October 26

Since last week’s Pine River encounter in Mecosta County’s village of Millbrook, I move about 2 miles northwest to find the river (left fork) flowing under 7-mile Rd. while converging with an unnamed stream (right fork). Under overcast skies, temperatures in the upper 40’s and a gusty west wind, I notice, as I get closer to its source, the river channel, that once was deep and wide, is shallow and only about 10 feet wide. Working my way along the west bank, I spot the leafless, burgundy branches of a Red Osier Dogwood shrub as well as the male catkins hanging from a Tag Alder tree. Further along, I observe a stand of dying Joe-pye weed whose flowers have gone to seed. In addition, my attention is drawn to a Nightshade vine with a few red berries and leaves with holes. The size and shape of these holes indicates prior feeding by a tiny insect that favors this plant -a 2 mm weevil (stock photo). Pausing at the river’s edge, I take in the sounds of flowing water and cawing crows. Turning around and making my way back to the road, I notice a Goldenrod stem with two fresh ball galls as well as a clusters of fern-like Wild Carrot leaves among the grasses. The life cycle of this biennial plant begins with the formation of these basal rosettes. Emerging now, they will stay green throughout the winter, covered with snow. During the second year, it produces a flower stalk that terminates in umbrella-shaped clusters of small white flowers called Queen-Anne’s Lace. Nearby, I see the folded-up flower heads of this plant as the cycle continues.  Back on the road, I first look north as the river runs under an overhanging Dogwood shrub with its reddening leaves and then look east at a Wild Apple tree with one remaining fruit. Working my way along the east bank, I come upon a dense stand of mature Yellow Birch trees whose inner bark contains oil of wintergreen. By scratching and sniffing a twig, one can enjoy the pleasant aroma. Scanning the forest floor, I spot some Oyster mushrooms and Amber Jelly fungi. At first glance, these jelly fungi don’t look like something you’d want to eat, but this species is edible. Nature foragers soak them in water and rinse them before cooking. However, they taste rather bland with a texture on the rubbery side. On the other hand, the blandness works in its favor as it absorbs the flavors of sauces and spices sautéed with them. 

Late October river flow

Before flurries of snow

Oak leaves lose their glow

Young buck seeks a doe

Turtles dive deep below

Water moves, fast to slow

Far away calls the crow

Redwings left long ago

Cattails cease to grow

Nature’s autumn show

 

D. DeGraaf

October 19

It’s a partly cloudy, chilly morning as I watch the Pine River flow east under 4^th street, a dirt road in Montcalm County’s village of Millbrook. Following a groomed trail down into the flood plain, I find myself in a dense stand of Black Locust trees, of various ages including mature ones with deeply furrowed bark. Considered invasive species, these trees with their compound leaves, reproduce rapidly by sending up new shoots from roots. Stands like this replace existing native vegetation, reducing plant diversity. They can also alter soil characteristics through their ability to fix nitrogen, facilitating the spread of other nonnative species, such and garlic mustard. Despite these problems, the high-density wood from Black Locust is extremely rot resistant, making it an ideal material for fenceposts, outdoor furniture, decks, and other projects that require weatherproof materials. Moving to the riverbank, I pause to watch the flowing water while listening to a Wild Turkey. This “assembly” call is used by the female to bring a scattered flock back together. Continuing on the leaf-covered trail, I’m not surprised to come upon a turkey feather mixed with mostly elm leaves, Nearby, I spot an old Goldenrod ball gall with a hole in it, most likely made by a Woodpecker or Chickadee who detected a small maggot developing inside and dug it out for a quick meal. Up ahead, I see the milkweed-like seeds of a Swallow-wort vine. This invasive species is a perennial climbing vine that can form extensive patches and smother native vegetation. Making my way back to the riverside, I notice the drooping seed heads of Foxtail grass as well as a decaying log covered with Whitewash lichen. Retracing my steps back to the road, I begin to explore the opposite bank where I notice a few colorful leaves of Sumac that remain on the branches as well as the familiar call of a Nuthatch. Walking back to the car, I gaze a short distance west at the old abandoned grain mill with its rusted-out waterwheel that was an important part of the history of this village and thus the name, Millbrook. Records indicate that the “brook” was indeed the Pine River (stock photo) that was dammed, creating an extensive millpond (stock photo). The rapid current thus provided energy to turn the waterwheel and grind the grain into flour (stock photo). 

We meet again river called Pine

Who did you pass along the way?

Was it an angler casting a line

Or on the shore, children play

Maybe a hiker over a bridge

Or a farmer plowing the bank

Maybe someone photographing

Or crop duster emptying its tank

Maybe an owner treating his lawn

Or canoeist going with the flow

Or picnickers littering the edge

Human being, friend or foe?

