August 24

The early morning skies are overcast with temperatures in the low 60’s and a slight SW breeze as I continue my quest to explore Gratiot County’s Sugar Creek from source to mouth. Today, I start out by watching its water flow slowly under M-46 near Petticoat Junction and head south toward the Pine River confluence. This watercourse probably got its name because sugar maples—and perhaps maple-sugaring camps or “sugar bushes”—were common in the area. Also, this part of mid-Michigan is where early settlers encountered extensive hardwood forests and maple sugaring was already practiced by Native peoples long before European settlement. Right away, I realize the creek is part of the county drain system cutting through acres of ripening soybeans. Walking along its banks, I’m pleased to observe a very wide buffer strip containing a variety of wildlife, including this well- camouflaged Red-legged grasshopper. Blossoms that catch my eye include yellow Flat- topped Goldenrod and pale purple Field Mint whose leaves smell strongly of mint when crushed because they contain menthol-related compounds. Continuing to walk through the buffer strip, I spot a large patch of Queen Anne’s Lace. So, I stop, open up the folded umbels of one of the flowers to reveal a dotted, ½ inch Carrot Seed Moth caterpillar. These invasive caterpillars feed on developing flowers and seeds rather the leaves. Other plants they feed on, include parsley, dill, fennel, and parsnip. Continuing south along the steep bank, I watch the creek water trickle downstream while listening to a chorus of katydids. A little further, I gaze afar where the creek flows under the busy US 127 interstate highway. Turning around, I come upon a bunch gall on top of a Canadian Goldenrod stem. A gall forms when a tiny fly, midge or mite interferes with normal plant growth. Instead of producing a normal flower cluster, the leaves and buds become crowded into a tight rosette. Galls usually don’t seriously harm the plant as it often continues growing and flowering normally on other stems. Heading back to the car, I’m reminded that this small stream winds through a landscape heavily influenced by people. Still, there is plenty of wildness here. Grasshoppers leap, caterpillars hide and goldenrod spread their yellow blossoms quietly announces the approaching change of seasons. Sugar Creek may flow through farm country and within earshot of traffic, but along its lush green banks, nature continues to find room to flourish.

Nature's saga

Milkweed leaf

Tiny white egg

Stage is brief

Caterpillar's born

Yellow & black

Chrysalis next

No turning back

Orange emerges

Wings will dry

Monarch of summer

Ready to fly

 

D. DeGraaf

August 17

 

The early morning temperatures are in the low 60’s under overcast skies as I set out for a nature walk on the paved Cedar Creek trail near my daughter’s house in Sherwood, Oregon. Right away, I notice how peaceful my surroundings are, with a densely populated neighborhood waking up on one side of the trail and a protected riparian landscape for wildlife on the other. From the trail, I can see a pond covered with a thick mat of aquatic weeds; however, the slow trickle of creek water at the bottom of a steep ravine is well hidden by dense vegetation. Looking skyward, I get a quick glimpse of a Steller’s Jay (stock photo) and a few Black-capped Chickadees fluttering through a thicket. Some of the plants along the way are unfamiliar compared with those I regularly encounter in Michigan. One of the most impressive is a Bigleaf Maple tree. Its enormous leaves immediately catch my attention, and the paired samaras help confirm its identity. Closer to eye level, there are other unfamiliar species that catch my attention, including the bright white fruit of a Snowberry shrub and the bright red hips of Nootka rose that both stand out against green foliage. Also, I spot the pink blossoms of Fireweed, a plant often found on recently burned or disturbed ground—hence its name. Familiar Queen Anne’s Lace appears along the trail, and inside a folded umbel, I discover a tiny Asian Lady Beetle. This insect was introduced from Asia to North America to help control aphids and other crop pests. Turning around and heading back through this corridor of lush green vegetation, I come upon a familiar sight- a bumblebee feeding on blossoms of St. John’s wort. The plant name comes from its traditional association with St. John the Baptist. The plant often begins flowering around June 24, the Feast of St. John the Baptist in Europe. Near the end, I come upon an unfamiliar sight- vines of Himalayan blackberries. Despite the name, they’re not from the Himalayas, but from western Europe and were introduced to North America in the late 1800s. In Oregon and much of the Pacific Northwest, this plant is considered highly invasive, even though its berries are delicious and valuable to wildlife. Pausing at the trailhead, I realize that walking in a new landscape like this changes the way I look at nature. I couldn’t rely entirely on familiarity today. Instead, I had to stop, photograph, question, and look more closely. Perhaps that is one of the pleasures of exploring somewhere new: for a few hours, even an ordinary trail can make me a beginner again.

