July 13

With temperatures in the mid 70’s under sunny skies and a welcomed westerly breeze, I begin my annual monitoring hike on a 25-acre conservation easement, east of Alma owned by the Chippewa Watershed Conservancy.  Right away, my attention is drawn afar to two Sandhill Cranes, a parents and a colt striding through the meadow foraging for grains, seeds and berries as well as insects, earthworms and frogs. Next, I watch a moth land in the lush grass. Upon closer inspection, I determine it’s a 1-inch Chickweed Geometer. Its common name comes from one of its favorite host plants, Chickweed (stock photo). Further along, I watch a butterfly as it lands and perches in tall grass. Getting closer, I see it’s a Common Wood-Nymph. The circular "eyes" on the wings may startle birds or divert attacks away from the butterfly's body. Veering off the trail and proceeding across a large meadow, I first spot blossoms of Swamp Milkweed and then a 1-inch Calico Pennant dragonfly perched on a seed head. As an excellent aerial hunter, it can capture mosquitoes and tiny flies entirely in flight. Nearby, I come upon a male 1 ½-inch Ruby Meadow Hawk dragonfly. Males become increasingly red as they mature while females are much less conspicuous, usually yellowish-brown instead (stock photo). Continuing to explore the meadow, I observe a 1-inch Delaware Skipper Butterfly perched on a dead flowerhead. This species was first described from specimens collected near the Delaware River, which is how it got its common name. However, it’s not found in Delaware at all but found across much of the eastern and central United States. Hiking east, I come upon a large Milkweed colony comprised of at least 100 healthy plants. This area turns out to be one of the most biologically active places here. It provides nectar for butterflies and dozens of native bee species as well as food for Red Milkweed Beetles. Milkweeds produce sticky latex sap loaded with toxins. This beetle has evolved to tolerate these chemicals and store some of them in its body, making it distasteful to many predators. Birds often learn to avoid insects with these bold color patterns. As I head back to the car, I find myself appreciating not just the individual discoveries but the way they blend into one memorable hike. Observing flowers, insects, grasses and Sand Hill Cranes, reminds me that nature rarely relies on a single grand spectacle. Instead, it quietly gathers many small moments that reward anyone willing to walk slowly, look closely, and let the landscape tell its own story.

 

Height of summer

Nature at her best

Pollinators aplenty

No time to rest

Beetles on blossoms

Monarchs on Milkweeds

Swallowtails on Daisies

Beside the cattail reeds

Finding flowers

Dragonflies perch

Seeking nectar

Bees on a search

 

D. DeGraaf

July 6

The early morning air is hot and muggy with temperatures already in the low 80’s under partly sunny skies and a welcomed southerly breeze, as I find myself on 70-acres of St. Louis School property off Jackson Rd. Established years ago as an over-night camp (Camp Monroe) for disabled students from the GIRESD, it changed to a day camp before closing all together. Noticing a few abandoned buildings nearby, I begin my hike hearing a Field cricket on a groomed trail designated as part of a cross-country racecourse for the school district. Right away, I hear the melodious song of a Rose-breasted Grossbeak perched high in a tree above me.. However, I cannot get a good photo of this colorful bird (stock photo). Along the trail I come upon a large Staghorn Sumac shrub displaying the greenish-tan flower clusters of a male plant. While these flowers will shrivel up and disappear, flowers from a female plant will develop into bright red fruit heads by late summer (stock photo). Scanning the lush vegetation next to the trail, I spot a 2-inch Widow Skimmer Dragonfly. Early naturalists thought their contrasting white and black wing markings resembled the black-and-white mourning clothes worn by widows in Europe during the 18th and 19th centuries, leading to the common name Widow Skimmer. Up ahead, I come upon a Black Walnut tree with its characteristic compound leaves and a single, 1-inch, immature nut. In early summer, it is common for some walnuts to stop developing and fall off due to a natural fruit thinning process. The tree "decides" which nuts it has enough energy to mature and sheds the extras. Turning back toward the car, I’m amazed to see a 12-inch diameter Giant Puffball Mushroom. While it takes about 2 weeks of growth to reach this size, it can expand suddenly overnight after a series of rainy days. Based on its color and texture, this puffball is quite edible especially upon slicing and sautéing it. Approaching the car, I look down in short grass and spot a few blossoms of Heal-All. For centuries this plant has been used to cure or aid the symptoms of almost every possible malady. Common folklore held that it was an herb sent by God to heal any ailment of man or animal. Driving toward home, I feel grateful for completing another nature hike. It reminds me that wonder doesn't fade with a new encounter.  Each walk becomes another quiet lesson that the richest experiences aren't measured by how far from home I travel, but by how fully I notice the remarkable world that has been waiting beside the path all along.

