March 29

The early morning sky is overcast and the temperature is in the mid 40’s as I begin my hike on the Lumberjack Park Nature Trail. Heading north, I follow the boardwalk, then turn east along the edge of Mud Creek and arrive at the footbridge where I pause to watch the creek water flow west through a stark early spring landscape while listening to the sound of a song sparrow and distant crow. Proceeding through a stand of Red and White pine, I turn south and head to the edge of the Pine River to watch a the gently flowing current while listening to the song of a Northern Cardinal and the alternate drumming of two woodpeckers. Depending on the reason for drumming, woodpeckers, like Downies, have drum trees (such as the hard wood at the top of a dead maple) that have special resonance. A male Downy may ascend such a place, trying successive spots with a few bursts on each, extracting a variety of sounds, some flat, some deep, and others loud and sharp, the effect being like the playing of a xylophone. Following the trail west along a steep bank, I pause at a bench to take in the scenic riparian landscape. Continuing west, I come to Lumberjack Rd. where I glance upward to the top of a telephone pole to see a perching adult Red-tailed hawk, displaying the colorful tail feathers for which it’s named. These raptors typically prey on reptiles, birds, and small mammals. Most prey is taken back to a feeding perch where it’s beheaded before being consumed.  Birds, even small birds, are usually plucked of their feathers while small mammals are often swallowed whole. Redtails also feed on carrion, including roadkill. Crossing the road bridge, I follow the Campground trail along a wide rocky river channel as its water flows to the southeast. Continuing into the campground through a carpet of fallen leaves, I enjoy another song variation of the Northern Cardinal. Veering off the trail to the river’s edge, I look eastward to watch the water of Mud creek flow gently into the Pine River. Nearby, a sign of early spring catches my eye, the purplish hood-like bract of a Skunk Cabbage. Hidden inside this structure are numerous small, purple flowers growing on a small, oval, fleshy spike (stock photo). These flowers don’t need “attractive” petals because pollinators, like honeybees, are attracted to the heat and fetid odor the plants produce in early spring.

 

March bids farewell

Beside a cattail marsh

River’s open water

Wind no longer harsh

Stand of barren trees

Early morning sun

Banks surrender snow

Winter’s barely done

From the silent shore

Welcomed song is heard

Glad tidings of spring

Hail, redwing blackbird

 

D. DeGraaf

March 22

This morning, I’m 11 miles west of Alma hiking on Alma College property commonly referred to as the “Vestaburg Bog”. Under overcast skies and temperatures in the mid 30’s, I follow an earthen path through a mature leafless forest where I come upon recently shredded tree bark clearly showing the gnawing marks of a porcupine. Up ahead, I spot a downed aspen tree displaying orange stain on its bark caused by a fungus called Cytospora canker. This fungus attacks trees that are injured or stressed. It grows in the living bark (phloem) and wood (xylem) and kills the tree by girdling it. Nearby, I come upon dozens of tree trunks displaying 1-2-inch empty egg cases of the Gypsy moth. This year’s viable eggs have overwintered, will hatch into caterpillars in April (stock photo), climb to the treetops and feed by chewing the young leaves. An infestation of these caterpillars can defoliate and entire forest in 6-8 weeks. After pupating in early summer, the flightless white female and darker male moths (stock photo), mate, produce new egg cases and die by late summer. Speaking of pupation, I also spot a Gypsy Moth cocoon nestled in bark of a another tree. Next, I move downgrade and enter the bog habitat where I catch a brief glimpse of a racoon scurrying ahead. Reaching the shore, I pause to scan this 10-acre eutrophic lake filled with highly acidic water and containing no more minerals than are contained in rainwater, often the only source of water for a bog. In addition, the lake is surrounded by a spongy mat of Sphagnum moss. Examining the moss more closely, I notice some patches are lush green while others display bright red gametophytes. Sphagnum moss contains large empty cells that readily absorb and retain water, giving it a spongelike quality. It absorbs minerals from the water, replacing them with acid, making the water around itself more acidic. In addition, I spot another type of vegetation characteristic of Michigan bogs, the insectivorous Northern Pitcher plant. Insects are attracted to the mouth of the pitcher by nectar-secreting glands that extend downward from the lip to a very smooth throat and then slide down into a liquid pool of enzymes where they drown and are digested. Turning around, I make my way back toward the car where I come upon a decaying log covered with Turkey Tail fungi, stained green by soil algae.

