August 17

The weather is pleasant and Lake Michigan water is calm as I take an early morning stroll along the eastern shore of Beaver Island. Immediately, the beach surface reveals tracks of a seagull, a fellow human as well as a fresh 12-inch Carp carcass. Up ahead, I notice blossoms of Huron Tansy and one of many fallen trees, evidence of shoreline erosion due to record high lake levels. The latest observed value of 579.82 ft is the highest recorded level in Lake Michigan since July of 1998 (stock photo). Continuing north, I come upon another result of high lake levels-shoreline flooding which has created a temporary pond that is now a flourishing habitat for wildlife, including a Solitary Sandpiper, a toothpick-thin Bluet Damselfly, an Autumn Meadowhawk Dragonfly and even dozens of Mosquitoes. Along the water’s edge, I spot blossoms of Yarrow, Water Horehound as well as a ½-inch American Toad, hopping through flood debris. Nearby, I come upon, blossoms of Harebell and Bladder Campion as well as a Milkweed plant teeming with ½-inch, baby Tussock Moth caterpillars. After glancing toward the lake at the rising sun, I proceed north and pause to take in the scenic coastal landscape. Just ahead, a resting White Admiral butterfly catches my eye as well as a feeding Northern Flicker. Turning around to retrace my path, I spot one of dozens of Monarch Butterflies either perching like this one or fluttering along the beach. Also, I see a young willow tree with fresh Pinecone Galls while in the distance, seagulls gather near shore. At my feet, I’m fascinated as a Blue Mud Wasp struggles to drag a stung spider toward its nest. This amazing insect is able to land on a spider web without getting entangled and pluck it to simulate an insect in distress. When the spider rushes to capture its prey, it becomes the victim of the wasp’s paralyzing sting and is drug to its mud nest. Once at the nest, the wasp stores the paralyzed spider at the bottom of a mud cell (stock photo) and lays a single egg onto its body. When the wasp larva hatches it consumes the remaining body of the spider. Just before reaching my destination, I pause to notice a couple of Monarch caterpillars feeding on Milkweed leaves. Finally, I make it back to our lakefront rental for morning coffee and conversation.

Beach hike in nature’s realm

horizon greets the rising sun.

Beams bounce across the lake

to warm my sandy trail.

Pace to the rhythm of waves 

that lap along the shore.

Up ahead, sandpipers run,

gulls and terns soar above.

Just another quarter mile

barefoot on Beaver Isle

 

D. DeGraaf

August 10

Pausing at the water’s edge, I watch the Pine River flow slowly through the lush summer landscape while listening to crickets and cars crossing over the Crystal Rd. bridge nearby. In the shallows, the posterior of a Green Frog is barely noticed while in the overhead vegetation, reddening Virginia Creeper leaves are a sign of the season to come. The early morning weather is mostly sunny and cool with a refreshing breeze from the west as I explore the surrounding open field, spotting a patch of flowering Bull Thistle as well as some Black-eyed Susan and Bergamot blossoms. Also catching my eye are blossoms of invasive Purple Loosestrife next to seed clusters of Nut Sedge. With no trail to follow, I hike west through tall dewy grass and come upon one of many lovely Cardinal flowers, a striking color contrast to the chlorophyll-rich background. As sunlight begins to illuminate leafy surfaces, I spot a gathering of Hover flies as well as a ¾-inch Robber Fly. This insect, also known as an Assassin Fly, preys on other insects like wasps, bees, dragonflies and other flies, often capturing them in midair. Its sharp proboscis is used to pierce their hard bodies and inject paralyzing venom. Digestive enzymes accompany the venom and turn the insides of their prey to liquid. Then, typical sucking action is used to ingest the liquefied contents. Finding my way over saturated muddy ground, I return to the river’s edge where sunlight also reflects off the glistening water. Glancing skyward, I watch the leaves of a tall Cottonwood tree rustle in the breeze while in the undergrowth, a ¼-inch Leafhopper crawls on a Nettle leaf. Leafhoppers are a large and diverse group of winged, sucking insects that attack many plants including Virginia creeper and Green Ash. Eggs are laid on the back of leaves, develop into small almost clear larvae that suck sap from leaves. Damage is seen mid-summer as mottled white speckling in blotches on a leaf (stock photo). Damage can be extensive and will weaken but seldom kill plants. Turning around, I make my way back toward the car where a few blossoms of Goldenrod are evident, another sign of the season to come. Near the car, I stop to watch a busy Bubble Bee feasting on a blossom of Evening Primrose. Finally, back in the car, I head for home. 

