September 14

Back in early August I began my exploration of Sugar Creek at its source in northern Gratiot County. After five previous encounters, I begin my final hike to reach its confluence with the Pine River, east of Alma. The early morning sky is mostly cloudy with temperatures in the upper 50’s as I make my way east toward the Pine River. Arriving at the river I look in vain for the creek’s outlet. After re-checking my map and compass, I proceed north about a hundred yards and pause to observe an impressive looking, forty-foot-wide mouth of Sugar Creek where surprisingly clear water flows slowly under a large over-hanging willow tree into a slow-moving Pine River. Exploring the bank, I come upon a colony of ground-nesting yellowjackets. They commonly use underground cavities including abandoned animal burrows, enlarging it to hold a paper nest (stock photo) that can contain hundreds of workers along with a single queen. Knowing how aggressive this species is, I keep my distance. When disturbed, they can attack and sting repeatedly. Unlike honeybees, yellowjackets do not leave their stinger behind so they may sting several times when defending their nest. Nearby, I spot a milkweed leaf displaying a pile of monarch caterpillar poop, called frass. Sometimes frass can help locate a hidden caterpillar. However, after looking over the plant, I am unable to find one. Further down the bank, near the water, I spot a couple of blossoms of nodding beggar-ticks. Seen in late summer, the flower heads often droop or “nod” downward which is part of it name. The other part of the name comes from the idea that their barbed seeds (stock photo) are “begging a ride” from any animal or human that brushes past. On another bank, I notice at least four places where fragments of leathery eggshells surround a hole where a turtle had laid and covered her eggs. The likely culprit is a raccoon, an effective nest predator who can detect freshly disturbed soil, the scent of the female turtle, or odors associated with the eggs. After digging into the nest, the critter eats the eggs leaving the shells behind.  Finally, with wet shoes and tired legs, I head back to the car, knowing that my month-long effort has been worthwhile. Exploring Sugar Creek has helped me see it’s not as a series of separate places, but one connected riparian ecosystem that supports a remarkable variety of life despite the pressures and pollution imposed upon it. Following its course has reminded me that even a small and often-overlooked stream has a story worth discovering—and a future worth protecting. 

Outer edge of summer

Nature has her way

Swallows gather above

Wish they could stay

Queen Anne’s Lace

Folds up its flowers

Meadow shines golden

Through daylight hours

Fungi emerge

And berries abound

Frogs of the marsh

Surrender their sound

 

D. DeGraaf