December 31

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi. On this New Year’s Eve morning, the weather was mostly sunny with a temperature of 34 degrees and no wind. Before descending the hill toward Mallard Marsh, I could see that most of the snow melted due to yesterday’s rain. Passing the pond, I noticed some pheasant tracks on the trail. Walking through Bobolink Meadow, I welcomed the crunching sound as I walked over the crystalline snow. At the entrance to North Woods, I saw that the deer had been eating from a small pile of sugar beets we dumped there a few weeks ago. Next, I turned south and followed the trail to a serene Willow Wallow. Continuing around Succession Field, there was suddenly a flurry of bird activity on the edge of North Woods. Crows perched high while Bluebirds, Chickadees and Downy Woodpeckers were flying low. I even got a brief glance at a Pileated Woodpecker. Next, I observed a tree on the edge of North Woods with an unusual shaped trunk. It appeared that earlier in its life a main branch had broken off and regenerated a new limb. I continued around the field and spotted a small pile of trash that had been there for years. The trash included a car tire, some galvanized sheet metal and an old rusty steel bucket. This site is a great visual prop for students to see how humans negatively impact the environment and how man-made products slowly decompose. Walking along the edge of South Woods, I recalled being surprised a few days ago at sighting a large deer lying in the field only 30 ft. away. It remained there as our eyes connected and I sensed that it knew I was a non-threatening observer and not a predator. I arrived at Artist Overlook and paused to gaze at a lifeless Sora Swale. I continued along the south trail, turned north at Frog Fen and climbed to the top of Reflection Hill where I looked over a deserted Grebe Pond. I walked down Reflection Hill and came to the Classroom Building where I noticed lots of Cottontail Rabbit tracks. These animals are active all year long, foraging mainly at night. Contrary to popular belief, they do not dig their own burrows. Instead they use natural cavities excavated by woodchucks or other animals. Brush piles and other areas of cover are often adequate alternatives. Rabbits have very keen sight and hearing. When danger is sensed, they will usually freeze in place. They normally move slowly in short hops or jumps, but when frightened they can run up to 18 mph. and often zigzag to confuse a pursuing predator. Winter is the most critical time period for them. When they have to forage far, they become vulnerable to predation. When snow covers the ground, these mammals become more exposed because they don’t turn white like their larger cousin, the Snowshoe Hare. Finally, my hike was over. With gratitude for another year of memorable hikes, I got in the van and took off for home.

Wide, sparkling fields snow-vestured lie
Beneath a blue, unshadowed sky;
A glistening splendor crowns the woods
And bosky, whistling solitudes;
In hemlock glen and reedy mere
The tang of frost is sharp and clear;
Life hath a jollity and zest,
A poignancy made manifest;
Laughter and courage have their way
At noontide of a winter's day.

Lucy Maud Montgomery s silhouettes

December 24

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.  The midday weather was mostly cloudy with a temperature of 32 degrees and a light wind out of the south. A light dusting of snow covered the ground. As I walked past the storage building, I was pleased to see that a 30 ft. wind turbine and 4x9 ft. solar panel had been installed at the crest of the hill. Also, electrical wire was buried underground to connect them to the Classroom Building. Before descending the hill toward Mallard Marsh, I faced southeast and acknowledged the sun for having reached its solstice a few days ago and for beginning its ascent toward the celestial equator. Walking through Bobolink Meadow, I noticed some pheasant tracks in the snow. I entered North Woods and paused on the long boardwalk where I was pleased to see about a foot of ice-covered water in the vernal pond. I recalled a year ago it was bone dry. Following the trail west, I was surprised to see a large maple tree had fallen just north of the trail. I walked over and estimated the diameter to be 18 inches at the base. I paced off the length to be 50ft. Also, I tried to imagine the loud sound it made as it crashed to the earth. Exiting North Woods, I continued around Succession Field. Hiking through the dense stand of birch trees, I heard a few crows off to the west. I entered South Woods and hiked past Swanson Swamp where I spotted some white bracket fungi growing on a dead aspen tree. Near the exit to the woods, I saw a large, light-colored rock on the forest floor. I got off the trail, walked over, wiped the snow off and decided it was made of fine-grain granite and was about 18 inches wide by 30 inches long. Continuing toward Artist Overlook, I turned north and headed to Willow Wallow. I walked east along the edge of the pond and climbed to the top of Reflection Hill. I hiked down the hill past Frog Fen and headed for Brady Cemetery. Pausing at the entrance to the cemetery, I marveled once again at the majestic White Pine trees. I tried to envision the vast tracts of Michigan that were covered by ancient old-growth forests of these trees. During the 19th century this tree provided the lumber for the building of the Midwest and prairie towns, and frequently was exported to European markets. It was also this tree that rebuilt Chicago after its great fire.By the end of this lumbering boom, logging had stripped 19.5 million acres of these trees, none of which was replanted and has been mostly replaced by beech and maple forests. Next, I passed the cemetery, entered Native Grassland and walked along the edge of Grebe Pond where I saw that about half of the surface was frozen over. Finally, I passed the barn and came to the Classroom Building.  Another hike was finished so I got in the van and took off for home.

