January 28

After an hour drive, having “Google Gal” guide us through rush hour traffic, Caroline and I arrive safely at Laguna Lake, a 7-acre, freshwater habitat in the heart of Fullerton, California. Beautiful, sunny weather greets us as we begin our ¾ mile hike around the perimeter of this man-made basin. Besides us, we share the groomed, earthen trail with other hikers, dog walkers, joggers and baby strollers. Near shore, we observe a male Ring-necked Duck diving for food that includes tiny invertebrates and pondweed. These ducks will overwinter here and then migrate north to their summer breeding grounds in Canada. Speaking of ducks, I’m pleased to see a sign posted discouraging humans from feeding these waterfowl. Something my hometown of Alma needs in their park on the Pine River. Along the way, I admire the color and texture of a mature Eucalyptus tree trunk that sheds its bark annually. Also, just off the trail, the lovely blossoms of a Bougainvillea vine and Wood Sorrel plant catch my eye. Turning again toward the water, I pause to watch an adult Coot swimming near shore followed by a juvenile. Far away on the eastern horizon, I catch a glimpse of snow-covered Mt. Baldy, 30 miles away and 4000 ft. high. Continuing to circle the lake, it was easy to spot domestic ducks (Peking) mingling with the wild ones. Not surprisingly, I also spot some hybrids, called “Mule Ducks” that are sterile offspring of domestic ducks that mated with Mallards. Gazing skyward, I see Eucalyptus leaves being swayed by a refreshing breeze. Still looking up, I notice the leaves and pods of a Jacaranda (Fern) tree that displays lovely lavender flowers in the spring and summer. Nearby, I observe the pink blossoms of Wood Mint. Back to the water, my eyes catch a solitary Cormorant perching on a submerged rock. Walking back to the car, I’m impressed about this place where living space and freshwater are in great demand, and yet a small portion of both have been set aside for the co-existence of wildlife and humans.

Late January

Snowless scene

Flowers bloom

Hills of green

An iceless lake

Cloudless sky

Lizards run

Ospreys fly

Mother Nature

Here with me

Far from home

Beside the sea

D. DeGraaf

January 21

In the sprawling megalopolis of Los Angeles, the definition of a nature trail is quite different than in rural Mid-Michigan. The one, Caroline, our daughter, Allison and I hike on meanders through a 50-yard wide strip of green space bordered by dense housing on one side and a concrete channel of the San Gabriel River on the other. My first impression left me wondering if wildlife could thrive or even survive in such a place. So, on this warm and sunny afternoon while Caroline and Allison move ahead, I dodge a few other walkers, leached dogs and baby strollers, to experience what nature has to offer. Soon, I come upon one of many Common Sage bushes that provide a pleasing aroma as well as nectar for the honeybees. Against an azure blue sky, giant transmission towers and numerous power lines come into view. Five years ago, government officials began restoring this easement property into habitat for native flora and fauna. Against the same blue sky, I marvel at a Great Egret perching among the male and female catkins of a White Alder tree. Surrounded by the commotion of this urban area, I enjoy a Northern Mocking Bird singing and a Monarch feeding on a colorful mint blossom. Surrounded by pavement and steel, I enjoy the pink blossoms of Wild Rose and the multi-colored blossom of a Passion Flower. Just ahead, bursting from green buds are the lovely flowers of Lion’s Tail that when dried, along with the leaves, can be smoked to calm the nerves. After completing a half-mile, I turn around and begin to retrace my steps where I can barely see a female Lesser Goldfinch against the branches and leaves of an oak tree. At the conclusion of the hike, I decide that despite a lack of peace and quiet, I am glad there is a natural oasis where wildlife and humans can co exist.

