May 5

For my 11^th encounter with the North Branch of the Bad River, I’m 7 miles west of Saginaw County’s village of St Charles, watching its water flow quietly through a greening landscape. The early morning sky is sunny with temperatures in the low 70’s and a stiff west wind as I take in the sights and sounds along the bank. At my feet, I see patches of Ground Ivy with their tiny purple, tubular blossoms. Also known as Creeping Charlie, this perennial plant is native to Eurasia but has become naturalized in North America. Its leaves and stems release a strong, minty odor when crushed. They also have a slightly bitter flavor and can be used in soups, salads, or as a flavoring in dishes. Their blossoms provide nectar for pollinators, particularly bees, during the early spring when few other plants are in bloom. Ground Ivy can be toxic to some livestock, especially horses, if consumed in large quantities. Exploring the river’s edge, I first spot some Raccoon tracks in the mud when suddenly a noisy Belted Kingfisher flies in front of me. This amazing bird (stock photo) nests in burrows along earthen banks and feeds almost entirely on aquatic prey, diving into the river to catch fish and crayfish with its heavy, straight bill. Further along the shore, I barely see a perching Song Sparrow and then pause to hear a Robin while watching flowers on a female Box Elder tree sway in the breeze. Female trees are the only ones to produce clusters of winged seeds later in the year. Back on the flood plain, I spot blossoms of Sweet White and Woodland Violets as well as a young edible Pheasant Back mushroom growing in the crevasse of a tree trunk. Nearby, I come upon one of many fertile stems of Field Horsetail.  This plant is part of one of the most primitive living plant families in the world. Dating back to the Carboniferous Period (354–290 million years ago), the ancestors of horsetail were tree-size and dominated the landscape, ultimately transforming into coal deposits found today. A perennial relative of ferns, it has many common names including scouring rush, meadow-pine and snake-grass. Later in the season the stem will become sterile and look like miniature pine trees (stock photo). After taking one last look at the scenic river as the morning sun reflects off the water, I proceed toward the car, where I observe branches of an Austrian Pine tree displaying 5-inch, stiff needles,  female flowers, new male pollen cones and old female seed cones.

Stage is set

Opening scene 

Curtain rises

Trees hint green

Nature takes her place

Moving through spring

Her violets bloom

Amphibians sing

Back from the south

Right on cue

Swooping the river

Swallows of blue

 

D. DeGraaf

April 28

After a 25-mile, southeasterly drive from my home in Alma, I stand on the Merrill Rd bridge watching the water of the Bad River flow under me. The early morning sky is clear with temperatures in the mid 40’s as I descend to the flood plain and hike on a groomed trail along the riverbank, listening to a chorus of birds. Soon, I come upon a noisy Canada Goose swimming alone on a small pond. It is most likely a male guarding a nearby nest, warning me and other intruders to stay away. While the female is incubating, the male's primary role is to protect her and the nest from predators and other potential threats. Beside a loud honking sound, he may use displays like lowering his head, hissing, and pumping his head up and down. Up ahead on the wet ground, I spot dainty blossoms of Purple Cress, my first ephemeral wildflower of the season. Ephemerals are short-lived plants that bloom briefly in spring before trees leaf out, taking advantage of sunlight before quickly going dormant. Still focusing on the ground, I notice a patch of tiny green leaves of Woodland Stonecrop. It wouldn’t be long before this plant blooms (stock photo). Along the way, I first pass by dead vines connecting some decomposing, walnut-size seed pods of Wild Cucumber and then pause to observe some Multi-flora Rose branches displaying symptoms of Rose Rosette disease including reddish clusters of distorted leaves. Continuing to follow the riverbank, I recognize mottled trunks of Sycamore trees, drooping seed-heads of Foxtail grass and red flowers of a Red Maple tree. Turning around and heading back to the car, I look up and listen as a small flock of Sandhill Cranes fly overhead. Returning from their wintering grounds in Florida and Texas, many of these large wading birds (stock photo) will stop and breed among the vast wetlands here in Michigan. About one-third of the population will continue north to breed in the boreal forests of Canada and Alaska. The estimated summer population of Sandhill Cranes in Michigan is around 23,000. This is a significant increase from the 1940s when only 27 pairs were found in the Lower Peninsula. These birds produce a variety of calls that range from a piercing rattle that can be heard two miles away to low purrs that only carry a few yards. Rattle calls can be sung in unison by several members creating a cacophony of noise. By contrast, the quiet purrs are often heard just before they take-off, while they’re feeding, or as a sign of aggression. Nearing the bridge where my car is parked, I enjoy a Robin solo before heading home.

