March 31

The early morning sky at Forest Hill Nature Area is sunny with temperatures hovering around freezing, as I begin hiking through a field of tall Switch Grass while listening to noisy Canada Geese. After watching a pair of Mallards fly over as the hen calls out, I come to the edge of one of the wetlands to see some much-needed water has returned after last year’s drought.  Soon, I come upon a dying White Birch tree whose trunk shows a fungal growth called a Birch Conk. This fungus was carried by "Ötzi the Iceman" and may have been used as a laxative to expel whipworm. Ötzi the Iceman, a naturally mummified man from the Copper Age, was discovered in the Alps in 1991, and his well-preserved remains offer insights into the lives and deaths of people from 5,300 years ago. Making my way to another wetland, I pause to hear the call of a Red-bellied Woodpecker along with the drumming sound of another woodpecker. Up ahead, the song of an American Robin catches my attention before I spot it high in an Ash tree. Moving past another wetland, I look up to see and hear only male Redwing Blackbirds and realize that females have not yet returned to begin breeding and nesting. Up ahead, I spot willow branches displaying white, fuzzy nubs. Because these nubs resemble furry, cat paws, the trees are called pussy willows. These nubs are actually flowers just before they fully bloom. The soft fuzzy coating of hairs acts as insulation to protect them from cold temperatures. Even in full bloom, willow flowers hardly look like flowers at all (stock photo). Such flowers are called catkins, also named for cats, in this case for their tails (from the old Dutch word for kitten(katteken). Hiking over to a large pond, I gaze out on the water and can barely make out a mating pair of Common Mergansers, as the male shows off his white breast. They most likely are stopping to rest and feed before proceeding north to their breeding grounds in the boreal forests of Canada and Alaska. The word “merganser” comes from the Latin and roughly translates to “plunging goose”—a good name for this very large diving duck. Circling the pond, I look up at leafless branches of a Green Ash tree displaying brown galls of the male flowers. Microscopic mites (stock photo) feed and lay eggs on bud scales resulting in disfigurement of the flowers and formation of galls. Near the car, I look high overhead to observe a Red Maple tree with hanging clusters of bright red flower buds ready to bloom. Most of these trees are either male or female displaying only male or female flowers. In this case, the flowers are female.

March makes its final stand

Deep in a cattail marsh

Pond won’t give up ice

Weather remains harsh

Amid barren trees

Sheltered from a windy chill

Patches of melting snow

Vestiges of winter still

From a leafless perch

Welcomed sound is heard

Hail, harbinger of spring!

Hail, redwing blackbird

 

D. DeGraaf

March 24

After taking a break to do nature hikes elsewhere, I resume my quest to follow the Bad River downstream to its confluence with the Shiawassee River near Saginaw. The early morning skies are clear with temperatures in the upper 30’s as I’m greeted by a Northern Cardinal while looking down from a high bank in the Lafayette Cemetery to the water of the Bad River flowing rapidly to the north. The pile of logs over the channel reminds me how the Chippewa Indians had great difficulty navigating this watercourse and so named it the “bad river”. After descending the steep bank to the river’s edge, I move along the flood plain where I notice some green, spiny rosettes of Bull Thistle. These are the first year growth of a two year cycle. Next year, they will produce an erect stem that will display lovely pink blossoms (stock photo). Nearby, I come upon a decaying log displaying a common shelf fungus called White Cheese Polypore. While some sources mention potential medicinal properties, it's not recommended for consumption. Near shore, I spot the inner bivalve shell of a Mussel in the shallow water. Just ahead, I notice the outer bivalve shell of a Mussel displaying its growth rings. These rings are formed annually, with one dark and one light band representing a year of growth. Older mussels may have worn or indistinct rings, making them hard to count. Growth ring formation can be influenced by the availability of food, water temperature and other environmental factors, leading to inconsistencies in ring spacing and clarity. Despite these challenges, growth rings remain a valuable tool for studying mussel populations. Also in the flood plain, I observe Haircap moss growing on bare rock. Because it's a non-vascular plant that doesn't require soil or a complex root system, this moss uses rhizoids to anchor itself and absorbs moisture and nutrients directly through its leaves from the air and water. Ascending the bank, I pause on the St. Charles Rd. bridge as the river water flows under me. From here, I catch a quick glimpse of a flying formation of singing Tundra Swans returning to their breeding grounds in the Arctic Coastal Plain of Canada. In winter they migrate to the West and East coasts of the United States, where they live in wetlands and salt marshes. Turning around and making my way back to the car, I look afar to see a deer walking past while I listen to a singing Song Sparrow.  Near the car, I pause one last time to hear the flowing water while being serenaded by birdsongs, including a Redwing Blackbird and a Mourning Dove.