A peaceful meadow

A motor ran

Sounds of nature

Sounds of man

Sage on the trail

Trash in the can

Smells of nature

Smells of man

A flowery field

A beat up van

Sights of nature

Sights of man

D. DeGraaf

January 14

After surviving 45 minutes of rush hour traffic, Caroline & I are relieved to find peace and quiet as well as wildlife at El Dorado Nature Center in nearby Long Beach. Under cool and clear skies, we begin our hike by crossing over a footbridge where a lovely White Pelican greets us from its watery perch. Following an earthen trail and passing a Toyon bush with its colorful red fruit, we pause to watch a wading Snowy Egret stirring up prey with its feet. While admiring this clever behavior, I wonder if it’s learned or instinctive? As Caroline leads the way through a dense corridor of trees, we notice the trail is busy with lots of seniors on their morning walk. Around the bend, we spot the fragile web of an orb weaver, sparkling with morning dewdrops as well as purple berry clusters on a California Privet bush. These berries are toxic for humans but edible for birds, which are responsible for dispersal of seed. Along the creek and over the bridge we go to see a few colorful leaves still clinging to a Sycamore tree while most of them have dropped to make up the dense leaf litter. Looking skyward, we catch a glimpse of a perching Kestrel and an immature Red-shouldered Hawk. Continuing our one-mile loop, we come upon a Chinese Flame tree withits display of seed capsules–clusters of two-inch long papery husks resembling little Chinese lanterns. Just ahead, we stop to count three soft, eight-inch needles per cluster on a branch of Ponderosa Pine. Nearing the trailhead, we pause to watch a Great Egret wading gracefully in a narrow creek while a pair of Mallards and a colorful male Hooded Merganser swim nearby. Perched high at a distance, we could barely make out a tiny Allen’s Hummingbird. With our tranquil hike complete and minds at ease, we find the car and gear up to join throngs of vehicles heading north toward our place in Redondo Beach.

Honking horns

Sirens sound

Smoggy air

Humans abound

Asphalt of black

Urban scene

Where’s the fauna

Flora of green

Plumage of emerald

Eucalyptus here

Hummingbird hovers

Nature is near

D. DeGraaf

January 7

So, here I am hiking on an earthen nature trail while listening to loud noises of passing cars, sirens and low-flying planes. It’s late morning when I make my way around Madrona Marsh Preserve, a wildlife habitat in the heart of Torrance California, a city of 150, 000 south of Los Angeles. The air is cool and calm under a gray sky as I glance through a tall, wrought iron fence at the concrete jungle that surrounds this land. What a contrast to my weekly wanderings in the hushed landscapes of rural Mid Michigan. At the start, I notice that neither the California Towhee foraging for bugs nor the bee pollinating a Bladderpod blossom seem to be bothered by the traffic noise. Serenaded by a siren, I follow the perimeter trail past an open meadow where Canada Geese are grazing and a Black Phoebe is perching. Nearby, I pause in amazement to observe the colorful plumage of a perching Allen’s Hummingbird. Also, far in the distance and far up a leafless tree, I spot the silhouettes of a flock of Cedar Waxwings. Soon I come to the edge of one of many ponds where I see some Northern Shovelers, a Coot and a Mallard drake. Continuing on the perimeter path, I catch sight of a tiny Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher, camouflaged against the underbrush. Near the end of the mile long circular trail, I pause to listen to the familiar sounds of Redwing Blackbirds hiding in the tall reeds. After finishing the hike, I make my way back to the car, pleased to have been to a place where humans and wildlife can not only co-exist but also thrive. Urban property like this is important as a sanctuary for wildlife as well as a place where city dwellers can commune with nature.

Old year sets

New year rises

California hike

Welcome surprises

No dormant fields

Or ponds that freeze

Flourishing wetlands

Trees with leaves

East or west

No matter where

Nature’s wonders

Are waiting there

D. DeGraaf

December 31

On a clear, cold Christmas morning, I hiked west from Pingree Rd. on the paved Meijer Heartland Trail through a corridor of leafless trees. The dark asphalt surface provided an ideal backdrop for Mother Nature to display her images and tell her seasonal story. Patches of fallen leaves, along with a dusting of snow on this slate-colored aisle through the woods, spoke of the onset of winter. Nature’s portraits included leaves in various stages of decay, void of chlorophyll, painted on a smooth, black canvas, including Bur Oak, Red Oak and Elm, each showing their distinctive margins and venation. Further ahead on the surface of tar, the artist had created a collage of dry and brittle maple leaves sprinkled with snow. More tales from the tar included tracks of opossum and squirrel on a white overlay. While continuing to walk west, I glanced far ahead to see a sudden flash of a white tail from a whitetail crossing this man-made strip of bituminous pitch and gravel. Other images included posing leaves of Aspen and Cottonwood as well as needles of Scotch pine. From this blacktop surface here on planet earth, I glanced skyward through bare branches to observe the moon, 240,000 miles away and remember the amazing photo of our planet taken 50 years ago today from the Apollo 8 spacecraft as it orbited the moon. At Bliss Rd., I turned around and headed east as the rising sun began to shed its light on the straight path before me where trains once traveled. Continuing to walk the trail of tar, I watched in awe as sunbeams began to shimmer through the leafless brush as the Christmas morning star colored the southeastern horizon and highlighted a tangle of branches. Finally, I returned to the warmth of the car for my travel back home to celebrate the holiday with family and friends.