 

Speak to me river flow

What’s your story? I want to know?

Many miles from your water source

What happened on your winding course?

Did some Mallards swim along?

Did your current sing its song?

Did you catch a falling tree?

Did you run fast and free?

What did you pass along the shore?

Perhaps a Heron about to soar

Throughout these summer days

Pine River, I admire your ways

 

D. DeGraaf

August 3

For my first encounter with the Pine River in Montcalm County, Caroline joins me for an early morning hike in the Edmore State Game Area off Douglas Rd. The sky is mostly sunny with temperatures in the mid 60’s as we head into a lavender-tinted meadow, blanketed with Spotted Knapweed. Introduced to North America in the late 1800’s, this highly invasive plant spreads quickly in open areas like this one by producing a toxin that kills competitive native species. Making my way through tall, dewy grass to the riverbank, I pause to watch the current flow gently along while a Goldfinch sings overhead. From here, the river meanders northeast about 6 miles through Montcalm County before crossing into Isabella County. Nearby, large patches of Joe-Pye weed color the river’s edge. As the story goes, there once was an Indian medicine man named Joe Pye who used concoctions from this plant to cure typhoid fever. His brew is said to have halted an epidemic that raged in Colonial Massachusetts. Looking around, I spot a perching Orange Meadow-hawk Dragonfly drying its wings as well as a cattail plant with its brown, hotdog-shaped flower. Actually, this feature consists of thousands of female flowers densely arranged around a large, thick, spike atop the terminal shoot (stock photo). Continuing to explore another dewy meadow, I spot several spider webs including ones made by both orb weavers and cobweb weavers. A milkweed plant reveals a crawling Milkweed Bug while nearby, a Monarch Butterfly dries its wings in morning sunlight. Other blossoms seen include: Hoary Alyssum, Evening Primrose and Queen Anne’s Lace. Following a deer trail back toward the car, I pause again on the bank as the river flows faster and noisier through a narrow channel as a Yellow Throat calls out. Just before reaching the car, I spot a perching Cedar Waxwing. The bird’s name derives from its appetite for cedar berries in winter. In summer, it eats honeysuckle, crabapple, hawthorn, and Autumn olive fruit. As I watch it swoop over the river like a swallow, I recall it’s an omnivore, supplementing a fruit diet with insects including mayflies, dragonflies and stoneflies, often caught on the wing. Back in the car, we head for home.

 

August arrives right on cue

Crescendo of summer is here

Prairie grasses grow up tall

Fawns grow into teenage deer

Forest ceiling covered in green

Concealing sunshine bright

Goldfinch gather thistle seed

Redwings ready a southbound flight

Nature’s music fills the air

Cicadas and crickets strike a tune

Catbirds join the avian chorus

Quieting down in the afternoon

 

D. DeGraaf

July 27

Under partly sunny skies and temperatures in the mid 70’s, my canoeing partner, Dave Shepherd and I put in on the Pine River at the westside of Lumberjack Park and paddle upstream through a corridor of lush vegetation. Around the bend, we spook up a deer that scampers across the shallow river in front of us. We continue upstream, where I spot one of several perching Cedar Waxwings on the bank as well as an abandoned nest of Webworms and a patch of colorful Swamp Milkweed. After paddling about ¼ mile against a gentle current, we are stopped by a fallen tree, turn around and head downstream past mats of floating Eelgrass, back to the park. After dropping off the canoe, I follow the Campground trail southeast along the riverbank where I spot blossoms of Arrow leaf and get a rare glimpse at a beautiful Dog-Day Cicada. This two-inch adult was still drying out after recently molting from its last nymph stage (stock photo). The name, “Dog-Day” refers to the hot and muggy days of late July and August when the nymph, after developing 2-5 years underground, climbs out and molts into an adult that produces a familiar long, high-pitched whining drone. According to weather folklore, when you hear the first song of the dog-day cicadas, it means there's just six weeks until the first frost. Further ahead, I come upon blossoms of Allegany Monkey Flower while I pause to look and listen as the river flows past a cluster of smooth rocks. One rock, I notice near shore was used recently as a steppingstone by raccoons. Other evidence of these creature’s presence includes mussel shells and scat. As the sun peaks through the clouds, I continue into a mature woodland where I spot a Chipping Sparrow perched high in the dense Maple canopy. Proceeding through the campground area, the sun highlights the ground in front of me. Veering off the trail down to the river’s edge, I’m entertained by a loud crow while watching Jewel wings flutter about and Whirly gigs swim against the current. Also, patches of Fringed Loosestrife catch my eye. Back in the car, I reflect on my river journey so far, from my first encounter in Midland County back in April to today, my final stop in Gratiot County before venturing upstream into Montcalm County. 