Gone winter ice

Your current revealed

Flowing again

Through forest and field

Gone winter snow

Your banks revealed

Sprouts of green

Earth will yield

Gone winter chill

Birdsongs revealed

River of spring

Nature you wield

 

D. DeGraaf

March 17

It’s early morning with sunny skies and temperatures in the mid 40’s, as I find myself in Mt. Pleasant’s, 46-acre, Veit’s Woods for my weekly nature hike. Following a narrow earthen trail, I’m greeted by the call of a Northern Cardinal, a faithful harbinger of the upcoming season. After crossing a boardwalk lined with leaf-less Red- Osier Dogwood shrubs, I pause at an Austrian Pine tree so see that some of its lower needles have turned yellow. The most likely cause is low soil moisture from long-term drought conditions. Up ahead, I spot a perching Black squirrel, before it scampers up a leaf-less branch. These squirrels are not a separate species, but rather a color variant of the eastern Gray squirrel. It’s evident that their population has increased around here over the past several years. Despite the dark color making it more visible to predators in the winter, it’s the dark fur retaining more heat that gives it a better chance to survive. While moving through a forest of mature, smooth-bark American Beech trees and coarse-bark Red Oak trees, I examine the leaf litter that confirms the proximity of these trees. Next, I come upon a puddle of water while my ears perk up to the distant call of a male Redwing blackbird. First of all, this puddle, referred to as “vernal pool” is an important breeding habitat for salamanders, frogs and toads. Secondly, the call of a male Redwing indicates he has return from his southerly migration and will be establishing a breeding territory before females arrive to mate.  Arriving at a high bank of the fast-flowing Chippewa River, I look at a listen to a mating pair of Canada Geese as they announce to other geese that this will be their nesting territory. During the egg-laying and hatching period, the pair will aggressively defend this part of the river. Nearby, two pair of Geese and one pair of Mallards catch my eye. Looking downstream, I watch flowing water move rapidly on the outside curve of this meandering river, creating a steep “cut bank”. Slower moving water on the inside of the meander has less energy, so it creates a “point bar” of sediment. Over time, the continued erosion on the outside and deposition on the inside causes the meander to migrate, or move, across the floodplain. As meanders migrate and grow, they can eventually cut off a loop of the river, creating an "oxbow lake". Turning away from the river and heading back to the car, I notice a Common Privet bush displaying. small, blue berries.. This fruit is mildly poisonous to humans and dogs causing extreme irritation to the hands, mouth and digestive track.

Frigid morning 

Sun shines bright

Last days of winter

Landscape not white

Bare branches

Shape the trees

Hanging catkins

Await the leaves

Track of a creature

Marks the ground

Searching for food

Has to be found

 