Nature in rhythm

July days ahead

Summer sky blue

Raspberries red

Creatures are born

Consume and grow

Vultures fly high

Frogs lie low

Vernal ponds full

Up to the brim

Neath the surface

Tadpoles swim

 

D. DeGraaf

June 29

On this summer solstice morning, the skies are sunny with temperatures in the low 60’s, as a long-time friend, Jeff Reynolds, our dog Riley and I start hiking through a dense cedar swamp in the Little Sand Bay Nature Preserve on Beaver Island. Reaching the lakeshore, Jeff spots a 1-inch Monarch caterpillar feeding on a Milkweed leaf. About 2-3 weeks from now, it will grow, transform into a sexually active adult butterfly (stock photo) and live 2-6 weeks as part of the summer generation. Although this adult is unlikely to leave the island, its great-grand offspring probably will exit in late August or early September and fly 2000 miles to Mexico, completing one of the most extraordinary migrations in the insect world Continuing along the beach, I notice the shadows cast by Jeff and Riley are the shortest they will be for the next 12 months as the sun reaches its greatest elevation today. Up ahead, I notice some yellow blossoms of Lake Huron Tansy, a rare, fragrant perennial native to Beaver Island. Because of its sensitivity to harsh environments, invasive species, and heavy foot traffic, this species is highly protected. Nearby, I come upon a patch of orangish-colored plants called Indian Paintbrush. These plants cannot survive entirely on their own. They are hemi-parasitic, with their roots producing specialized tubes (stock photo) that tap into neighboring host plant to steal water and vital nutrients. Exploring the back dune, I look down in dense grass where I see a 1½ -inch Northern Crescent Butterfly. Those crescent caterpillars (stock photo) that hatch late in the season hibernate over winter and awaken in the spring to finish feeding. Nearby, I spot a 1½-inch Little Wood-Satyr butterfly resting on a Wild Sarsaparilla leaf.  The small circular eyespots on its wings are there for defensive purposes. They can startle birds or misdirect attacks toward the wing edges instead of the butterfly's head or body, increasing its chance of escaping. These butterflies are not frequent flower visitors. Instead, they feed on tree sap, overripe fruit, fungi, and animal droppings, where they obtain minerals and nutrients that nectar alone doesn't provide. Heading back to the car, I pause to watch a ¼-inch Sweat Bee feeding on a Goat’s Beard blossom. Reaching the trailhead, I realize this morning has given me far more than exercise. Each blossom, butterfly and landscape has become part of a story that could only be written on this particular day. That's the gift Beaver Island offers so generously—it reminds me that nature is never the same twice and that's exactly why I keep returning.

Orb of the heavens

Solstice of June

High in the sky

Long before noon

Shadows are short

Daylight is long

Up in a Maple

A Vireo’s song

Lushness of green

Covers the land

Nature’s crescendo

Summer’s at hand

 

D. DeGraaf

June 22

Under partly cloudy skies, a gusty wind off Lake Michigan and temperatures in the low 60’s, my dog Riley and I leave our rental house on the west side of Beaver Island and I begin our morning hike. Right away, I spot several large vernal pools teeming with thousands of ½ inch American Toad tadpoles. Most of these baby amphibians will be eaten by aquatic insects, fish, salamanders, birds, snakes, and mammals. Others will die from diseases or when vernal pools dry up or overheat. Ultimately, well under 1% of the original tadpoles will reach breeding age as adults (stock photo). Walking along the beach, I’m surrounded by swarms of ½ -inch Midge flies. These clouds of non-biting insects are mating swarms where males gather and dance in the air before females enter. After mating, females return to the water to lay eggs. Adult flies (stock photo) usually live only a few days. Most do not feed at all as their primary purpose is reproduction. Up ahead, I pause to watch five Eastern Swallowtail Butterflies perch on the sand close to each other while fluttering their wings or taking short flights. Called Puddling, males use their proboscises to sip moisture from wet sand, mud, animal tracks, decaying vegetation, or even areas enriched by bird droppings. The water provides sodium and other minerals that are scarce in nectar. Working my way down the beach, I can’t help but notice a variety of large boulders scattered about. Called glacial erratics, these rocks were carried south by glaciers from the ancient Canadian Shield during the last Ice Age. First, I spot a metamorphic rock called Banded Gneiss, then a sedimentary rock call Tufa Limestone and finally, out in the water, I see an igneous rock called Red Granite. Arriving at my destination, called McCauley Point, I pause to honor the life of a dear friend who passed a few years ago and whose ashes are scattered nearby. While scanning the landscape, I spot High Island, 12 miles due west. This 3466 acre land mass is uninhabited and surrounded by sandy beaches, dunes and dense forests. This island was famously home to a "Kingdom of David" Mormon colony in the 1850's and later an extensive King Strang associated settlement, followed by an Israelite House of David agricultural community in the early 1900's. Turning around to retrace my steps, I observe some yellow blossoms, including Hoary Puccoon, Silver Weed and Stonecrop. Nearby, I see both a 16-inch Garter snake barely visible in the tall grass and a Killdeer standing near the water’s edge. Back at the rental house, I pause to reflect on another nature hike. For me, I feel less like a visitor and more like a small part of a much larger story—one that has been unfolding on Beaver Island for thousands of years and will continue long after my footprints have disappeared from the sand.

