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

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