February 2

Saturday was a good day at Forest Hill for a hike with my dog, Remi. The early morning weather was cloudy with a temperature of 14 degrees and light snow flurries falling in calm air. At the crest of the hill, I gazed west at the landscape where an inch of fresh snow covered the bare ground as warm temperatures and hard rain earlier in the week had melted everything. Descending the hill, I passed Mallard Marsh where five deer took off and headed across the neighbor’s cornfield. I continued through Bobolink Meadow where I spotted a newly dug Vole tunnel. Also, I noticed fresh tracks of a large buck with its splayed hooves and prominent dewclaws. Entering North Woods, I headed west and exited into Succession Field where I was surprised to see some dead leaves still clinging to a White Oak tree. I entered South Woods and walked along the edge of Swanson Swamp where I stopped to view a Downy Woodpecker hammering away on an Aspen tree. Exiting the woods, I headed east, turned north and hiked east along the edge of Willow Wallow. I climbed the west side of Reflection Hill and glanced down at Grebe Pond to reflect on the history of this wetland. Prior to 1983 this low area was indeed a marshy wetland. At that time, Richard Recker who owned the Forest Hill property and farmed it, tiled this section and drained off the water so he could grow crops. In 1995, the Soil Conservation District, who then owned the property, in partnership with the Fish & Wildlife Service broke some tile to restore this wetland. The first attempt only partially filled the area with water. After further investigation, more tiles were discovered and broken. So by 1996 the area filled up completely to form a 3-acre pond. Gradually, the pond evolved into prime habitat for aquatic flora and fauna that we see today. Next, I descended the hill to the south where I saw how the amber tips of willow branches added a colorful hue to the somewhat drab Frog Fen vegetation. I continued past Brady Cemetery and entered Native Grassland where I was pleased to see that the dead prairie grasses sticking up added a golden hue to the stark meadow. I continued north past the barn and arrived at the Classroom Building to view the feeders where I saw a Chickadee eating peanuts and a Goldfinch eating thistle. West of the feeders, I spotted a couple of elliptical Goldenrod galls. Whereas the round gall is made by a fly, this gall is made by a moth. The moth eggs hatch out in the spring and the larva finds a goldenrod and burrows into the stem where it develops during the summer inside the gall. By late summer, the larva tunnels out and changes into an adult moth. Finally, I filled the feeders before we returned to the car and took off for home.

When I tread,
in secret, untrodden snow
with Winter
I shuffle beside the low sun,
through crisp, golden chestnut leaves
of Autumn
and dance with daisies
in the wild meadow
of Summer.
Underfoot,
the birth of Spring
is difficult.

Sally Plumb