Tuesday, November 1, 2022

October 31

With morning temperatures in the lower 60’s under mostly sunny skies and a southerly breeze, I look south from the Johnson Rd. bridge at an unusually straight section of the Pine Creek channel, most likely reshaped by humans to facilitate drainage of farmland. Likewise, the lack of a natural vegetation buffer along the banks, means runoff from this farmland (likely containing herbicide and pesticide residue) washes directly into the creek. Moving down from the bridge, I spot seeds of Milkweed and Clematis (Old Man’s Beard) as well as the red berries of Bittersweet Nightshade. Although not as toxic as Deadly Nightshade (stock photo), these berries are somewhat poisonous and have caused loss of livestock, pet poisoning and, more rarely, sickness and death in children. While exploring the creek, north of the bridge, I pause to watch its water flow gently past, carrying and depositing Cottonwood leaves. After driving north to the Buchannan Rd. bridge, I work my way along a high bank and come upon a patch of recently disturbed dirt called a “buck scrape.” In most cases a buck begins the scraping process by rubbing his forehead and spreading is scent on an overhanging branch and in some cases licking and chewing it.  Once done, he will paw the leaves and other debris from the ground under the branch, then urinate on it, leaving liberal amounts of scent behind to signal his dominance over other bucks. Moving down the bank, I notice a small tree trunk with scrape marks called a “buck rub. These abrasions are caused by a buck rubbing his forehead and antlers against it to remove the velvet from newly grown antlers. Likewise, this effort leaves a scent that communicates a challenge to other bucks while also attracting potential mates. Glancing skyward, I see and hear a perching male Redwing Blackbird-a sight and sound expected in early spring when he claims his breeding territory. However, most likely, this bird is part of a larger feeding flock that is migrating south from his summer breeding grounds in northern Michigan or Canada to winter grounds in southern US or Mexico. Looking across the creek, I can barely make out a clump of dead grass mixed with the fur and bones of an unknown mammal, clinging to a woody snag. Working my way back to the car, I can’t help but notice another one of many suspicious drainpipes sticking out of the bank. Near the car, I’m reminded of the season while observing leaves fall gently as the morning sun shines through a dense stand of deciduous trees. 

 

Autumn breathes a sigh

October breathes its last

Green has gone in hiding

Colors fading fast

Swallows long gone

Blue Jays stayed

Gone the flowered fields

Gone the forest shade

No more warming sun

Or calls of the wild

No more long days

Or breezes mild

 

D. DeGraaf

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