December 29

While most of December was cold and snowy, today’s early afternoon temperature is 50 degrees under mostly sunny skies and a breeze out of the west as I begin my hike at Hubscher Park, 8 miles west of Ithaca. This 60-acre property was originally a gravel mining site operated by Hubscher & Son, Inc. for more than 30 years. After mining operations ceased, the land was reclaimed and donated to Gratiot County for a public park. Walking along the edge of a large ice-covered gravel-pit lake, I look up to spot a perching Tree Sparrow and look down on the stoney beach to spot some shells of the invasive Zebra Mussel. Nearby, in the dead, drab leaf litter, I’m pleased to see a color for the season in the form of a few red Nightshade berries. Continuing along the shore, I glance out on the ice to see a Muskrat breathing hole and a few Cottonwood leaves that landed here after being blown from the now-exposed leaf litter. Further along, I pass a stand of Cattails and come upon a Cocklebur plant with their brown prickly pods, called burs that each contain 2 seeds.  Most burs are removed from the parent plant during late autumn and throughout the winter as animals brush against them. They easily stick to fur, hair and are dispersed by these roaming creatures. Climbing up a high bank, I watch a sparrow-like bird take a quick bath before flying off. Passing one of the snow patches, I pause to observe the exposed tunnel of a Meadow Vole. These mouse-like mammals (stock photo) stay active all winter, not hibernating, and thrive under the snowpack where they build tunnels, create nests, and feed on grasses, roots, and even tree bark. They form family groups for warmth and protection, relying on the snow for insulation and cover from predators like owls and foxes. Instead of finding tracks in the snow, I find them on the earthen trail, including white-tail deer and raccoon. Turning around, I look up at a tall Cottonwood tree to spot an unusual, ornate growth attached to the trunk. When a Cottonwood branch breaks off or bark is damaged, the tree responds by growing callus wood around the injury. As it closes over time, it can form smooth, pale, sculpted shapes like this. The lighter tone is exposed or newly formed wood that hasn’t yet darkened or fully re-textured to match the surrounding bark. Near the car, a gust of wind blows the clinging leaves of Oak and Beech. As the light lowers, the hike feels complete. December does not rush out; it simply reminds me that even in the quietest season, nature keeps speaking—if only I look and listen. 

Waves that rolled, rivers that flowed

Sun that shone, skies that snowed

O’er fields of summer flowers

Blooming in daylight hours

Paths of dirt, trails of sod

Up and down slopes I trod

Memories held, far and near

Grateful for another year

D. DeGraaf

December 22

The midday temperatures are in the mid 20’s, under mostly sunny skies as I find myself in Alma’s Conservation Park sitting on one of the benches in the Eyer Learning Circle to take in the sights and sounds of nature. Nearby, I stop by the bird feeders where I spot a Chickadee and a Titmouse. On this first day of astronomical winter (solstice), I head west on a familiar trail knowing the sun is only about 23 degrees above the horizon. With sun at my back, I note my shadow is the longest it will be for the year. Nearby, in the snow, I see where a squirrel has been searching for buried nuts, a reminder of movement in a season that seems lifeless. Scanning the woodland, I observe the Oaks and Maples stand bare, their dark branches crisscrossing against a pale sky. Turning north, I reach the high bank of the Pine River millpond where I notice it’s completely iced over. River ice can give the comforting illusion of protection, a white lid sealing the water beneath. In winter, frozen surfaces quiet the current and hide what flows below, but they do nothing to stop pollution. Nutrients, salts, and industrial contaminants continue moving under the ice. Ice may slow surface exchange with the air, yet it cannot filter chemicals or cleanse sediment. When spring arrives, melting ice releases what was hidden, often concentrating pollutants downstream. The frozen river reminds me that nature’s coverings conceal damage but do not repair it. Turning east, I spot a few Oak leaves on the snow. Wildlife announce themselves subtly. A Pileated Woodpecker fills the air with loud taps, and somewhere deeper in the woods a Crow calls. Following a trail to the south, I find the delicate pattern of vole tracks disappearing beneath a fallen log, and farther on, the unmistakable heart-shaped print of a white-tailed deer. Animals, like the plants, are conserving energy, living inward, yet they are unmistakably present. As afternoon wanes, the light takes on a blue-gray quality unique to winter. The sun dips lower, setting the snow to faintly glow while shadows stretch long and slow. This is the hinge of the year, the day when darkness reaches its fullest measure and, almost imperceptibly, begins to loosen its hold. Walking back toward the car, I’m grateful to have taken in the light and warmth of the sun despite its brevity. The solstice offers a clear-eyed acceptance of cycles, of endurance and promises.