April nears the finish 

New season grabs hold

From the river’s edge

Blossoms of Marigold

Chipmunks scamper

On the forest floor

Looking for a carcass

Turkey Vultures soar

From a vernal pond

Peeper frogs sing

Nature comes alive

Glad tidings of spring

 

D. DeGraaf

April 21

The late morning temperatures are in the low 50’s, under partly sunny skies as I hike the bank of the Pine River on the north boundary of Alma’s Conservation Park, listening to the songs of a nearby Northern Cardinal and a male Redwing Blackbird (no females yet to be seen). With the sun at my back, I move from a paved to an earthen trail, looking in vain for any green growth of spring.  Up ahead, I observe a couple of Painted Turtles on a log basking in the sun. Their mating season lasts from April to June. The male courts the female in a ritual involving stroking her head with the back of the long claws on his front feet. The female in turn strokes his front legs with her claws. After mating, the female digs a nest in soil a few feet from the edge of the water. Turning left, I follow a trail along the park’s west boundary listening to another Northern Cardinal. Up ahead, I watch a Pileated Woodpecker fly silently overhead and perch in a distant tree. After passing a large Shagbark Hickory tree, I’m relieved to finally see some green as new leaves begin to emerge on a Honeysuckle shrub. Turning left again, I move past one of many vernal ponds along the park’s south boundary where Chorus frogs are calling loud and clear. The sound of this tiny amphibian (stock photo) is not a simple croak, but more of a fine-toothed comb being stroked or a nail scraping across a comb. Up ahead, in the distance, I get a brief glance at a group of Wood ducks, including a very colorful male. After coming upon a standing Whitetail deer camouflaged against a green-less, wooded background, I turn left again to follow the park’s eastern boundary where I pause to observe the midden of a Red Squirrel. Middens are large piles of food scraps, including pinecones around the base of an evergreen tree. Unlike Fox Squirrels that store food underground in the winter, Red Squirrels gather and store food sources in these central locations. Continuing on an earthen trail among many dead and dying evergreen trees, I spot an 8-inch, juvenile Garter Snake, motionless among the leaf litter.  Up ahead, I pass through a grove of mature Red Pine Trees while being greeted by a Blue Jay. Heading back to the car, I’m not surprised to see a few small, male Boxelder trees beginning to flower. Since these trees are dioecious, female Boxelder trees produce a different looking flower (stock photo).

Remembering Earth Day (April 22)

 

Mother Earth, child of the sun

You are a very special one

Water to drink, air to breathe

Life abounds on land and sea

Some worlds are far too cold

Living things cannot take hold

Some worlds are way too hot

Uninhabitable at every spot

Mother Earth, dwelling place

Rightful region in outer space

Sphere of white, sphere of blue

We dedicate this day to you

 

