common Mergansers (Mergus merganser), House Finches (Haemorhous mexicanus), and Common Grackles (Quiscalus quiscula).
The afternoon belonged to the insects. The warm wind blew scores of Monarchs toward the north as they persistently flapped on a southwest heading. Many may have actually lost ground today. Painted Lady (Vanessa cardui) and Cloudless Sulphur butterflies were observed battling their way south as well. All three of the common migrating dragonflies were seen: Common Green Darner (Anax junius), Wandering Glider (Pantala flavescens), and Black Saddlebags (Tramea lacerata).
The warm weather and summer breeze are expected to continue as the rain and wind from Hurricane Nate, today striking coastal Alabama and Mississippi, progresses toward the Susquehanna River watershed during the coming forty-eight hours.