You had barely left

When redwings arrived

My memory faded

When cattails thrived

Forgot about you

When summer came

Autumn commenced

Still the same

You finally showed

O heavenly sphere

Winter solstice

Glad you’re here

 

D. DeGraaf

December 15

The temperature is a frigid 17 degrees under cloudy skies as I start hiking through 7 inches of snow along the icy Pine River in Centennial Park in Gratiot County’s village of Sumner. Having walked here many times over the years, I found a photo from December 10, 2018, showing a milder start to that winter. Trudging along the snowy bank, I pause to notice a Red Maple tree displaying reddish-brown flower buds that form in fall and stay on the bare branches through the winter. These buds, often appearing like tiny ruby earrings, add color to the dormant landscape. Nearby, I spot a large, oblong hole in a tree trunk most likely made by a Pileated Woodpecker as an entrance to its nest. This cavity could be 1-2 feet deep and once vacated may provide much-needed shelter for other wildlife. Continuing north on the walking trail, I found a photo from August 9 of 2021 showing a dramatic seasonal contrast. Speaking of contrasts, I observe the dried, shrunken seed husks of a Golden Raintree compared to what they look like in summer (stock photo). Up ahead, I come upon the fruiting body of a Staghorn Sumac compared to what it looks like in summer (stock photo). Continuing down the trail, I come upon a familiar section of the flood plain and remember being here in the spring when Skunk Cabbage begin to sprout. Turning back toward the car, I can’t help but notice the wide open canopy in contrast to what I saw here in the summer (stock photo). Related to this, I look up to see a few dead Red Oak leaves still hanging from branches and contrast this to what this tree looks like in the summer (stock photo). Up ahead, I’m not surprised to see deer tracks in the snow but am surprised to see the tiny frozen berries of Poison Ivy. While the fruit is edible for birds, the plant remains toxic, including stems, roots, and berries. Nearing the car, I notice something I would not see in the summer when trees are leafed out, a squirrel nest. Called a “drey”, this messy-looking ball of leaves, twigs is built high in trees, usually in forks for stability. The nest is essential for protection from predators and weather, especially winter cold, with temperatures inside being 20-30 degrees warmer. Multiple squirrels may share a single nest to stay warm. Squirrels are constantly on the move, scurrying from tree to tree.  Because of that, it’s common for them to have second and third nests located near their main home. These additional nests are often used to hide from a nearby predator, to store extra food and even as a temporary rest stop throughout a day’s activity.

Outer edge of autumn

Thick clouds of gray

Who will survive?

Predator or prey

Hungry raptor

Scans the field of snow

Perhaps a bird or mouse

Waiting for one to show

Sudden swoop 

From a leafless tree

Missed the mark

Another goes free

 