No colored lights

On pines of green

No shiny tinsel

On spruce are seen

No carol music

Disturbs the peace

Only the wind

Call of the geese

No angels on high

No child is born

Nature awakes

On Christmas morn

D. DeGraaf

December 24

Last Friday, I drove 10 miles west of Alma to revisit the new nature trail in the 50-acre Lumberjack Park, north of Riverdale. The early morning weather was cloudy with a temperature of 36 degrees and a slight breeze out of the north. Leaving the car parked by the south trailhead off Madison Rd, I followed the Sugar Maple Trail north through a corridor of leafless hardwoods while listening to the call of a White-breasted Nuthatch. Continuing north, I descended the stairs and walked on the boardwalk over mud flats that showed some ice cover. Turning east, I hiked a short distance before turning north and beginning to cross the bridge over Mud Creek. Despite overcast skies, I paused halfway, faced eastward and acknowledge the morning sun as it reached its lowest solstice to usher in the winter season. Continuing over the bridge, I proceeded north, turned west down a slope and picked up the White Pine Trail as it headed to the northwest up another slope where I spotted some turkey scat on the leaf liter. Noting the shape, it mostly likely originated from a gobbler rather than a hen. Also, the dark portion is the fecal material while the white portion is crystalized urine. Reaching the north trailhead, I turned around and retraced my steps a short distance before veering right to follow the Riverview Trail. Proceeding southeast, I paused on a high bank to observe the Pine River flowing gently by. Continuing on the trail, I marveled at the numerous patches of green Foliose Lichens on the tree trunks. As the trail turned northward, I spotted a soccer-ball size Bald-faced hornets’ nest suspended from a branch high in the canopy. Continuing through a stand of mature pine trees, I came upon a decomposing log covered with fresh and edible Oyster Mushrooms. Back up the slope, I turned south and once again came to Mud Creek where I observed a small flock of noisy Chickadees fluttering through brush near the bank. After hiking back across the bridge, I spotted a lovely red cardinal nestled in the tangled underbrush. Back over the boardwalk, I followed the Sugar Maple Trail as it looped east, then south and then west back to the car to complete the hike before heading home.

You had barely left

When redwings arrived

My memory faded

When cattails thrived

Forgot about you

When summer came

Autumn commenced

It was still the same

You finally showed

O heavenly sphere

Winter sun

Glad you’re here

D. DeGraaf

December 17

Last Thursday, I stayed close to home and hike on some private land just east of Alma. The early morning weather was sunny with a temperature of 17 degrees and no wind. Leaving the car, I headed north along a 2-track, accompanied by a small flock of Juncos that darted through the leafless underbrush where I couldn’t help but notice the huge wind turbines off in the distance. While looking more closely at the underbrush, I spotted the colorful seeds and husks of American Bittersweet. Since, there was a thin layer of snow on the ground, it was easy to spot some fresh coyote tracks. Following the trail as curved to the west and then south, I entered a forest of mature hardwoods and conifers where the leaf litter showed evidence of oak, maple and pine. Continuing on the trail as it ascended a steep slope and meandered westward across a high narrow ridge with wooded wetlands below, I marveled at what appeared to be glacial type terrain, a rare sight indeed in the predominately flat landscape of Gratiot County. Suddenly, a large raptor flew over the trail ahead and landed high in a nearby tree where I could see it was a majestic Barred Owl. Continuing west, I noticed a few green but frozen leaves on an Autumn Olive shrub beside me and a few fresh opossum tracks on the snowy path at my feet. Next, I paused to watch a family of wild turkeys cross the trail in front of me. Descending the ridge, I wandered over to the edge of one of several large wooded wetlands to scan the landscape. Near shore, I spotted a few fresh rabbit tracks on the snow-covered ice. Turning around, I began retracing my steps to the east when I came upon an unusual site- a healthy looking maple tree whose leaves had turned brown and had not fallen off. While this phenomena is common in oak and beech trees, it is rarely seen in maple trees. Continuing eastward, I exited the forest and came to a gravel pit surrounded by large pine trees where I spotted a set of deer tracks crossing the ice covered surface. Finally, I returned to the car and headed home.

Outer edge of fall

Thin layer of snow

Creatures hunker down

Grasses cease to grow

Farewell sun of autumn

Winds from the north

Sweep the icy pond

Reeds sway back and forth

Gone, flowers of May

Gone, birds of June

Nature takes a break

Winter is coming soon

D. DeGraaf