On the first day of winter,


the earth awakens to the cold touch of itself.


Snow knows no other recourse except


this falling, this sudden letting go


over the small gnomed bushes, all the emptying trees.


Snow puts beauty back into the withered and malnourished,


into the death-wish of nature and the deliberate way


winter insists on nothing less than deference.


waiting all its life, snow says, "Let me cover you."

Laura Lush

December 17

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.  The early morning weather was mostly cloudy with a temperature of 26 degrees and no wind. Today, I planned to repeat the Reflection hill circuit that I did back in late July when the temperature was in the low 80’s.  I planned to walk slowly around the top of the hill with my binoculars and take in the sights and sounds of mid December while comparing them to last summer. Passing the Classroom Building, I hiked toward Reflection Hill and noticed 4 deer running along the south side of Mallard Marsh heading west. Arriving at the top of the hill, I paused, faced north and noticed the hillside in front of me was brown and bland compared to when the yellow flowers of Sweet Clover were blooming there in July. Many of the Autumn Olives bushes that were growing vigorously back then had been cut down. The surface of Mallard Marsh was visible once again since the dense stand of cattails that surrounded it had died and been leveled by the wind. Walking counterclockwise along the trail, I noticed the Canadian Thistle and Brome Grass that were evident last summer had died back.  Butterflies and dragonflies that were buzzing around me back then were nowhere to be found. Green Herons that often flew over my head from up here had long since migrated south. Looking west, the willows surrounding Willow Wallow were leafless with amber-colored terminal branches compared to their summer green of dense leaves. The silence surrounding me had replaced July’s songs of the Yellowthroat and Robin. Looking south, I noticed there were no longer seed heads of Timothy Grass, Orchard Grass, Rye Grass and Red Fescue that were in great abundance last summer. Far away, the neighbor’s field that was growing soybeans back then was now growing winter wheat. Continuing along, Yellow and Orange Hawkweed flowers that colored the trail back then were conspicuously absent. Looking north, Grebe Pond was quiet and empty compared to the buzz of activity last summer as Tree Swallows swooped to catch insects. The pond surface that was almost completely covered with green duckweed back then was now covered with a thin glaze of ice. The Great Blue Heron that waded in the pond back then was gone, having left to find open water. The water level that had gone down dramatically back then had returned to normal. Further to the north, Native Grassland was brown and barren compared to its summer whitish hue from abundant growth of Queen Anne’s lace. Following the path back to the starting point, I noticed the colorful Chicory and Milkweed blossoms of summer were dead and gone. I walked back down Reflection Hill, crossed the boardwalk and returned to the Classroom Building. Finally, another hike was finished so I got in the van and took off for home.

I love the snow, the crumpling snow

That hangs on everything,

It covers everything below

Like white dove's brooding wing,

A landscape to the aching sight,

A vast expanse of dazzling light.

It is the foliage of the woods

That winters bring—the dress,

White Easter of the year in bud,

That makes the winter Spring.

The frost and snow his posies bring,

Nature's white spurts of the spring.