 

D. DeGraaf

October 12

For the last Pine River encounter in Isabella County, I leave my car off Chapman Rd., just east of the village of Millbrook. It’s mid mourning under sunny skies and temperatures in the upper 50’s when I pause on the bank to watch the river flow eastward through a scenic autumn landscape. The muddy shoreline reveals a leaf litter of maple and hickory as well as green Starwort pondweed. Gazing skyward, I could barely make out a gibbous moon through the leafless branches of a towering dead Ash tree. Hiking through dense underbrush, I pass by Virginia Stickseed and Burdock where, not surprisingly, several of their seeds and burrs stick to my pants. In 1948, Swiss engineer, George de Mestral duplicated the hook and loop fastener inspired by the Burdock burrs. The result of his new invention was Velcro ® brand fasteners, a name that came from the French words for velvet (“velours”) and hook (“crochet”). Looking down, I spot the posterior of a 4-inch Leopard Frog, noting its skin is darker than the usual green-mostly like a genetic variation. Back to the water’s edge, I look overhead as a gust of wind moves through a stand of colorful, mature maple and then look down to see a couple of never-before-seen Ditch Stonecrop plants with their colorful seed capsules. Continuing to explore the bank, I observe two plants with ripe fruit of nearly the same color and size, namely Wild Grape and Virginia Creeper. Despite these similarities, there are critical differences. Fruit of Wild Grape can be eaten as a trail snack but tastes better after the first frost. Making juice from the grapes is a great way to benefit from their goodness. Also, since the grapes freeze well, they can be used for juice throughout the winter. The leaves are also edible. They can be eaten in a salad (they have a tangy citrusy taste) or cooked. On the other hand, Virginia creeper berries and leaves are toxic. They contain tiny crystals called oxalate crystals.  If chewed, they can cause irritation to the lips, mouth, tongue, and throat. Although rare, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and difficulty swallowing can occur. Heading back to the car, I pause to notice Timothy Grass is in bloom before taking one last look at the river as the morning sun reflects off the water.  

High in a canopy

Touching a cloud

Leaf of scarlet

Lost in the crowd

Time to let go

Time to break free

Tis the season

Fall from the tree

Waft thru branches 

Without a sound

Welcome to earth

Adorn the ground

 

D, DeGraaf

October 5

With a chill in the air and the early morning sun at my back, I’m standing on Isabella County’s Roland Rd. bridge as the Pine River flows gently under me. Descending the roadbed into the floodplain, I make my way gingerly toward the channel through a very wet stand of matted down Reed Canary grass. This cool-season perennial grass thrives in conditions like this. However, it’s highly invasive and spreads rapidly through rhizomes to produce dense stands, preventing the growth of native wetland species. Arriving at the bank, I look around to see the delicate web of an orb weaver as well as seed pods of Swamp Milkweed. Nearby, decaying tree trunks display rarely seen Liverwort and Elegant Sunburst Lichen. Also known as the “space lichen”, this species was sent to the International Space Station and exposed to the vacuum of space. After surviving for 18 months by drying up and going dormant, it began to grow when given water upon returning to Earth. Moving along the bank, I first hear the faint call of a solitary Chickadee and then spot a few berries of Bittersweet Nightshade. There is much disagreement over the toxicity of these berries. Some say that paralysis can result in humans that have eaten as few as six berries. Cases of poisoning in cattle, horses, and sheep have been documented. Concentrations of toxic compounds within plants may vary with growth stage, and chemical components may vary from one individual plant to the next. Working my way back to the road, a Maple tree with leaves changing colors catches my eye. After crossing the bridge, I begin to explore the far bank where I observe a Crane Fly resting in the undergrowth, a few berries still clinging to a Silky Dogwood bush and a Curly Dock plant loaded with seeds. As a relative of buckwheat, Dock seeds are edible. Nature foragers strip them from the stem and grind them into flour that is high in fiber and gluten free. Along the way, I notice lots of Joe-Pye weed fully seeded out and a decaying tree trunk loaded with aging and browning Oyster Mushrooms. Turning around, I make my way back toward the car where I’m surprised to see a few colorful blossoms, including White Sweet Clover and Red Clover Also, the colorful leaves and hips of a Wild Rose vine catches my eye. Back in the car, I take off down the road noticing “road apples” deposited by a half dozen Amish horse and buggies that I saw during my hour-long river encounter.

 

Back by your side, riverflow

Favorite season? Hard to know

Now it’s time for autumn’s show

Midstream mirrors the dazzling sun

amid maple red and aspen gold.

But, what about winter, riverflow

when drifts adorn the frozen shore.

Or, what about spring? When 

blossoms decorate barren banks.

And then there’s summer when

emerald walls line your channel wide.

Riverflow, back by your side.

 

D. DeGraaf