December 30

I’m hiking next to the Pine River millpond in Alma’s Conservation Park early on a foggy, snowless Christmas morning. A short distance ahead, I am pleased to come face to face with a well- camouflaged Eastern Screech Owl. These small nocturnal birds-of-prey are often heard but rarely seen. Their diet includes small birds and mammals, reptiles, insects, crayfish, and earthworms. Like other owls, they regurgitate pellets that contain indigestible fur and bones; finding these pellets (stock photo) beneath a tree may be one clue to an owl's presence. While typically found in wooded parks like this, they tend to avoid dense forests frequently inhabited by much larger Great Horned Owls (stock photo), which readily prey upon them. Continuing west along the steep bank, I pause at one of the overlooks to observe a large gaggle of geese congregating on the semi frozen millpond. Turning south, I pass a small frozen marsh and the Girl Scout cabin before stopping to notice some Xmas-colored British Soldier lichens. Nearby, I spot large patches of dead Bergamot stalks, pick one of the dried seed heads and crush it to inhale the fragrance. Near the south end of the park, I follow the path eastward as the rising sun shines through the stark landscape. Continuing east across a swath of tall prairie grass, I enter a section of the park dominated by aging conifers where I look up to see a few berries on a vine of American Bittersweet. On the ground nearby, I spot a few Oyster fungi occupying a fallen log. Continuing on the meandering path that is also used by mountain bikers, I stop to watch a family of deer retreating into the far woods. Looping back to the west, I pass some leaf litter containing rarely seen Chinkapin Oak leaves and pause at the Eyer Bird Hut. While not seeing any birds at the feeders, I do spot a perching Red Squirrel waiting for me to leave so it can feast on seeds and grains. Making my way back to the car, I see some leafless vegetation with lingering fruit of Buckthorn and Viburnum. Back in the car, I reflect on another year of wonderful nature hikes and look forward to 2020 as I discover new adventures in the wild.

Christmas sanctuary

No windows or walls

No carol music playing

Only a Chickadee calls

Christmas sanctuary

Choir of gathering geese

Gratitude for solitude

Planet Earth at peace

Christmas sanctuary

No ringing silver bells

Early morning hike

Mother Nature dwells

D. DeGraaf

December 23

The early morning sky is overcast, air is still and the temperature is in the mid 20’s as I make my way along the edge of Hamilton Township Cemetery, 8 miles east of the village of Ithaca in Gratiot County. This location is one of only a few public access places in the county to the Upper Bad River. This minor watercourse begins its meandering journey east from Newark Township south of Ithaca. From the cemetery it flows northeasterly into Saginaw County, through the village of St. Charles where it joins the south branch and empties into the Shiawassee River, south of Saginaw. From a high bank, I move down into the flats where I notice several ice and snow covered puddles, some with raccoon and squirrel tracks. Pausing at the river’s edge, I can see that, while most of the water is ice covered, some is exposed and flowing. Continuing east through the flats, I come across a clam shell and some Raccoon scat in various stages of decomposition. Since these creatures are likely to frequent the same place to urinate and defecate, it is referred to as a Raccoon latrine. After turning around and shuffling through a thick layer of leaf litter, my attention turns to some deer scat and decaying Sycamore leaves. Focusing on the surrounding tree trunks, I spot Shagbark hickory, Hop hornbeam and a Wild Cherry complete with a pair of dark eyes looking at me. Next, I see a snag with many Pileated woodpecker holes as well as a family of Beech trees, including parents and offspring. After climbing back up the bank, I scan south over acres of agricultural land and think about how for years this river had been heavily polluted by sedimentation from uncontrolled erosion off fields like this. High bed loads and turbidity in this water created an overheated and nearly lifeless river environment. Recently, farmers in the watershed are receiving state grant money to mitigate the problem by growing cover crops, filter strips, grassed waterways and reducing tillage practices. Approaching the car, I’m pleased to see the rising sun breaking through the clouds. Since tomorrow is the beginning of astronomical winter in the northern hemisphere, I realize its elevation above the horizon is the least it will be the entire year (slightly higher than 20 degrees at noon)