Water of life, water of life

Rain and snow bless the earth

Flowing o’er furrowed fields.

Water of life, water of death

Gathering minerals to help

Chemicals and coliforms to harm.

Water of life, water of death

Converging creeks and drains

contaminate the channel.

River of life, river of death

Toxins that poison food chains 

and fish be damned!

 

D. DeGraaf

July 20

It’s early morning when Caroline and I begin a hike in the Stearns Preserve. Located in the village of Riverdale, these 14 acres of floodplain on the Pine River are property of the Chippewa Watershed Conservancy. With partly cloudy skies and temperatures in the lower 70’s, we follow a groomed path east through a 1-acre meadow where I spot blossoms of Blue Vervain as well as an Orange Meadowhawk dragonfly perched on a Cranesbill plant. At the water’s edge, I pause to watch the Pine River flow gently by, as blossoming Purple Loosestrife appear along the shore. Looking around, I notice a 1½ inch Wood Frog in the mud and nearby, the exoskeleton of a dragonfly, shed by the insect after its final molt. Finding our way onto the Meijer Bike Trail that runs through the middle of the preserve, we head east past a dense stand of Horsetail and then stop to pick a blossom of Bergamot to smell its lovely fragrance. Pausing on the bridge, I observe the river flowing south through a riparian landscape while yellow blossoms of Fringed Loosestrife also catch my eye. Leaving the bike trail, I descend a steep slope and work my way south along the river’s edge where I come upon a resting ½ inch Leaf Miner fly. Seeing a nearby Basswood tree with many blotched and pitted leaves, I am not surprised to find a ¼ inch adult Leaf Miner crawling on one of them. Earlier in the year, adult female Leaf Miners insert single eggs beneath the upper epidermis of a Basswood leaf. The resulting grub-like larvae feed as leaf miners between the upper and lower epidermis (stock photo).  The blotch-like leaf mines contain a single larva at first but may eventually house several larvae. Pupation occurs within the leaf mines and new adults emerge in summer. Down in the mud, evidence of recent Raccoon activity is noted. Returning to the paved bike trail, we proceed east through a shaded tunnel of leaning Box Elder trees where I notice the distinctive blossom of a Michigan Lily and the dainty bellflowers of Dogbane. Just before turning around, I follow the flight of one of several Northern Pearly-eye butterflies as it lands on a leaf. Heading west, I see a few invasive Autumn Olive shrubs as well as invasive Spotted Knapweed. Back on the bridge, I gaze upstream as the river passes through a corridor of lush vegetation. Finally, we reach the car and head for home.

 

Calls of the wild

Please my ear

Strum of a frog

Chirp of a Killdeer

Snort of a Whitetail

Buzzing of bees

Drum of a woodpecker

Wind through the trees

In tune with nature

On a trail I stroll

Summer chorus

Music for the soul

 

