February 25

Wednesday, leaving Remi at home, I returned to Pine River Park in Alma, to a trail we’ve hiked dozens of times. Before setting out, I decided to contrast the conditions today with what they were like when I hiked here back on June 9th of 2014. The early morning weather was sunny with a temperature of -2 degrees and no wind, compared to then when it was also sunny but with a temperature of 68 degrees along with a refreshing breeze out of the east. Leaving the warmth of the car, I noticed the dock at the boat launch was sealed by river ice compared to quite a different scene from before. Turning west, I trudged through snowdrifts covering the trail with vivid memories of this same landscape last June. Further ahead, I paused at a scenic spot on the riverbank and thought about how this vista had changed since then. Turning south away from the river, I hiked through a stark woodlot and compared it to the lush landscape of last summer. Next, I paused to scan the forest and hear its silence. Turning east toward the rising sun, I walked through a stand of evergreens and remembered this place from last June. Curving north to complete the loop, I picked up the distinctive call of a Cardinal from high up in an Aspen tree. Considered an early sign of spring, I’ve heard this song occasionally for the past month or so. Sensing an increase in daylight, this bird’s hormone level increases, stimulating it to sing, both to find a mate and announce its territory. After searching high in the branches for a few minutes, I finally spotted a bright red male who was doing the singing. Unlike most songbirds, the female Cardinal also performs this ritual. Finally, I retraced my steps back to the car and headed home.

Old man winter tightens his grip

Wind chills continue to dip

Creatures of the wild hunker down

In a frozen forest, there’s no sound

River life has been put on hold

Blanket of snow shields the cold

Birds fly around looking for seed

Keeping warm is what they need

February days are near the end

Spring is just around the bend

D. DeGraaf

February 17

Tuesday, I drove 8 miles west of Alma and hiked at Lumberjack Park. The early morning weather was partly sunny with a temperature of 7 degrees and no wind. Leaving the car, I headed east though a woodlot where the rising sun shown through the leafless canopy and numerous squirrel tracks crisscrossed the forest floor, covered with 6 inches of snow. Once in awhile, I spotted holes where these forest creatures exposed their food cache. Curving around to the north, I headed toward the Pine River where I noticed the snow was peppered with tiny seedpods. Upon further investigation, I decided they were from surrounding Witch Hazel trees, an unusual plant that produces flowers and seeds in the winter. Next, I paused on the riverbank to take in the stark beauty of the landscape. Continuing the hike, I spotted a carving on the trunk of a mature Beech tree that seemed appropriate only a few days removed from Valentines Day. Turning south, I followed the frozen river where I spotted a Downy Woodpecker and a few Chickadees moving through the leafless trees. Up ahead, I stopped at one of many mature White Pine trees, looked up to see its silhouette against a blue sky and looked down to see its trunk marked with several vertical Pileated Woodpecker holes. Turning around, I began retracing my steps when I stepped off the trail to follow weasel tracks to its den and scat. Continuing west on a yet-unused trail that displayed parallel tree trunk shadows, I made it back to the car and took off for home.

February in the forest

These are the facts

Creatures on the move

Tales of the tracks

Hidden by the night

Squirrels far and near

Seeking food to eat

Showing little fear

Keen sense of smell

Scraping deep snow

Digging through litter

Acorns finally show

D. DeGraaf

February 11

Wednesday, I hiked alone at Forest Hill Nature Area. The early morning weather was cloudy with freezing mist, a temperature of 19 degrees and a steady breeze out of the southwest. At the crest of Energy Hill, I gazed west at a typical, stark mid-winter landscape. I descended the hill, walked onto the ice of Mallard Marsh and decided it was solid enough to do my annual hike into all our wetlands for a closer look. Heading south on the snow-covered pond, I passed one muskrat lodge and discovered another one hidden near the south end. I circled back to the main trail and turned west through Bobolink Meadow toward North Woods where I spotted a lone Whitetail far the distance. Trudging along the trail through the woods, I noticed the large vernal pond was well hidden by ice and snow. Next to a snow tunnel under he boardwalk, I spotted my first Opossum tracks of the winter. Exiting the woods into Succession field, I paused to scan my surroundings and listen to a howling wind accompanied by a cawing crow. Turning east, I came to Willow Wallow, stepped out on the ice and headed south across the pond where I noticed a few Nuthatches fluttering and perching as I made my way through a dense stand of Willow and Cottonwood. Continuing south, I crossed the ice of Sora Swale passing many protruding willow branches that turtles use in the summer for basking. Turning east, I followed south trail to Frog Fen and continued due east through the dense willow thicket where I noticed a few depressions in the snow made by lying deer. Continuing east, I walked past a snow-covered, Palmer’s Rock Garden. Turning north, I walked out on the ice of Grebe Pond and followed the west shore while glancing up to Reflection Hill. Tucked into the stand of Phragmites on the northwest corner was another Muskrat lodge. Turning east, I came to the classroom where the bird feeders were occupied by Finches, Juncos and Sparrows. Finally, I returned to the car and headed home.

Nature still in hiding
Green yet to show
Drifts remain high
Daylight hours grow
Cedar for the buck
Acorns for the doe
Sound breaks silence
Call of a distant crow
Voles scurry about
Tunnel under snow
Winter holds on tight
Another month or so

D. DeGraaf

February 3

Tuesday, while Remi continued his convalescence at home, I traveled 9 miles west of Mt. Pleasant on Pickard Rd. and hiked at Sylvan Solace, a 78-acre property of the Chippewa Watershed Conservancy. The early morning weather was mostly sunny with a temperature of 10 degrees and no wind. From the parking lot, I headed south on a path covered with 5-6 inches of powdery snow that had fallen yesterday. This scene reminded me of yesterday while schools were closed and my wife and I were home admiring the white stuff blanketing the yard when she caught me off guard with her science question, “Why is snow white?” So with Google’s help, I found out that snow is a whole bunch of individual ice crystals arranged together. When light enters a layer of snow, it goes through an ice crystal on the top, which changes its direction slightly and sends it on to a new ice crystal, which does the same thing. Basically, all the crystals bounce the light all around so that it comes right back out of the snow pile. It does the same thing to all the different light frequencies so all colors of light are bounced back out. The "color" of all the frequencies in the visible spectrum combined in equal measure is white, so this is the color we see in snow, while it's not the color we see in the individual ice crystals that form snow. Next, I turned west and followed the River Loop trail as the morning sun shown through a dense stand of Aspen, Oak and Maple. Fresh deer tracks were evident all around. Arriving at the banks of the Chippewa River, I paused to admire the quiet, picturesque winter scene as the current moved thin pieces of ice downstream. The path went south on a bluff above the river and then turned northeast back into the barren woods where I was startled by a pair of wild turkey that suddenly flew noisily from their perch in a tree high above me. Having nearly completed the loop, I came across a single set of large tracks just off the trail that puzzled me since there were no others nearby. After stepping back and looking around, I found similar tracks in a line 12-15 feet apart and determined it was from a full grown deer that was running fast to escape something while making significant leaps (adult deer are capable of leaps twice that long). Finally, I retraced my steps north toward the light at the end of the tunnel of evergreens to the car and took off for home.

Waters of life

Nourishes earth

Flows in her veins

River of worth

Wonder of nature

Beauty to inspire

Clean and clear

River I admire

More than a stream

More than a creek

Cherish the Chippewa

A river unique

D. DeGraaf