John Clare

December 10

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.  The mid- morning weather was sunny with a temperature of 20 degrees and a light wind out of the west.  Before descending the hill toward Mallard Marsh, I scanned the landscape to the west where I could easily make out the ever-expanding, golden patches of dormant Reed Canary Grass. This perennial grass is extremely aggressive and forms persistent monocultures in wetland ecosystems. Considered an invasive species, it chokes out native plants and has little value for wildlife. Few animals eat the grass and the stems grow too densely to provide adequate cover for small mammals and waterfowl. Once established, it is difficult to control because it spreads rapidly by rhizomes. Next, I passed the pond and was struck by how the morning sun reflected off the overnight frost as if someone had scattered diamonds in Bobolink Meadow. Continuing through the meadow, I noticed the color beige was dominant due to the tiny, fuzzy seeds of the ubiquitous Goldenrod plant. I turned south at the entrance to North Woods and walked to Willow Wallow. Continuing around Succession Field, I ventured off the trail to see a large, dead, White Birch tree standing up straight with some unusual bracket fungi growing on it. This fungus, called Birch Bracket or Razor Strop, grows almost exclusively on birch trees. Technically, it is an edible mushroom, with a strong, pleasant "mushroomy" odor but a bitter taste. The velvety cut surface of the fruiting body was used as a strop for finishing the finest of edges on razors. Also, imbedded in the ground nearby was a dark rock about 30 in. X 24 in. with some unusual surface features. It appeared to be quartz-infused Metagraywacke that had weathered in such a way that the non-quartz areas had worn down, leaving straight, protruding ridges where the resistant quartz was located. Next, I returned to the trail and paused at Artist Overlook where I noticed a pair of Eastern Bluebirds hovering around a dead tree in Sora Swale. I hiked along the south trail and turned south at Frog Fen toward Brady Cemetery. I passed the cemetery and entered Native Grassland where I looked to the east and observed a dozen tall, dead flower stalks of Common Mullein sticking up like cattails. Near the ground were cream-colored dried Aster flowers and gray flower heads of Black-eyed Susans. I walked along and saw how the sunlight reflected off the clear ice layer on Grebe Pond. Finally, I passed the red barn and Classroom Building, got in the van and took off for home.

When winter winds are piercing chill,

And through the hawthorn blows the gale,

With solemn feet I tread the hill,

That overbrows the lonely vale.

O'er the bare upland, and away

Through the long reach of desert woods,

The embracing sunbeams chastely play,

And gladden these deep solitudes.

Where, twisted round the barren oak,

The summer vine in beauty clung,

And summer winds the stillness broke,

The crystal icicle is hung.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

December 3

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi. It was nice to be back in familiar surroundings after a 2-week absence due to deer hunting season. The early morning weather was drizzly with a temperature of 34 degrees and a slight wind out of the south. Before descending the hill toward Mallard Marsh, I paused and gazed west to admire the ever-changing landscape. Mother Nature’s colors for this early December scene included black, brown, beige and golden yellow. All tinted with a thin layer of snow that fell yesterday morning. Starting my hike, I was pleased to observe the first set of tracks for the winter belonging to a Cottontail rabbit. I walked through Bobolink Meadow where I spotted a Cooper’s hawk perch high in a tree in North Woods. As I approached, it took off and flew south over Willow Wallow and landed in a tree in South Woods. Also, the slate, gray color of dried Milkweed pods caught my eye. I entered North Woods and immediately recognized the squawk of a Downy Woodpecker. I followed the sound until I saw the bird clinging to a tree trunk. Moving along the trail, I observed 3 deer running west as their white tails bobbed up and down. I exited North Woods and continued around Succession Field where I spotted a few deer tracks on the trail. Before entering South Woods, I noticed off to my right a downed White Birch tree with white, bracket fungi growing on it. Next, I entered the woods and hiked past Swanson Swamp where I spotted a decaying log with some green Turkey Tail Fungus growing on it. The green color is caused by an epiphytic green alga. The alga has a commensal relationship with the fungus, deriving no nutrients from it, but instead using the fungus to gain a better position in the environment, in this case for better photosynthesis. I exited South Woods and continued on to Artist Overlook where the serenity of Sora Swale was broken by the drone of a plane passing overhead. I continued along the south trail only to see the striking red terminal twigs of Dogwood shrubs; exposed since the berries were all eaten by wildlife. I turned at Frog Fen and started walking up Reflection Hill where I noticed in the distance a small leafless tree with yellow fruit on it.  Upon closer inspection, I could see the 1-inch diameter fruit was attached to a Golden Hornet Crabapple tree. From the top of the hill, I was surprised to count 7 muskrat lodges scattered around the perimeter of Grebe Pond. Finally, I came to the Classroom Building and was pleased to see the bird feeders were installed. As I hopped in the van to head home, I regretted being away from this place so long but rejoiced in our return.