D. DeGraaf

March 10

The mid-day skies are partly sunny with temperatures in the upper 30’s and a SW wind, as I watch the water of Salt Creek flow through huge culverts under Blanchard Rd, just east of the village of Shepherd. While current maps label it “Salt Creek.”, maps in the 1800’s called it “Salt River”, which was also the name of the village that is now Shepherd. To the best of my knowledge, the term “salt” in the name has nothing to do with the salinity of the surface water, instead it refers to brine-rich aquifers and springs in this area where valuable chemicals were extracted. Following the creek bank north, I still see lots of ice covering the water. Exploring the floodplain, I spot a rosette of green leaves of an invasive Dame’s Rocket plant. This rosette represents the first year of two-year life cycle. In the second year, it's a tall plant with clusters of flowers (stock photo). On the ground, an Orange Milkcap mushroom displaying gills, catches my eye. Mushroom gills are thin, papery structures on the underside of the cap where spores are produced and released. Still hiking through the flood plain, I come upon Turkey Tail mushrooms stained with green algae. This coloration indicates these are false turkey tails. True turkey tails typically have minimal algae growth and appears more uniformly colored. Moving back to the creek’s edge, I watch the water flow gently between icy shores. In the distance, I see two Canada Geese walking and honking. Most likely a mating pair, they are seeking a nesting site. Mating pairs like these will stay together for life. If one member of a pair dies, the other goose usually finds another mate within the same breeding season. Turning around, I work my way back toward the car where, I notice a few spore stalks of Sensitive ferns and imagine the green fronds displayed next summer (stock photo). Before reaching the car, I cross a foot bridge and hike along the far shore where I can barely make out a Chipping Sparrow perched in the dense undergrowth. Early naturalists had a way of describing birds you just don’t see anymore. In 1929, Edward Forbush called the Chipping Sparrow “the little brown-capped pensioner of the dooryard and lawn, that comes about farmhouse doors to glean crumbs shaken from the tablecloth by thrifty housewives.” Continuing along the creek, I notice the ground is covered Cottonwood leaf litter. Looking up, I see the branches are displaying new leaf buds. These buds exude a reddish resinous sap that has medicinal compounds for making salves and oils to treat inflammation, pain, and soreness in muscles and joints. 

Spring starts to pull

Winter won’t let go

One warms the ground

Other returns the snow

One thaws the pond

Welcoming the geese

Other refreezes

Nesting efforts cease

One brings Redwings

Songs from the marsh

Other keeps the wind

Still blowing harsh

 

D. DeGraaf

March 3

With sunny skies and temperatures in the mid 30’s, I’m on an early morning hike at the Florence Maxwell Audubon Woods preserve, 10 miles west of Mt. Pleasant. Proceeding downslope toward the Chippewa River on a trail of crusty snow, I’m alert to the loud call of a Red-bellied Woodpecker (stock photo). Up ahead, I come upon an exposed Carpenter ant nest containing hundreds of pupae inside their ½ inch cocoons. It’s hard to know if they’re viable but they’re known to enter a dormant state called diapause during the winter. This period of inactivity helps them survive cold temperatures and food scarcity. As temperatures rise in the spring, the carpenter ant colony becomes more active as some of the adults tend to the larvae and pupae (stock photo). Nearby, I spot a large tree trunk whose bark is lined with dozens of small, white Turkey-tail fungi. Arriving at the river’s edge, I pause to look at and listen to the flowing water as a White-breasted Nuthatch (stock photo) calls from afar. Moving along the shoreline, I see some Opossum tracks in the snow. Unlike some mammals, opossums do not hibernate in the winter. They need to leave the safety of their dens to forage since they don’t store food in their dens or collect excess fat in their bodies. Opossums are opportunistic omnivores feeding on insects, small animals, cat or dog food, nuts, berries and anything else they can find in open garbage cans. Down in the water, I observe a pile of Eastern Elliptio Mussel shells with their purple-colored interior layer. This type of mussel is rarely seen around here but is commonly found in the upper peninsula. Up ahead, I stop and watch the river water flow northeast toward Mt. Pleasant and beyond (stock photo). Turning south away from the river, I trudge through a dense woodland, where the drumming sound of a woodpecker catches my attention. This rapid tapping of their beaks on trees is how they communicate, including attracting a mate and defending their territory. Next to the trail, I spot an 18-inch, knobby, woody growth on a young Maple tree. This unusual growth, called a burl, may be caused by burrowing insects, viruses, pruning cuts, storm damage and fungal or bacterial infections. Woodworkers prize burls for their unique grain patterns. Burl wood can be expensive (stock photo) due to its rarity, exclusivity, and labor-intensive harvesting process. Continuing back toward the car, I take in the lovely song of a Tufted Titmouse, a signal of the season to come.

 

In the dawn of March

Old man winter won’t let go

Mother Nature still asleep

Trail still covered in snow

Walking through a silent forest

Naked maples on a floor of white

Squirrel tracks to my left

Deer tracks to my right

Turning to a rising sun

Hands cold. Cheeks numb

Few sounds of singing birds

Few clues of spring to come

D. DeGraaf