September 7

The midmorning skies are sunny, while the air is hot and very humid, with temperatures in the low 80s, as I make my way along the lush banks of Sugar Creek, getting closer to its confluence with the Pine River. Nearby, I spot a half-inch Goldenrod Soldier Beetle perched on a blossom of Canada Thistle. These insects contribute to pollination as they move from flower to flower. Their larvae (stock photo) are predators that live near the ground, feeding on small insects, insect eggs, and other soft-bodied prey. Up ahead, I come upon a one-inch Leaf-footed Bug resting in the tall grass. These insects feed by piercing stems, fruits, seeds, and other plant tissues and sucking out fluids. Neither adults nor nymphs (stock photo) normally bite or sting humans, although some can release an unpleasant odor when disturbed. Exploring the floodplain, I notice stems of Virginia Knotweed, also known as Jumpseed, displaying their reddish fruits. As the fruit matures, tension builds at the joint of the flower stalk. At the slightest touch, the fruit can be catapulted several feet from the stem—hence the common name “jumpseed. Continuing to follow the creek, I spot what appears to be a Great Blue Heron hunting near shore. As I carefully stalk the bird, hoping to get closer for a better photo, I realize it is simply an old tree branch. So much for my expertise at spotting wildlife. Moving away from the creek, my ears pick up the high-pitched whine of cicadas, while my eyes turn to the leaf litter, which consists mostly of Cottonwood leaves. Among them, I spot some bright red haws that have fallen from a nearby Hawthorn tree. Haws are an important food source for birds such as robins, cedar waxwings, and thrushes, as well as for some mammals. Down in the tall grass, I observe a few blossoms of Yellow Toadflax. Native to Europe and Asia, the plant is now common across much of North America, including Michigan. Its flowers have a long nectar spur, making larger bees (stock photo) especially effective pollinators. Its other common name, “butter-and-eggs,” comes from the flower’s two colors—the yellow “butter” surrounding its deeper orange-yellow “egg” center. As I make my way back to the car, I am struck by how much is happening at once. Summer flowers still bloom, insects remain busy, fruits are ripening, and fallen leaves are beginning to gather. Along Sugar Creek, the seasons do not change all at once. Instead, summer and autumn briefly share the landscape, each quietly making room for the other.

In golden fields

Crickets sing

In trembling Aspens

Chickadees cling

In native prairies

Bluestems grow

In vernal ponds

Water is low

Swallows gather

Migrations begin

Cycles of nature

Again and again

 

D. DeGraaf

August 31

The morning temperatures are in the mid-50s under sunny skies as I stand on the steep bank of Sugar Creek and look far to the west. The east branch (stock photo) of the creek flows beneath US 127, merges with the west branch, turns east toward me as the main branch, and then curves south toward Cheesman Road. Walking along the bank, once again a wide, well-developed buffer strip stands out as a good example of how streamside vegetation can help mitigate runoff from adjacent cropland. The grasses and other plants help trap sediment and nutrients before they reach the creek. Exploring the vegetation, I spot several yellow blossoms of Bird’s-foot Trefoil. The plant’s name comes from the way its slender seed pods spread from one point, forming a shape that resembles a bird’s foot (stock photo). Not everything is green. Bright red Virginia creeper leaves are scattered through the grass, another reminder that autumn is approaching. On the far bank, I notice an eight-inch opening to a Woodchuck burrow. A burrow may extend 15–30 feet or more underground and contain several chambers. Continuing south, I pause on the Cheesman Road bridge to notice the creek channel and watch the water flow quietly downstream. Next, I follow a path along the bank that takes me south and then east as the creek passes through a large culvert beneath Begole Road. Turning around, I notice a quarter-inch Spotted Cucumber beetle resting on a thistle blossom. Besides cucumbers, these insects feed on the leaves, flowers, and pollen of crops and wild plants. Their larvae (stock photo) live underground, feeding mainly on the roots of grasses and crops such as corn, which is why they are sometimes called corn rootworms. Nearby, I spot a three-quarter-inch Yellow-collared Scape moth resting on thistle seeds. Its name comes from the distinctive yellow band, or “collar,” just behind its dark head. Unlike many moths, this species is often active during the day. Its caterpillars (stock photo) feed on low-growing plants, especially grasses and sedges. Nearing the car, I listen to the sounds of cicadas. Males produce their calls with special vibrating structures in the abdomen to attract females. These insects are often called dog-day cicadas because their calls are such a familiar sound during the hottest part of summer. Nearby, I spot an adult Monarch butterfly resting among the creek-side grasses—perhaps one of the late-summer generation preparing for the long migration to Mexico. Reaching the car, I am reminded that late summer is a season of overlap. Blossoms remain, insects are active, and the banks are still green, yet red leaves, cool mornings, and a migrating monarch quietly point toward the season to come.

Wildlife wonders

Geese in a flock

Turtles on logs

Lichens on rock

Chicory blue

Aster white

Perching crows

Black as night

Meadow aroma

White sweet clover

Celebrating nature

Summer’s not over

 

D. DeGraaf

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