 

New season arrives

Creatures start to stir

Calendar is ready

Nature’s still not sure

Sun of the sky

Beams warmer rays

Shorter the nights

Longer the days

Bursting of the buds

Rising of the sap

Mother Earth awakes

From a long winter nap

 

D. DeGraaf

March 15

Arriving at Hall’s Lake Natural Area, 15 miles west of Mt. Pleasant, I begin hiking through a stand of leafless broadleaf trees where patches of snow still linger, even after last week’s 40–50-degree temperatures. After noticing the leaf litter consists mostly Aspen and Oak, I come upon a small tree stump recently shredded by a hungry Pileated Woodpecker (stock photo). While the sunrises through the forest behind me, I head west to the edge of ice-covered Halls Lake. Based on the geologic history of central Michigan, this 50-acre body of water is most likely a “kettle lake”. The basin of this lake was formed thousands of years ago during the most recent ice age as a receding glacier deposited a large block of ice here that slowly melted away and turned into a depression that later filled with rainwater, melting snow and groundwater flowing from springs. Making my way along a bluff above the lake, I can’t help but notice several white birch tree trunks on the ground in various stages of decomposition. Looking more closely, I can see that many are like tubes where the insides have rotted away leaving only the bark. Turns out birch wood is soft, open-grained and very susceptible to invasion by water and various fungi which cause rapid decay. The bark, on the other hand is highly resistant to decay. The cells in the outer layers of bark contain betulin crystals that are arranged in such a way as to reflect light and appear white, protecting it from solar radiation and freeze/thaw cycles. This chemical also protects the bark from fungal decomposers. Also, betulin is a hydrophobic molecule - giving birch bark its superior waterproofing abilities. Glancing once again at the leaf litter, I’m impressed by a collage of oak, maple, beech and bracken fern. Up ahead, sticking out of the leaf litter are several Club Moss plants. Sometimes called “ground pines” because they can resemble pine trees, they are neither pines nor moss. While they’re only a few inches tall, 300 million years ago during the Carboniferous period they were the dominant land plant growing as tall as modern trees. Much of the coal we use today formed from these fossilized plants. Continuing to loop back eastward toward the trailhead, I welcome the morning sun illuminating the saplings of white pine and the mossy green path.  

 

Morning in March

Old man winter won’t let go

Mother Nature still asleep

Trail with patches of snow

Walking a silent forest

Naked maples in my sight

Squirrel tracks to my left

Deer tracks to my right

Facing a stiff north wind

Hands cold, cheeks numb

Few sounds of singing birds

Few clues of spring to come

 