A hike to wonder, pause, and see
Quiet trail before my eyes
A perching bird, a buzzing bee
Waking earth and morning skies

Mother Nature’s handiwork
Unfamiliar shrubs and trees
Pink blossoms and white berries
Soft needles and giant leaves

Path through a corridor of green
No creek to cross, no hill to climb
My senses open to it all
Slow my steps and take my time

 

D. DeGraaf

Early morning skies are overcast with temperatures in the upper 60’s and a slight southerly breeze as I stand on Madison Rd. and look north at a portion of Sugar Creek whose channel had been straightened and incorporated into the county drain system to prevent flooding of cropland. The first thing I notice is how narrow the strip of vegetation is between the creek ditch and the cropland. Wider ones capture more runoff, remove more nutrients, reduce flooding impacts, and support a greater diversity of wildlife. Nearby, I spot a female Clouded Sulfur butterfly perched on a blade of grass. While females have paler yellow wings with lighter spotting, males are bright lemon-yellow with a bold black border around their wings (stock photo).. Up ahead, I come upon a large patch of Chicory blossoms. These blue flowers usually open shortly after sunrise and often close by early afternoon, especially on hot, sunny days. On overcast days like today, they may remain open longer. Before getting back in the car, I pause below a powerline to listen to the lovely song of an Indigo Bunting. Driving a short distance south on Begole Rd., I enter private property to observe the slow moving creek and listen to the continual high-pitch chorus of Katydids. At my feet, I watch what I thought was tiny white moth landing in the underbrush. Upon a closer look, I realize it’s a ¼ inch Flatid Planthopper, a species I’ve never seen before. These tiny insects feed on plant sap using piercing mouthparts, much like aphids and leafhoppers. Their nymphs produce fluffy white wax, making them look like little cottony tufts (stock photo). Overhead, I notice the ripening fruit on a Mulberry tree. More than 40 species of birds—including Robins, Catbirds, Waxwings and Baltimore Orioles—eat mulberries. Mammals such as raccoons, squirrels, foxes, and opossums also enjoy the fruit. For humans, ripe mulberries can be eaten fresh or used in pies, jams, and wines. From here, I drive a short distance south to observe the creek as it slowly flows along the eastside of the parking lot of the Petticoat Junction restaurant. Right away, I spot a drain pipe entering the ditch from the restaurant area, making me wonder about quality of the runoff water. On the opposite bank, I’m surprised to see a small feed lot occupied by a few cows and wonder what happens to their manure.. Finally, I watch the creek water as it passes under M-46 and heads south and east becoming another county drain. Back at my car, I’m reminded that even small creeks deserve our curiosity, our respect, and our care. Every visit deepens my appreciation for this overlooked watercourse. I’m already wondering what discoveries Sugar Creek will offer the next time.

Watercourse

Hidden from view

Gathering runoff

Toxic stew

Polluted water

Human curse

Downstream

Getting worse

Creek’s mouth

End of the line

Merging and mixing

With the River Pine

D. DeGraaf 

August 3

The early morning air is still with temperatures in the low 70’s under partly sunny skies as I stand on Grafton Rd, in northern Gratiot County listening to the “chips” of several Redwing Blackbirds and one Catbird while looking east at a drainage ditch choked with lush vegetation that hides a small stream of water that is the source of the east branch of Sugar Creek. For the next few weeks, I plan to follow first the east branch, then the west branch and then the main branch as empties into the Pine River, east of Alma. Turning around on the road and looking west, I do see some creek water flowing ever so slowly downstream. Tracing the channel along a steep bank it was rare to see any open water. Up in a mixture of green foliage, I spot the remains of a silky web constructed by Fall Webworms. Unlike Eastern Tent caterpillars, which construct their tents in branch crotches during spring, these caterpillars (stock photo) spin these webs around the ends of branches enclosing both leaves and the caterpillars as they feed. Up ahead, I notice several blossoms of Sow Thistle. When a stem or leaf of this plant is broken, it releases a white, milky latex (stock photo). The name "sow thistle" comes from the old belief that feeding the plant to sows (female pigs) increased their milk production. Veering away from the creek, I enjoy the distinctive song of a Yellowthroat while down in the underbrush, I can barely make out a 2-inch Carolina Grasshopper. Although it's superbly camouflaged when resting, it reveals striking black hindwings when it takes flight. The sudden flash can startle predators before the insect disappears into the grass again. Reaching Jefferson Rd, I notice the water of Sugar creek flowing slowly underneath. From here, I scan the landscape to observe three species of plants with a lot in common. First, on the steep bank, I see a stand of Purple Loosestrife. On the far bank, I spot some Common Teasel and beside me some Spotted Knapweed. Beside their attractive pinkish blossoms, all three are nonnative, invasive species from Europe that are known to crowd out native species and damage habitats. On the other hand, their blossoms are rich in nectar and attract a wide variety of pollinators. So are these invasives villains or do they contribute to the wellbeing of this riparian ecosystem. Nature is rarely black and white. Driving home, I realize the calendar may say August but nature is already preparing for what comes next. Every one of my hikes offers more signs of this slow transition from season to season and I'm grateful to be a witness these changes. 