Glowing orb

Cooler rays

Winter sun 

Star of days

Descent ends

Solstice phase

Winter sun

Star of days

Light of life

You I praise

Winter sun

Star of days

D. DeGraaf

December 16

In the early light of Sunday morning, I’m hiking along the east bank of the Pine River as it flows through Centennial Park in the village of Sumner. Overcast skies, temperature in the mid 30’s and a noticeable west wind surround me as I pause on the river’s edge to observe the over flowing water while comparing it to a scene from the spring of 2015 when I stood here. Heading north on a leaf-covered trail, I spot some dried Chinese lantern pods and watch wispy seeds of Clematis sway in the breeze. Nearby, while seeing no evidence of humans using a trailside bench, I see a squirrel found its way there. Next, my attention is captured by the sight and sound of babbling water. Up ahead on the ground, I notice the polka dot snow cover as well as the geometric shaped ice. Near the river’s edge, I look up to see floral buds on leafless branches of a Red Maple and look down to see a few red hips on a rose bush. Continuing north on the trail, I pause to scan the flooded mud flats while comparing this landscape to that which I observed in the spring of 2015. Following the trail as it looped back to the south, I thought of how it appeared again back in the spring of 2015. After passing a scraggly Red Cedar tree, the only conifer in the entire woods, I discover a few green plants on the ground including sedge and wild strawberry. The leaf litter shows evidence of hickory, maple and aspen. Making my way back to the car, I take one last look at this important natural resource and think about how we humans are contaminating its water. The main culprit seems to be animal waste from several factory farms that now occupy the county. Manure by the tons containing toxic E Coli bacteria is spread onto cropland that then drains into ditches and streams that feed the river. Another source of E. Coli are houses along the river with dysfunctional septic tanks and drain fields that seep into the watershed. Thank goodness, Alma College representatives as well as community activists along with state government officials are working hard to mitigate the pollution and restore the river.

Sunday silence

I hear your song

River called Pine

Take me along

Your sanctuary

Without a pew

Fields and forests

Carry me through

Bathe the boulders

Cleanse my mind

Nature’s blessings

I seek, I find

D. DeGraaf

December 9

Caroline and I are hiking in a snow-covered landscape of the 72-acre Averill Nature Preserve along the north bank of the Titabawassee River, just west of Midland. With snow falling and a temperature near freezing, we make our way west along a paved trail amid ice and snow covered vegetation. These unique conditions offer me a rare glimpse of a Crabapple tree, American Bittersweet berries and dried up Viburnum fruit. The snowy path reveals only “humans hiking” and “human walking dog” tracks. Making our way around ice-laden trees and shrubs, we come to a clearing where I spot several dead Mullein stalks as well as a never-before seen “insect hotel”. This structure is meant to mimic the forest floor and create habitat for cavity dwelling insects. Bamboo shoots and punctured wood house solitary bees. Hay, sticks and pinecones support lacewings, hover flies and ladybugs. Further ahead, we come upon a small duckweed-covered pond that spills into a narrow creek. Following the creek a short distance, we get our first look at the Titabawassee River. From its source at Secord Lake, northeast of the village of Gladwin, the river flows for 73 miles southeasterly through Gladwin, Midland and Saginaw counties before emptying into the Saginaw River in the city of Saginaw. Once called the Tiffin River, it was later change to the Indian name, “Ta-tu-ba-war-say”, which means: the river running around the shore--as it does around the Saginaw bay and Lake Huron. Turning around to retrace our steps, the snowy conditions give me a different look at Cattail seed heads and Sumac drupes. Nearing the end or our hike, we pause on a high bank, take a final look at the river and imagine what it was like here back in the 1860’s when it was a busy lumber settlement with 7 hotels, a saloon called “Red Keg” and the site of the world’s largest timber banking grounds. Massive White Pine trees were harvested in the winter and brought here by train. In the spring, when the water was high, the huge logs (stock photo) were rolled down the bank and floated down stream to the sawmills in Saginaw.

Off in the distance

A leafless perch

Stately bird of prey

Continues to search

Scanning the field

Carpeted in white

A rodent scampers

In the raptor’s sight

Swoops, kills quick

Mother Nature’s way

Hawk of the meadow

Survives another day

D. DeGraaf

December 2

From the new Madison Rd. trailhead, I begin my early morning hike on the Campground Trail at Lumberjack Park. A chilly north wind, overcast skies and a temperature of 34 degrees surround me as I make my way north along the bank of the Pine River where the wooded landscape is blanketed with a thick layer of leaf litter. Immediately, my attention is drawn to evidence of recent Beaver activity including gnawed stumps and downed trees. The only part of the tree they eat for nutrition is the inner layer of the bark, called the cambium layer. Beavers are the lumberjacks of the rodent world. They use their tree-chopping skills (stock photo)to gather wood for constructing lodges and dams, and in the process, eat or gather some for food or storage (stock photo). They prefer softwoods including aspen, cottonwood, willow and dogwood, but will also gnaw on hardwoods to sharpen their continuously growing teeth. A beaver is specially equipped to rapidly chop down trees and branches. His dark orange incisors (stock photo) are softer and wear down more quickly on the back than the front, resulting in beveled teeth that are ideal for slicing through wood and stripping away bark. Continuing on the Campground Trail, I notice a scattering of Christmas Ferns poking through the leaf litter as well as a recently toppled tree due to Pileated Woodpecker activity. Next, I pause at the edge of the swollen river to take in the riparian sights and sounds. Continuing west, I reach Lumberjack Rd., cross the bridge and turn east onto the Riverview Trail where I stop to notice leaves of a Beech tree swaying with the wind. Continuing along the high riverbank, I pause again to observe the water flowing west to east. Just ahead, I’m surprised to see more beaver activity. Turning northeast through a corridor of tall pines I spot a buck rub and a decayed log covered with fresh Oyster fungi. Moving along, I join up with the Mud Creek Trail, veer to the southeast and come to the bridge over Mud Creek. Crossing the bridge, I make my way along the creek, cross the boardwalk and finally circle the Sugar Maple Trail back to the car just in time to see a few patches of blue sky through the open canopy.