D. DeGraaf

March 8

It’s a sunny, frigid morning in the village of Riverdale as I head southeast on the snow-covered Meijer Bike trail along the edge of Stearns Preserve, a 14-acre property owned by the Chippewa Watershed Conservancy. Today, as a volunteer for the conservancy, I’m checking out the land to make sure it’s maintaining the agency’s standards for wildlife preservation. First, I spot a few1/8 inch frozen Stoneflies on the ground and then I pause on the footbridge to watch the swiftly flowing water of the Pine River carry small chunks of ice downstream. Across the bridge, I turn more southerly and move along the snowy riverbank noticing the ebb and flow of water under a thin layer of ice.  Just ahead at my feet, I come upon a collapsed tunnel of a meadow Vole and a pair of Mallards barely visible afar as they retreat from my noisy presence. Next, I pause to hear the drumming sound of a distant woodpecker. After locating the boundary stake at the southern-most tip of the preserve, I head due north along the property line where some trees are marked with the CWC boundary marker. Along the way, I notice the fresh wood chips at the base of a tree where a Pileated Woodpecker was recently foraging. Nearing the bike trail, I spot some fecal pellets of a cottontail rabbit. Similar to mice and rats, these mammals practice coprophagy, re-ingesting their own feces to absorb more of the vitamins and nutrients contained in them. For these animals, one pass through their digestive system is not sufficient to extract everything they need from their food. Crossing the bike trail, I continue due north into a soggy, lush cedar swamp. More common in the northern lower and upper peninsula, this ecosystem is a groundwater-influenced, forested wetland dominated by northern white-cedar growing on peat-like soils. The water supply comes mainly from streams that flow over or through rocks often acquiring dissolved chemicals which raise the nutrient levels and reduce the acidity, which in turn leads to unique vegetation. As a prime source of winter food and shelter, cedar swamps are great places for deer to gather as seen by this area peppered with their scat. Coming to the northern boundary line, I turn southwesterly and cut diagonally across a frozen flood plain, transected by a gently flowing creek. Finally, I reach the footbridge again and make my way back to the car.

 

I look to the heavens

When maples are bare

A wide-open canopy

Leaflessness there

Curves and lines

Rectangles and squares

Limbs of all lengths

Capture my stares

Criss-cross branches

Blacks and grays

Nature’s geometrics

On winter days

 

D. DeGraaf

March 1

It’s early morning as I trudge on a snow-covered trail in Isabella County’s Deerfield Nature Park. Under partly cloudy skies and temperatures in the mid 30’s, I head southwest on the Lewis Pontiac trail where I’m surprised to see a few fresh beaver stumps. Apparently, a food shortage in their winter lodge resulted in some needing to activate, come ashore and resupply.  Up ahead. I pause on a footbridge to look west and listen as the Chippewa River flows through the scenic winter landscape. Looking east, I watch a Robin feeding along the river ice, a mating pair of Mallards plodding through the snow while the tracks of one of them is noticed near shore. Over the bridge, I follow the trail eastward as the clouds break up to reveal a hint of sunlight and blue skies. Barely visible on the snow-covered ground in front of me are several tiny ¼ inch insects called Little Black Stoneflies. Also called Winter Stoneflies, they have anti-freeze compounds in their body fluids to help them stay active during the cold snowy months. Their lifecycle involves incomplete metamorphosis that includes egg, nymph and adult stages. After being deposited in water, eggs go through several stages of nymph development including formation of wings. When nymphs reach their last instar, they crawl out of the water and molt one last time, becoming adults. During their brief adult life on land of 1-4 weeks, they fly a short distance, eat very little, mate and die. Facing the river, my ears perk up to the “cheer-cheer-cheer” of a Northern Cardinal calling from the far bank. Turning around, I begin to retrace my steps back across the river and eastward toward the car where I spot last year’s sac-like nest of a Baltimore Oriole hanging among leafless branches as well as hear the call of a White-Breasted Nuthatch. Almost back to the trailhead, I notice the trunk of a pine tree dotted with small holes made by bark beetles. These tiny, 1/8-inch insects are brown and cylinder shaped with spines on the back end. (stock photo). Male beetles enter the tree, bore to the phloem and release chemicals that travel through the air to attract females. These females arrive, mate, complete gallery construction with the male and lay eggs in the gallery.  Larvae (stock photo) feed in the phloem and exit the tree when development is complete. These beetles generally do not attack healthy trees – rather, they are attracted to trees that are already stressed, weakened, injured, or dying.  

 

Let me float like flakes

In the forest deep

Let me run like a deer

O’er drifts I leap

Let me beam as the sun

Through leafless trees

Let me flow like fluid

‘Neath river freeze

Let me soar as an eagle

O’er earth to see

If only an hour

I wish I could be

 

D. DeGraaf