Manure that smells

Lagoons that leak

Onward you flow

Sugar Creek

Banks that erode

Waters that reek

Onward you flow

Sugar Creek

Healthy watercourse

Is what we seek

Onward you flow

Sugar Creek

D. DeGraaf

July 27

The midmorning skies are mostly sunny with temperatures pushing 80 degrees and a noticeable breeze from the west as I find myself at the Chippewa Watershed Conservancy’s Lake Steven Preserve. This 1-acre parcel is on the west shore of 25-acre Lake Steven, located in Montcalm County. Entering the first section, a small meadow, my eyes follow a small butterfly as it lands in the undergrowth. Getting closer, I see it’s a black and orange Pearl Crescent, opening its wings. This butterfly gets its name from a tiny, pale, crescent-shaped mark on the underside of its hindwing. (stock photo). Not too far away, I track a small moth as it lands.  Getting closer, I see a moth that I’ve never seen before, a 1-inch V-shaped Angel Shade moth. This one is famous for its remarkable camouflage. With its wings folded, it resembles a dried, curled leaf (stock photo). Next, I enter a wooded section of the preserve consisting of mature maples, hickory and white birch. Along the way, my attention is drawn to a tiny, 1/8 inch juvenile Harvestman scavenging, smelling, and feeling its way around a leaf with its elongated appendages.  Juvenile Harvestmen resemble miniature versions of the adults rather than going through a caterpillar- or larva-like stage. Nearby, on the frond of a Sensitive fern, I observe two Craneflies joined end-to-end while mating.  These adults live only a few days. After mating the male dies immediately while the female will die shortly after depositing her eggs. On the ground, I notice decaying birch bark filled with orderly holes once drilled by a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (stock photo) to feed on tree sap. Reaching the shore of Lake Steven, I look around to see a body of water choked with Lily pads as well as 3 perching Great Blue Herons searching for a meal. Their eyes are specially adapted for hunting in bright sunlight and around water. They can accurately judge the position of prey even through the distortion caused by the water's surface. Down at my feet, I notice an old 5-inch empty shell of a Painted Turtle. When alive, these reptile’s neck and legs are decorated with vivid yellow and red stripes, giving them their "painted" appearance (stock photo). Returning to the car, I realize this experience has offered far more than a list of species to record. I’m reminded once again that nature doesn't demand my attention with grand spectacles during every hike. Instead, it quietly rewards me for slowing down, looking a little closer, and remaining curious. It provides small gifts that transform an ordinary summer afternoon into something memorable. 

Peaceful forest

A motor ran

Sounds of nature

Sounds of man

Scent of Milkweed

Trash in the can

Smells of nature

Smells of man

Cardinal flower

A beat up van

Sights of nature

Sights of man

 

D. DeGraaf

July 20

The early morning skies are sunny with temperatures in the mid 70’s and a refreshing breeze at my back as begin my annual monitoring hike of a 37-acre conservation easement east of Alma under the jurisdiction of the Chippewa Watershed Conservancy. Soon, I come upon a ¼ inch Flea beetle resting on the receptacle of an Oxeye Daisy. These insects have enlarged hind legs that allow them to leap like fleas when disturbed. Up ahead, I pause by one of the many ponds on the property where the breeze sways a stand of Reed Canary grass while a few Redwing Blackbirds make their “check” calls upon my presents. Nearby, I spot a 1-inch Cherry-faced Meadow-hawk dragonfly perched on a blade of grass. Both the aquatic nymphs and the flying adults are voracious predators. Throughout their life cycle, these dragonflies consumes large numbers of mosquitoes and other nuisance insects, making them beneficial to people and ecosystems alike. Up ahead, I pause to observe a 1-inch female Eastern Forktail damselfly clinging to a stem. Unlike the bright blue-and-green males (stock photo), a female like this one displays a blend of colors. After mating, the male often remains attached to the female in the characteristic "tandem" position (stock photo) while she deposits eggs. This behavior helps prevent rival males from mating with her before egg-laying is complete. Looking down, my eyes are drawn to a 1-inch Familiar Bluet damselfly. Adults feed on tiny flying insects such as mosquitoes, midges, and gnats. Females lay eggs in aquatic vegetation, where the aquatic nymph (stock photo) develops before emerging as an adult. Next, I come upon the tiny nymph of a Red-legged Grasshopper perched on a Milkweed leaf. Nymphs pass through five or six molts, shedding their exoskeleton as they grow. Adults (stock photo) developed wings allowing them to fly and disperse. On the ground, I notice the purple bell flowers of Hairy Vetch. This plant is native to Europe and western Asia but has become widespread across North America. Farmers often plant it as a cover crop because it fixes nitrogen in the soil, improving fertility. Turning back toward the car, I gaze up at a blue sky while listening to the melodious song of a seldom-seen Warbling Vireo (stock photo). By the time I get to the car, I realize that this walk was much more than identifying flowers and insects. It is a reminder that every stage of summer has its own story—from fresh blossoms to birdsongs, from young grasshoppers beginning life to dragonflies patrolling the wetlands. On mornings like this, all I have to do is follow the trail, slow my pace, and let nature reveal another chapter of its ever-changing season.

In the depths of summer

Senses reach their peak

Taste of a milkweed pod

Sound of a flowing creek

From the forest glade

Smell of a Yarrow leaf

Touch of a thistle thorn

Glimpse of a finch is brief

Nature in her prime

Sources all around

From the clear blue sky

To the verdant ground

 

D. DeGraaf

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