D. DeGraaf

April 14

Temperatures are below freezing under mostly clear skies as I stand on County Line Rd bridge and watch the Bad River flow from the green-less landscape of eastern Gratiot County into western Saginaw County. Exploring the floodplain, I spot several large spore stalks of native Ostrich ferns. Characterized by their tall, lacy fronds and upright, spreading growth habit, I imagine the area will be lush with these plants this summer (stock photo). Approaching the river’s edge, I notice the mottled bark on the trunk of a Sycamore tree next to the trunk of an oak.  Sycamore wood is used for crafting furniture, flooring, and interior trim due to its fine grain and workability. It is also utilized in making butcher blocks, barrels, boxes and crates. This wood is used in the production of pulpwood, particleboard, and fiberboard. Its fine grain makes it suitable for musical instruments like violin backs and even guitar bodies. Looking up, my attention is drawn to a mix of calls of a Northern Cardinal and Bluejay. Blue Jays make a large variety of calls, including the most often heard loud jeer. Occasionally, they mimic hawks, especially Red-shouldered Hawks. After a friendly reminder from a landowner that I’m trespassing, I return to the car, head east into Saginaw County and park alongside of Fenmore Rd., to watch the river flow below a high ridge. Referred to as a moraine ridge, this prominent landform was created by the advance and retreat of glaciers during the Ice Age. Further along the bank, I notice a drain tile coming from pastureland across the road. Often when I come upon these metal tubes, it begs some questions. What is the quality of the water flowing out? Is it tainted with coliform bacteria from animal manure? What is the impact downstream? Are there any restrictions on how many tiles can drain into the river? Descending the steep bank to the river’s edge, I look at and listen to the water as it flows rapidly downstream. Along the floodplain, I explore the muddy ground, where I spot a green shoot of Wild Blue Iris and imagine its blossoms appearing in May (stock photo). Making my way along the river’s edge, I stoop down to observe tiny green leaves of Purple Cress and Early Saxifrage. These ephemeral or quasi-ephemeral plants will grow, bloom (stock photo) (stock photo), and die back quickly, before the surrounding trees fully leaf out, taking advantage of the early spring sunlight. As I take one last look at this watercourse, I think back to how far I’ve come from the start and how far I’ve yet to go to reach the end. 

Mid of April

Into the wild

Life and death

Are reconciled

Flesh and bone

Creature gives

Blood and fur

Predator lives

Off the path

Muddy field

Carcass aside

Sprouts revealed

 

D. DeGraaf

April 7

Freezing temperatures and sunny skies join me as I stand on the Mason Rd. bridge to watch the murky waters of the Bad River flow eastward under me. Recent rain combined with less- than-adequate buffer strips upstream to minimize cropland runoff, cause excess sedimentation resulting in murky water. Descending into the flood plain, I take in the early-morning sights and sounds of this free-flowing river and think back to what I saw upstream earlier this year where this watercourse was confined to a man-made drainage ditch. Crossing the road and continuing to explore the flood plain, I notice the leaf litter is dominated by Swamp White Oak leaves. Nearby, I spot clusters of maple flower buds that fell among maple leaf litter. Pausing by the edge of a puddle, I admire one of several artistic designs created by frozen ice crystals. Looking up, I listen to the dueling songs of a Tufted Titmouse and Eastern Phoebe. Looking down, I see a decaying stump displaying a patch of blue-green Dust Lichen and a decaying log displaying lush moss with needle-like stalks called sporophytes. Each sporophyte is topped with a capsule where spores are produced, released and grow new leafy mats. Working my way west along the river, I look up to the top of a leafless oak tree where large dark growths surround some of the branches. Called Gouty Oak Galls, these woody masses are caused by tiny wasps which first lays eggs in the twigs. The eggs become larvae that secrete chemicals that interfere with normal plant cell growth, resulting in the formation of galls. While causing some branch dieback, they are unlikely to kill the tree. Still looking up, I recognize an old Baltimore Oriole nest hanging among the flowers of a Silver Maple tree. Circling back to the flood plain, I pause to hear a distant Pileated Woodpecker and a nearby, Winter Wren. The wren is brown with dark barring on the wings, tail, and belly (stock photo). This tiny, never-seen, reclusive bird hops and scampers among fallen logs searching for upturned roots and vegetation for insects. After observing the blue sky beyond the wide-open, leafless canopy, I move back across the road to the river’s edge where I come upon a 3-inch diameter, woody Riverbank Grape vine. These vines that can reach a length of 75 feet and a diameter of 8 inches. Moving toward the car, I spot green shoots of Wild Daffodils sprouting from the leaf litter. It wouldn’t be long before this plant displays its yellow trumpet flowers surrounded by yellow petals (stock photo). 

Life in the wild

From the oak above

In the morning mist

A cooing dove

From a flowering  maple

A cardinal sings

On the earth below

A blossom clings

Nature surrounds

She wakes once more

Dressed for spring

Canopy to floor

 

D. DeGraaf

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