D. DeGraaf

December 8

The mid-morning temperatures are in the low 20’s under cloudy skies and a steady south wind as I begin hiking north from Madison Rd on 6-inches of fresh snow into Gratiot County’s Lumberjack Park. Coming to a stairway, I look down at a boardwalk spanning an ice-covered wetlands and think back to 2017 when we built steps and this boardwalk as part of a newly-created nature trail system. Following the trail, the site of the footbridge over Mud Creek brings back lots of memories. Construction of this bridge also took place in 2017 when we dragged two, 30-ft telephone poles across a neighbor’s field to span the creek and cover them with planks, milled from Oak trees in the park. Crossing the creek, I continue on the trail and note how the fresh snow creates a wonderful canvas for nature to depict distinct leaf shapes of White oak, Red oak and even Pin oak. Continuing among mature Red and White pine trees. I come to the edge of the Pine River and pause to listen to a Red-bellied Woodpecker. Arriving at a snow-covered bench high on a bank above the river, I think back to 2016 when this trail was one of the first to be established as part of the park trail system. It was that year when members of the park board asked me to help design and construct a nature trail system that included an undeveloped 20-acre parcel on the northeast side of the river. Over the years, this bench has been a favorite stop for park patrons, whether it be winter, spring, summer or fall. Looping back over the Lumberjack Rd bridge, I proceed along the south riverbank and pause to watch the water flow past snow-capped rocks. Continuing south through the Campground trail, I’m reminded that although the trail was officially opened to the public in 2018, it was not until 2019 that this section was added to the trail system. Nearing the car, I pause on the Madison Rd bridge, watch the river flow underneath me while listening to a Black-capped Chickadee. I also think about the past 9 years and all those who helped create a park-wide nature trail system that is still in use today. This history must be put in the context of the park itself. A hundred years ago this land included the last remaining stand of virgin White Pine in Gratiot County.  Slated to be cut down, a group calling themselves the Lumberjack and Rivermen Association purchased the 40-acre parcel for a park that preserved the forest. As a legacy to the” shanty boys” who once worked there, a bunkhouse and cook shanty were constructed in 1930, a pavilion in 1931 and the caretaker's house in 1947. 

Early December

Mostly leafless trees

Nature at attention

Mother Earth at ease

Beside a frozen pond

No frogs with green skin

Atop the snowy grass

No spider webs to spin

Squirrels of woodlands

Prepare for winters blast

Storing their food

Autumn breathes her last

 

D. DeGraaf

December 1

The early morning sky is clear with temperatures near freezing as I enter the Emma Burnham Outdoor Center operated by the St. Louis Public Schools. Years ago, most school districts in Gratiot County had properties like this (stock photo) where students were taught outdoor education as part of the curriculum. However, because of current academic pressures and cultural changes, these properties, including this one, are either underutilized or abandoned. Thank goodness, students in our county schools can still put away their cellphones and receive much-needed outdoor education from Forest Hill Nature Area (stock photo). Following a path south into a mature deciduous forest, I’m not surprised to see the canopy open and the ground covered with a thick layer of leaves. Looking more closely at the leaf litter, I spot mostly Red Oak leaves along with a few White Oak and Bur Oak. The dull, earthy brown color of these leaves is due to a chemical compound called Tannin which remains after the green and red pigments break down. Up ahead in the leaf litter, I notice a single Sugar Maple leaf and a few Beech leaves among the oaks. Nearby, random observations of leaf litter, include a single Quaking Aspen Leaf, fresh Raccoon scat and a green Buckthorn leaf retaining its chlorophyll. Continuing to walk through the leaf litter, I’m reminded how these leaves decompose, returning essential elements to the soil. This litter creates a critical microhabitat and provides insulation for a wide array of wildlife during the winter months. Also, leaf litter offers shelter and camouflage for small mammals and a variety of ground-foraging birds. Insects and other invertebrates that live within the leaf litter serve as a crucial food source for birds, especially during the winter months. Leaf litter acts as a natural mulch, which helps the soil retain moisture by reducing evaporation and moderating soil temperature extremes. Shuffling through the leaves, I’m reminded how they form a protective cover that absorbs the impact of rain, prevents soil compaction and erosion, allowing rainwater to filter into the ground. Looping around on an earthen trail, I observe a tree trunk with an 18-inch growth called a Burl. Burl wood is highly sought after by furniture makers for its unique beauty (stock photo). Further along, I come upon a decaying log covered with Turkey Tail mushrooms. One of the active ingredients in this fungus is a polysaccharide-PSK, an approved cancer therapy in Japan for conditions like gastric, colon and lung cancers.

Dawn of December

Pulse of nature slows

Decaying leaf litter 

Covered by early snows

Down earthen tunnels

Retreat meadow mice

Over the vacant pond

Brittle layer of ice

Creature sounds are few

No buzzing of bees

Only a Chickadees call

Heard among the trees

 

D. DeGraaf