 

Sandy path along a beach

Butterflies within my reach

Lake water’s cool and clear

Breaking waves I mostly hear

Cirrus clouds, a rising sun

Up ahead, Sandpipers run

Back dune, sedges & ferns

Overhead, gulls & terns

Just another quarter mile

Barefoot on Beaver Isle

 

D. DeGraaf

June 15

The early morning humidity is high under partly sunny skies and temperatures in the upper 60’s as I leave the car to start my hike at Stearns Preserve, a 15-acre parcel in Gratiot County’s village of Riverdale owned by the Chippewa Watershed Conservancy. Exploring the 1-acre meadow on the west boundary, I spot a 1-inch Common Ringlet Butterfly perched on a thistle leaf displaying its grayish underside wing pattern. An orange color and eye spot is revealed with the wings open (stock photo). After about 2 months as caterpillars (stock photo), adult butterflies emerge. Up ahead, I come upon a 1-inch frothy, white glob attached to a thistle stem. This substance is created by immature nymphs (stock photo) blowing air through their waste as they feed on plant sap. In mid-to-late summer, these nymphs mature into winged "froghoppers" (stock photo). Continuing to explore the meadow, I notice large patches of Field Club Moss dotted with white blossoms of Cranesbill (stock photo). Resembling miniature, evergreen conifer trees club mosses are extremely slow-growing and were historically over-harvested for holiday wreaths. Currently, all clubmoss species are legally protected in the state of Michigan. Proceeding east on the Meijer bike trail that bisects the preserve, I notice a tiny yellow blossom of Greater Celandine, a plant that I’ve never seen before. A perennial species in the poppy family, it’s known for its thick, bright yellow-to-orange milky sap- a latex-like fluid that oozes from broken stems, leaves, and roots. While historically used in folk medicine, it is highly toxic and can cause severe skin irritation, blistering, and corneal damage if it comes into contact with the eyes. Ingestion can cause severe gastrointestinal distress, nausea, and vomiting. Up ahead, I spot one of my favorite harbingers of summer-an Ebony Jewelwing Damselfly fluttering by and landing on a Honeysuckle leaf. While the adult is very attractive, the nymph is not so much (stock photo). Turning around at the boundary marker, I head back and pause at, once was a railroad bridge, to watch the water of the Pine River flow south toward Elm Hall, then Sumner before turning toward Alma. Near the car, I spot a 1-inch black Ichneumon Wasp perched on the underside of a Milkweed leaf. As parasitoids, females track down the larvae of wood wasps, beetles, and caterpillars, injecting their eggs directly into the host. When the larvae hatch, they slowly consume the pest host, eventually killing it. As I complete my walk and return to the car, I am grateful for preserves like this. Whether from an asphalt or earthen trail, nature is on display to those willing to slow down, observe and appreciate her handiwork.

A speeding car

Or Killdeer afar

Coo of a dove

Or airplane above

Buzz of bees

Or blower of leaves

Passing cloud

Or yelling loud

Babbling stream

Or sirens scream

Nature’s path of peace

Human noises cease

 