D. DeGraaf

July 13

This morning, I’m near the small village of Elm Hall as I begin my fourteenth encounter with the Pine River. Since March, I’ve followed the main branch of the river upstream about 30 miles from its mouth in my quest to travel its entire length, some 20 miles yet to go. With sunny, hot and humid weather, I make my way from the car to the river’s edge while passing blossoms of Crown Vetch, Bouncing Bet and St. John’s Wort. After descending the steep roadbed, I pause on the bank to take in the riparian sights and sounds. Looking around, I spot a Song Sparrow perched in a Maple tree above me and a patch of Common Arrowhead near shore. The common names of Duck potato and Wapato for Arrowhead are in reference to the enlarged rounded starchy golf ball-sized tubers that form at the ends of underground plant runners (stock photo). These tubers are edible when roasted or boiled. They were important food sources of indigenous peoples and in some areas are still valued as such. Unable to find a suitable path to follow, I cross a bridge in search of another access point where I notice blossoms of Queen Anne’s Lace, Chicory and Common Mullein. In the meantime, I stop to listen to the mimicking songs of a Gray Catbird, perched high in a dead Ash tree. Proceeding south through dense undergrowth, I come upon a small Single-dotted Wave Moth and a Goldenrod plant displaying a fresh nut gall. This growth, that contains the larvae of a Goldenrod gall fly, is a common sight this time of year.  Just ahead, I find the river again as it has widened into a large wetland. Turning around, I begin retracing my steps as I pass by ripening fruit of wild Raspberries and Honeysuckle while a refreshing breeze sways the Cottonwood leaves overhead. Nearing the car, I stumble upon a colony of Formica ants scurrying about their shallow mound. Finally, I’m back to the car, turn on the AC and head for home.

 

Beauty of summer

settles over the river 

where a cardinal flower

flaunts its scarlet pedals, 

a wood duck drake parades

its coat of many colors.

In the murky depths

beauty awaits its cue.

An unsightly creature

heeds its inner call to

ascend and transform. 

Behold! Dragonfly, 

adorned with translucent

wings and body of 

iridescent green.

 

D. DeGraaf

July 6

This morning, I park the car along Sand Rd. next to the Pine River as it flows downstream toward Alma, seven miles to the northeast. The weather is sunny and warm as I climb down the 10 ft roadbed onto the wooded floodplain where swarms of mosquitoes make their presence known. Making my way to the river’s edge, I pass by some Skunk Cabbage and Wild Ginger. Pausing on the muddy bank, I notice the mirrored water flows slow and quiet through a lush landscape while a short distance downstream, rippling water flows fast and noisy past a dam of downed trees. Looking around, I first spot a perching Eastern Phoebe and then hear the call of a Tufted Titmouse high in the trees above the far shore. Hiking downstream along the bank, I pass by a large Beech tree before coming upon a floating mat of Clasping Leaf pondweed. Like my river hike last week, several Ebony Jewel-wing damselflies flutter and perch, including this one displaying its striking iridescence. Further exploration of the muddy flood plain reveals a patch of Morning Star Sedge and Poison Ivy leaves covered with bumps produced by a leaf gall mite. In the leafy undergrowth, several small whitish moths, called Three-spotted Fillips, flutter and perch, including this one resting on a Poison ivy leaf. In addition, a single, 1-inch moth, called a False Crocus Geometer is spotted nearby. The name “Geometer”, meaning earth-measurer, refers to the locomotion of the caterpillars which lack most of the prolegs of other Lepidopteran caterpillars. Equipped with appendages at both ends of the body, a caterpillar will clasp with its front legs and draw up the hind end, then clasp with the hind end and reach out for a new front attachment, creating a loop, and creating the impression that it is measuring its journey. The caterpillars are accordingly called inchworms (stock photo). Working my way through a patch of ferns, I can barely make out a perching damselfly. While approaching for a closer look, I realize why it doesn’t fly away. Much to my amazement, this fragile insect is completing its last stage of molting as it goes through a metamorphosis from an aquatic nymph to aerial adult.  After its skin splits down the back, it emerges and inflates its wings and abdomen to gain its adult form. Making my way back, I find Caroline enjoying peace and quiet from the comfort of the car as I brief her on my 13^th Pine River encounter. 

 

An hour of traffic flow and

minutes of forest retreat, past.

Facing the gentle river flow that 

slows my racing mind and 

quiets the daily din.

Connecting to creatures that

thrive in this steady stream.

The Belted Kingfisher that gracefully

dives for its fingerling food.

The motherly Muskrat that 

gathers greens for her hungry kits.

Memories of nature to cherish

Thoughts of nature to soothe

 

D. DeGraaf