November 25

The mid morning sky is mostly cloudy and cold with a temperature in the mid 30’s as I make my way around the 5-acre Hiawatha Hills Preserve, west of Mt. Pleasant. Hiking into a leafless wooded landscape, nestled in a residential area on the south bank of the Chippewa River, I’m surrounded by mature maples, oaks and beech mixed in with some patches of snow and ice. A closer view of some of the snow reveals tracks of squirrel and deer. Approaching the river, I spot a Muscle-wood tree still holding its dead leaves along with a cedar snag with an interesting vertical pattern of holes made by Pileated Woodpeckers. At the river’s edge, I pause to watch the water gently flowing through a scenic autumn corridor. Moving along the bank, some bright red fruit catches my eye including a cluster of Jack-in-the-Pulpit berries and a few Barberry berries. Just ahead on the muddy ground, I find some deer scat as well as some Sycamore and Basswood leaves. Nearby, I see a few examples of vegetation still showing chlorophyll including: Woodland Sedges, Periwinkle as well a scattering of Mulberry leaves. Unlike most deciduous tree leaves, these leaves, while still green, often drop in unison, triggered by the first hard frost. Fortunately, recent snowmelt is providing me with some intriguing observations of tiny life forms. First, I spot an array of decomposers living in the crevasses of a decaying log including: moss, lichens and rarely seen but colorful fungi called Purple Jelly Drops. Next, I come across some BB-size decomposers living on a decaying log- the fruiting bodies of Wolf’s Milk slime mold (Toothpaste Slime). Immature forms are pink and excrete a pink toothpaste-like substance when squeezed. When not fruiting, this mold consists of microscopic, amoeba-like organisms engulfing bacteria, spores, protozoa and non-living organic matter. Thirdly, my attention is drawn to some half-inch, delicate Mottlegill Mushrooms. Commonly called the mower's mushroom, this fungus is widely distributed and often found on lawns. Working my way back to the car, I pause to take one last look at the property at the same time being grateful it’s been set-aside as a protected nature area where humans and wildlife can coexist.

Not too far from the hunter’s gun

Run, river run

By light of the moon, light of the sun

Run, river run

Your journey’s not over, only half done

Run, river run

Ice floes have not yet begun

Run, river run

Protecting your water is priority one

Run, Chippewa, run

D. DeGraaf

November 18

Even though there is 5 weeks left before winter begins, already the air is frigid and the ground covered with 5 inches of snow as I begin hiking south into the 200-acre, Alma College Ecological Station, east of Vestaburg. The landscape looks quite different from when I hiked here in the summer of 2015. Turning east, I take in both the scene and solitude of the forest where towering Red Oak trees have surrendered some of their leaves to the path below while others continue to fill the canopy above. Along the way, a rare sighting of Chlorophyll is noted in the leaves of a thorny Greenbrier vine. Further ahead, fresh evidence of a Pileated Woodpecker shredding tree bark in search of insects catches my eye. Turning south, I descend a moderate slope onto a boardwalk, the same one I was on back in 2015. This walkway accesses a unique wetland called a peat bog. The soft, spongy ground under my feet is composed largely of Sphagnum moss. When decayed and compacted this plant is known as peat and is often used for fuel or a soil additive. At the end of the boardwalk, I pause to scan a 20-acre lake from the same vantage point I used back in 2015. This open water feature is also part of the bog ecosystem as it continues to shrink as the moss mat grows out over the edges. Gazing off to the west, I observe a stand of yellow Tamarack trees often seen in peat bogs. Unlike most conifers, the needles of these trees change from green to yellow and soon will fall to earth. On the nearby shore, I see a red colored fruit often associated with bogs, cranberries. This wild fruit has been growing in Great Lakes bogs for thousands of years. During much of that time, Indigenous peoples harvested them for food and medicine. Also, their antioxidant and vitamin C content were helpful in the winter months. Wild cranberries were one of the foods offered to early American colonists by the Wampanoag Tribe, making it part of the Thanksgiving holiday menu as we know it today. Turning around, I begin to retrace my steps while stopping to look and listen to a small creek draining from the bog. Finally, I get back to the car and skid my way back home.