Season to hunt

Season to kill

Seeking quarry

Seeking a thrill

Lethal weapon

Bullets release

Finding their mark

Ending the peace

Preserving life

Is not the plan

Trophy buck

Pleasure of man

D. DeGraaf

November 25

The mid morning sky is mostly cloudy and cold with a temperature in the mid 30’s as I make my way around the 5-acre Hiawatha Hills Preserve, west of Mt. Pleasant. Hiking into a leafless wooded landscape, nestled in a residential area on the south bank of the Chippewa River, I’m surrounded by mature maples, oaks and beech mixed in with some patches of snow and ice. A closer view of some of the snow reveals tracks of squirrel and deer. Approaching the river, I spot a Muscle-wood tree still holding its dead leaves along with a cedar snag with an interesting vertical pattern of holes made by Pileated Woodpeckers. At the river’s edge, I pause to watch the water gently flowing through a scenic autumn corridor. Moving along the bank, some bright red fruit catches my eye including a cluster of Jack-in-the-Pulpit berries and a few Barberry berries. Just ahead on the muddy ground, I find some deer scat as well as some Sycamore and Basswood leaves. Nearby, I see a few examples of vegetation still showing chlorophyll including: Woodland Sedges, Periwinkle as well a scattering of Mulberry leaves. Unlike most deciduous tree leaves, these leaves, while still green, often drop in unison, triggered by the first hard frost. Fortunately, recent snowmelt is providing me with some intriguing observations of tiny life forms. First, I spot an array of decomposers living in the crevasses of a decaying log including: moss, lichens and rarely seen but colorful fungi called Purple Jelly Drops. Next, I come across some BB-size decomposers living on a decaying log- the fruiting bodies of Wolf’s Milk slime mold (Toothpaste Slime). Immature forms are pink and excrete a pink toothpaste-like substance when squeezed. When not fruiting, this mold consists of microscopic, amoeba-like organisms engulfing bacteria, spores, protozoa and non-living organic matter. Thirdly, my attention is drawn to some half-inch, delicate Mottlegill Mushrooms. Commonly called the mower's mushroom, this fungus is widely distributed and often found on lawns. Working my way back to the car, I pause to take one last look at the property at the same time being grateful it’s been set-aside as a protected nature area where humans and wildlife can coexist.

Not too far from the hunter’s gun

Run, river run

By light of the moon, light of the sun

Run, river run

Your journey’s not over, only half done

Run, river run

Ice floes have not yet begun

Run, river run

Protecting your water is priority one

Run, Chippewa, run

D. DeGraaf

November 18

Even though there is 5 weeks left before winter begins, already the air is frigid and the ground covered with 5 inches of snow as I begin hiking south into the 200-acre, Alma College Ecological Station, east of Vestaburg. The landscape looks quite different from when I hiked here in the summer of 2015. Turning east, I take in both the scene and solitude of the forest where towering Red Oak trees have surrendered some of their leaves to the path below while others continue to fill the canopy above. Along the way, a rare sighting of Chlorophyll is noted in the leaves of a thorny Greenbrier vine. Further ahead, fresh evidence of a Pileated Woodpecker shredding tree bark in search of insects catches my eye. Turning south, I descend a moderate slope onto a boardwalk, the same one I was on back in 2015. This walkway accesses a unique wetland called a peat bog. The soft, spongy ground under my feet is composed largely of Sphagnum moss. When decayed and compacted this plant is known as peat and is often used for fuel or a soil additive. At the end of the boardwalk, I pause to scan a 20-acre lake from the same vantage point I used back in 2015. This open water feature is also part of the bog ecosystem as it continues to shrink as the moss mat grows out over the edges. Gazing off to the west, I observe a stand of yellow Tamarack trees often seen in peat bogs. Unlike most conifers, the needles of these trees change from green to yellow and soon will fall to earth. On the nearby shore, I see a red colored fruit often associated with bogs, cranberries. This wild fruit has been growing in Great Lakes bogs for thousands of years. During much of that time, Indigenous peoples harvested them for food and medicine. Also, their antioxidant and vitamin C content were helpful in the winter months. Wild cranberries were one of the foods offered to early American colonists by the Wampanoag Tribe, making it part of the Thanksgiving holiday menu as we know it today. Turning around, I begin to retrace my steps while stopping to look and listen to a small creek draining from the bog. Finally, I get back to the car and skid my way back home.

November winds rise

Air temperatures fall

Leafless shrubs short

Naked Aspens tall

Lacey flowers close

Canopy opens wide

Chickadees are seen

Frogs and toads hide

Maple leaves descend

Oak’s cling and hang

Earth ever in balance

Nature’s Yin and Yang

D. DeGraaf