Crispy chimes of Autumn, spread out upon natures floor.

The falling greens of spring and summer, now taking on a brown like decor.

Bare bodies stand naked, their bones clanging in the wind.

Hoping to soon be reclothed, by winters cool new offerings.

Robert M. Hensel

November 26

Saturday would have been a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi.

However, due to the continuing deer-hunting season, I again stayed in Alma and hiked through Pine River Park. The early morning weather was mostly cloudy with a temperature of 48 degrees and no wind. I left the van and was immediately greeted by a large flock of noisy geese flying west over the river and a small flock of Ring-billed Gulls flying east underneath them. From the boat launch, I again headed west along the riverbank on a paved path where I noticed a few Dark-eyed Juncos fluttering in the underbrush. I paused on a large deck over looking the river and saw a pair of swans swimming gracefully nearby. Next, I turned south and walked through the same woodlot I visited last week. Near the entrance to Conservation Park, I noticed a few White Spruce and Juniper trees. I headed south on a dirt road and found the entrance to a different off-road bike trail from the one I was on last week. I stopped and observed several large trees lying on the forest floor. A sign nearby stated that these trees had blown down during the great windstorm of 1998. I followed that trail west as it snaked through a grove of huge Beech, Maple, Oak and Cherry trees where I noticed a few Fox Squirrels. I continued along the convoluted trail and spotted a few dead Ash trees whose bark had been stripped away by the Emerald Ash Borer. Also, I was surprised to spot three, 2-inch long, brown Garden Slugs crawling slowly across the path. Slugs are hermaphrodites, possessing both male and female reproductive organs. An individual may start out as a male, become both male and female, and finally become solely female. Certain species may even self-fertilize, producing viable offspring without mating. Next, I came out behind the Girl Scout cabin where I heard a few crows in the distance. Walking past the cabin, I saw a stand of leafless Staghorn Sumac with their reddish brown cone-shaped fruit. I turned north on the same dirt road that I was on earlier where I recalled a few days ago seeing and hearing the elusive Pileated Woodpecker. I followed the road for about 100 yards and turned east on a paved road that was closed for the winter. I walked past Blue Spruce, Norway Spruce, Red Pine and a cluster of rustic benches known as the Eyer Learning Circle. The late Les Eyer was a long-time Alma College biology professor and an avid naturalist. Next, I followed the road as it curved back toward the river where I observed a patch of golden Foxtail Grass and some pale green Velvetleaf. I returned to the path on the riverbank that I started on and noticed some sickly looking Black Spruce. Also, I was surprised to see Dandelion blossoms mixed in with the green lawn. While retracing my steps back to the boat launch, I saw some Mallards swimming near the shore. Finally, I got in the van, drove past the State Street Dam and turned for home.

This is the treacherous month when autumn days

With summer's voice come bearing summer's gifts.

Beguiled, the pale down-trodden aster lifts

Her head and blooms again. The soft, warm haze

Makes moist once more the sere and dusty ways,

And, creeping through where dead leaves lie in drifts,

The violet returns. Snow noiseless sifts

Ere night, an icy shroud, which morning's rays

Wildly shine upon and slowly melt,

Too late to bid the violet live again.

The treachery, at last, too late, is plain;

Bare are the places where the sweet flowers dwelt.

What joy sufficient hath November felt?

What profit from the violet's day of pain?

Helen Hunt Jackson