D. DeGraaf

June 8

Under sunny skies and morning temperatures in the low 60’s, I’m at Forest Hill Nature Area walking out on a dock to observe Grebe Pond. Kneeling down, I notice a 1/2 inch, Six-spotted Fishing Spider standing on the water surface, supported by surface tension. These spiders are impressive hunters. They can: Run across the water surface. Detect vibrations from struggling insects and tadpoles. Dive underwater when threatened. Also in this photo there’s a small insect on the water just below the spider, the sort of prey a fishing spider would be watching for. Continuing to examine the weedy pond surface, I notice a mix of Duckweed, Watermeal and Common Bladderwort. While being familiar with Duckweed and Watermeal, I’m not so familiar with Bladderwort which is a native, free-floating, carnivorous aquatic plant. It is completely rootless and features finely divided, submerged leaves lined with tiny, vacuum-sealed bladders that snap open to trap and digest microscopic aquatic insects. Its namesake "bladders" are tiny, modified leaves (stock photo) that act as vacuum traps. When a tiny organism brushes against the hair triggers, the trap springs open—faster than a camera flash—sucking the prey inside to be digested. Back on land, I’m pleased to begin a hike alongside Erika Kemler, the current director and very successful leader of this 90-acre outdoor education center. Walking north on a groomed trail, we take in the sounds of a variety of birds as well as sights of yellow and orange blossoms of Hawkweed. Scanning the meadow nearby, we spot a Tree Swallow perched on a Bluebird box. Swallows arrive in spring about the same time Blue birds do. Unfortunately, they often claim an empty nest box before bluebirds do or chase them away from a chosen box. Entering North Woods we follow an earthen trail through dense stands of Beech, Maple and Oak. Exiting the woods and making our way along the west boundary, we notice a Cottontail Rabbit as well as some yellow blossoms of Barren Strawberry, a plant I’ve never seen before. Continuing through lush South Woods, our ears perk up to a variety of birdsongs, especially the trilly and rattly song of a House Wren. Making our way back to the parking area, Erika and I reflect on the variety of wildlife we found on our hike. The Nature Area offered no dramatic spectacles today, yet the birds, blossoms, pond plants, a spider and rabbit combined to create something equally rewarding—a quiet reminder that nature's greatest gifts are often found in ordinary moments.

Morning in June

Edge of spring

Sun shines bright

Yellow Throats sing

In the meadow

New green shows

Cooling breeze

Comes and goes

Beyond the marsh

An earthen trail

Rarely heard

A Sora Rail

 

D. DeGraaf

June 1

The early morning temperatures are in the upper 50’s under partly sunny skies and a refreshing easterly breeze as I find myself hiking on private property on the southeast bank of the Pine River, between Alma and St. Louis. Up ahead, I look up to see some Silver Maple leaves displaying pencil-lead thin growths called spindle galls. These protrusions are caused my microscopic mites (stock photo) These mites spend the winter under tree bark before emerging in the spring, to feed on new leaves causing them to form the protective gall. These galls are purely cosmetic. Well-established trees are not harmed by them. Along the bank, I spot a lovely stand of Dame’s Rocket blossoms. While this plant produces fragrant, showy pink and white flowers it is highly invasive displacing native flora. Since a single plant can release up to 20,000 seeds, it can rapidly spread. Following an earthen trail, I pause to scan the river's floodplain marsh where I first hear a Song Sparrow and then the distant sound of a solitary Green Frog. Up ahead, I notice the eggshell of a new hatched Mallard chick on the ground while out on the water I see a mother Mallard swimming with three of her chicks. Also, on the water I spot some yellow Waterlilies beginning to bloom. While the steep bank displays a patch of Ostrich Ferns, out on the water, I notice three Canada Geese confronting a Mallard Drake. High overhead, I notice two perching Common Grackles. Breeding male and female Grackles frequently perch together. During the spring courtship and pair-formation phase, established pairs separate from the initial flock to fly, sing, and forage together. Turning around and heading back to the car, my eyes are drawn to a flower cluster from as Horse Chestnut tree. While they’re popular landscape trees, they produce toxic, inedible nuts. Nearby, I observe the leaves and seeds of a highly invasive Norway Maple tree. Widely planted as ornamental trees, they aggressively spread into natural areas, outcompeting native trees like the Sugar Maple by producing dense shade and inhibiting native seed germination. They create a thick canopy that blocks out the sun for understory wildflowers and plants. Their leaves are also largely unpalatable to native insects. Back to the car, I pause and realize spring is pushing forward — blossoms opening, seeds appearing, ferns unfolding and young wildlife beginning their lives along the river. I have the feeling that this stretch of the Pine is not simply a place to walk through, but a living landscape constantly renewing itself with breezes, blooms and birdsongs.

Signs of spring abound

Mother Nature thrives

Frog sits and watches

Duck swims and dives

Nests fill with chicks

Trees fill with green

Warbler on a branch

Heard, seldom seen

Seasons are changing 

Summer comes soon

Farewell to May

Greetings to June

 

D. DeGraaf