January 25

On a partly sunny and frigid morning, Caroline and I make our way along a snow-covered path in Mt. Pleasant’s Chipp-A-Waters Park. Soon, I pause on the bank of the Chippewa River to watch it round the bend and head northeast into the city limits. According to today’s measurements from the Mt. Pleasant station: water depth is 3.6 ft. and the flow rate is 290 cubic ft./sec. Further ahead, I notice a Winterberry shrub with some remaining fruit as well as a Multiflora Rosebush with some hips still attached. Rose hips are edible and very rich in vitamin C as well as vitamin B and carotene. Since they are usually acidic and rather astringent, they’re rarely eaten fresh, but rather cooked with sugar. It’s important, however, to remove the seeds before consuming hips. Their seeds are covered in irritating hairs that can cause unpleasant reactions to the skin and mucous membranes. Often this irritation is carried right through the digestive tract. As a result, the French call rose hips “gratte-culs” (butt scratchers), while American Indian tribes described the result as “itchy bottom disease.” As the morning sun breaks through the clouds, my attention is drawn to the river channel where beams bounce off the rippling, flowing water. Following the path into a wooded area, I pause to face the base of a massive Eastern Cottonwood tree. According to the posted sign, this massive tree has a diameter of 71 inches and a circumference of 220 inches-meaning it would take 3 lengthy adults, holding hands, to encircle the tree. Nearby, I spot fresh tracks of a Cottontail rabbit and a Musclewood (Blue Beech) tree still holding on to its dead leaves. Further ahead, I notice a large “graveyard” of mature Ash trees. Before the Emerald Ash Borer began killing them in large numbers, Ash trees were one of the most valuable and abundant North American woodland trees: estimates of total numbers ranged between seven and nine billion. Since 2002, this insect has destroyed 40 million ash trees in Michigan alone and hundreds of millions throughout other states and Canada. Next, we cross a footbridge over the river and follow a circular path around Veit’s Woods where I notice several immature Beech trees still had their leaves attached. Finally, we retrace our steps back to the car and head for home.

Early morning sunbeams

create long shadows 

over the icy river flow,

illuminate the far bank

with glistening white, 

warm the gray Juncos 

in the leafless dogwood,

reveal tracks of a mink 

hunting near shore, 

light up my spirit with

nature's wonderland

 

D. DeGraaf

January 18

With temperatures in the mid 30’s and a brisk wind at my back, I’m hiking east along a 12- ft. wide berm in a massive cattail marsh of the Maple River State Game Area, 30 miles south of Alma. Overhead, a leafless tree reveals a vacant Baltimore Oriole nest among branches sprouting catkins. These nests consist of tightly woven plant fibers, strips of bark, grapevines, grass, yarn, string, lined with fine grass, plant down and hair.  The only reason there aren't more old nests hanging from trees is because often times the female will use material from her old nest to make a new one. Orioles don't reuse an old nest, but they certainly will recycle one. On another tree nearby, I observe a Bald-face hornets’ nest. In the fall, hornet males and new queens are produced. These leave the nest, mate, and the fertilized queens hibernate. The remainder of the workers, the old queen, and the males die of old age or freezing temperatures. Nearby, I come upon some squirrel tracks as well as rope-like, hairy, leafless vines of poison ivy clinging to a tree trunk. Further ahead, I pause as the westerly wind blows through a mix of Reed Canary grass and Teasel. Among the hundreds of acres of dead cattails, I notice several snow-capped mounds of plant material made by Muskrats. The larger ones, called lodges are built by first heaping plant material and mud to form a mound. A burrow is then dug into the mound from below the water level and a chamber is fashioned for them to shelter from freezing temperatures, avoid predation and sleep. The smaller ones, called push-ups are built away from the main lodge. When the ice is still very thin, muskrats push plant materials up through holes in the ice, thus the name push-up. The plant material of the push-up creates a hidden platform on the ice where the muskrat can rest and feed. Turning south, I notice a dense stand of leafless pussy willows displaying their red winter branches while some of them also have dense clumps of twigs known as Witches' Brooms. Caused by a type of bacteria known as a phytoplasma, this abnormal growth does not harm the plant. Turning around and heading back to the car, I discover, among this stark winter landscape, some chlorophyll green including duck weed and sedge as well as shoots of wild Iris, an early sign of the season to come. 