November winds rise

Air temperatures fall

Leafless shrubs short

Naked Aspens tall

Lacey flowers close

Canopy opens wide

Chickadees are seen

Frogs and toads hide

Maple leaves descend

Oak’s cling and hang

Earth ever in balance

Nature’s Yin and Yang

D. DeGraaf

November 11

Under partly cloudy skies and a temperature in the mid 20’s, Larry Keeler, a Lumberjack Park associate, is taking me on a nature hike through part of his 120-acre hunting property, located in eastern Montcalm County. Following a leaf-littered trail through a dense hardwood forest, we pause to notice a recent deer scrape next to a small White Oak tree. After rubbing and licking the overhanging branches, a buck will scrape the ground below and urinate there to mark his scent and claim his territory. Just ahead we watch a sure sign of the season as leaves drop from colorful Beech trees in the understory. Exploring the leaf litter, I find some Club moss, a 1-inch diameter Milk cap Mushroom and a 1-inch diameter brown ball. This sphere, caused by an egg laid by a Cynips wasp, is called an Oak Cherry Gall and contains the grub of the wasp. In late winter the grub will change into a tiny adult wasp (stock photo) and fly off. Continuing our peaceful saunter through his woods, I notice the canopy overhead is wide open in places where maple and aspen have already dropped their leaves compared to the canopy where oaks still hold on to theirs. Veering onto a another trail, we come upon the fresh carcass of a doe. Not seeing any signs of disease or flesh wounds, we cannot determine a cause of death. Just ahead, we pause on the bank of the North Branch of the Pine River as the gentle current transports fallen leaves. Starting about 4 miles northwest of here in Isabella County, this branch of the Pine flows another mile to the southeast where it empties into the main branch, just west of Lumberjack Rd in Gratiot County. After Larry leads me through a Red Pine plantation that he planted many years ago, we stop by one of several flooded vernal ponds where I notice a thin layer of ice covering the surface. Nearby, we pause as snowflakes begin to fall. While circling back toward the truck, I point out to Larry the dainty yellow blossoms emerging from the bare branches of a Witch Hazel tree. After passing his deer blind, we find our way back to his pickup truck and head out.

Predator of night

Dark becomes day

The hunt was hard

Your hunger obey

Picked up a scent

Options to weigh

The kill was quick

Devoured your prey

Found your den

Moon on high

Coyote of the wild

Your time to lie

D. DeGraaf

November 4

Amid mostly cloudy skies and a temperature just above freezing, I’m hiking a wide, groomed trail into Forest Hill Nature Area. Having walked this 90- acre property thousands of times during my 23 years of developing and managing it, I’m glad to see it remains protected land where humans and wildlife interact. Right away, I notice the blossoms of Goldenrod that only a short time ago colored this meadow yellow, have seeded out to a fluffy beige. Not surprisingly, the soft, muddy trail displays several deer tracks as well as a few patches of snow left over from a recent dusting. Turning north, I pass Raspberry leaves that have turned a burgundy red before rounding the corner and pausing to look and listen as a formation of noisy geese fly high overhead. Entering South Woods, I make my way to a favorite spot- the edge of Swanson Swamp where I spent many hours observing wildlife and enjoying the natural quietude. From here, I continue north through the woods where I discover some wrinkled crust orange fungi growing on a decaying birch tree trunk as well as ogee tunnels of ash borer larvae under a decaying ash tree. Leaving the woods, I’m puzzled by a lone Maple tree whose leaves have yet to change color and drop. Making my way west through a corridor of white birch, I then turn north past oaks still holding their leaves before entering North Woods where the once dense canopy is almost leafless. Following the meandering trail eastward past the swollen vernal pond, I notice that many of the small Beech trees retain their leaves, many still green. Out of the woods, I head south to Willow Wallow where a few noisy Mallards take to flight. High and afar, I can barely make out the silhouette of a solitary Starling perched on a leafless branch. Turning east, I circle the top of Reflection Hill and pause to take notice of a tree of ripe crab apples as well as to gaze down on Grebe Pond and the Raske Barn beyond. Continuing east, I come to the edge of the pond where a newly built muskrat lodge catches my eye. Following the trail around the edge of the pond to the north, I spot a few toxic Nightshade berries. Heading south through the native grassland, I am pleased to see a new shelter constructed at the geology station. Ending the hike at my car, I pause to glance south at historic Brady Cemetery and reminisce about the many times I gave tours to school groups.

The stripped and shapely
Maple grieves
The ghosts of her
Departed leaves.

The ground is hard,
As hard as stone.
The year is old,
The birds are flown.

And yet the world,
In its distress,
Displays a certain
Loveliness

John Updike