 

Birds of the cold

Quest to survive

Searching for food

Staying alive

Cardinal of red

Junco of gray

Eyes of the raptor

Fixed on its prey

A sudden dive

From a tree above

Life for the hawk

Death for the dove

 

D. DeGraaf

January 11

Under cloudy skies and temperatures in the mid 30’s, I find myself 10 miles southwest of Alma in the village of Sumner hiking a snowy path close to the Pine River. Sumner’s first settlers came to Gratiot County in the mid 1850s, establishing a sawmill and a store in the location that would become the village. The settlement was first known as “Belltown” after George S. Bell, who took possession of 400 acres of land in Sumner Township. Another of the first immigrants, Titus Stover, ran the store, and his customers took to calling the settlement “Stoverville.” The village that would eventually be Sumner was laid out in 1868 and named “Estella”. (stock photo) When the post office was established in 1869, it was named Sumner because it was the first post office in Sumner Township. In 1913, Sumner’s school had two teachers and ten grades. There were churches in town for Free Methodists, Adventists and Church of Christ. Businesses included a flour mill, a hotel, and a blacksmith shop. There was also a resident physician and several stores that sold general merchandise. Up in the canopy, I notice a tall Oak tree with dead leaves still attached and a tall Maple sprouting leaf buds in preparation for spring. On the path, I spot a deer track in the snow stained slightly yellow due to tannic acid seepage from the underlying, decaying leaf litter. Approaching the riverbank, I pause in the quietude of this winter landscape to look and listen as the water flows gently from north to south. Walking along the bank, I notice squirrel tracks as well as Goldenrod blossoms seeding out. Blossoms begin forming in mid-August and continues through October. Plants usually do not flower until the second year of growth at which time they produce an average of 3000 seeds per plant. A pappus (stock photo) at the tip of each seed aids in wind dispersal; goldenrod seeds released 3 feet off the ground traveled an average of 2 feet in a 5-mph wind. Goldenrod plants also reproduce by way of short rhizomes (stock photo) emerging from the base of aerial stems. Rhizomes are usually not produced until after the first year of growth at which time several grow outward from the same root crown resulting in a circular cluster of stems between 2 to 5 inches apart. Patches of shoots produced by rhizomes arising from a single root system were observed growing up to 8 feet wide. Finally, up ahead, I turn north to view the river and think about a similar view from last spring. 

 

Crystalline white fell overnight

Closing doors of hibernators

Crowning heads of cattails

Revealing paws of predators

Blanketing layers of leaf litter

Draping needles of green

Insulating muskrat mounds

Drifting against pillars of pine

Settling on winter’s wonderland

Crystalline white fell overnight

 

D. DeGraaf

January 4

Five inches of fresh snow covers the trail before me as I make my way along the north side of Forest Hill Nature Area. Under cloudy skies and a temperature in the mid 20’s, I pause on the dock at Mallard Marsh to notice an unusual neuron-shaped hole in the ice. In the 1850’s, Henry David Thoreau, when writing about Walden Pond in Massachusetts described “dark figures, shaped somewhat like a spider’s web, what you may call ice rosettes” in that pond’s frozen surface. Apparently, this pattern is formed when a hole (perhaps a Muskrat’s airhole) in a recently frozen pond allows water to swell up from beneath and spread over the snow-covered surface, leaving dark “fingers” of melted ice stemming from a central point. Subsequently, the surface re-freezes and the pattern sets up. Continuing through Bobolink Meadow, I come upon a 2 ft. diameter dome, home to a colony of Allegheny mound ants. While not hibernating, members of the colony retreat well below ground and slow their metabolism. Proceeding through North Woods, I’m not surprised to see a few Beech trees still retaining their leaves, as well as some tracks of Whitetail deer and Fox squirrel. Making my way across Succession Field, I stop at a Crab Apple tree loaded with fruit. A few more episodes of freezing/thawing will soften and ripen the fruit enough for it to become a winter food source for birds like Cedar Waxwings. The crab apple is actually the wild apple, source of all domestic apples grown today. However, what about the origin of the word “crab”? One thought is it’s related to someone being disagreeable and ill-tempered as the fruit is not pleasant and ill-flavored. Another thought is the tree branches resemble the legs of a crab. Hiking along the edge of Willow Wallow, I couldn’t help but notice the rotating blades of a wind turbine far to the east. Exploring the top of Reflection Hill, I come across a patch of native grasses as well as few Milkweed pods that still retain seeds. Also, I take in the pastoral view of Raske barn and ice-covered Grebe Pond. Circling counterclockwise around the pond, I spot tracks of Ring-necked Pheasant as well as domestic cat. Arriving at the north end of the pond, I notice a muskrat lodge out on the ice, tracks of Canada geese near shore as well as tracks of Cottontail rabbit near the barn. 

Nature sounds muted

Pond fast asleep

Ice seals the surface 

No Spring Peepers peep

No Bull Frogs croak

Or Green Herons shriek

No Mallards quack

Or Wood Ducks squeak

Redwings have left

Tree Swallows too

Winter’s hush

Right on cue

 

D. DeGraaf